Romans 8:18-27 – Moans and Groans

The world is in a mess. I think everyone would agree with that. But this is nothing new; it’s always been in a mess. Some of us may look back to the past and think about the “good old days,” but there were plenty of problems back then, too. Others of us look to the future with hopes of how we’ll find a way to get out of our problems. But every time we’ve tried to follow these optimistic dreams in the past, things didn’t turn out as we’d hoped. We may solve some problems, but we seem to come upon (or cause) new ones in the process. No matter where or when you look at, things stink. The only thing that changes is the odor.

(And don’t even get me started on the politicians who are courting our votes by promising that the world will turn into a paradise if only we elect them. We’ve been around the block enough times to know how that usually turns out.)

Do I sound cynical and pessimistic? Perhaps. Of course, a pessimist would say that they’re just being realistic. And I think that’s the case here. Ever since Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit in the garden, we’ve lived in a world under a curse: the curse of sin. It’s a curse that the human race has suffered under ever since. And with us, the rest of creation as well.

However, it wouldn’t quite be accurate to call this a pessimistic view of the world. Because there’s a message of hope among it all. The time is going to come when the curse will be lifted and, as Paul put it, “creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom.” That liberation has already begun through the resurrection of Jesus Christ, as the new life of God has broken into the world. The promise has not totally been fulfilled yet, of course. If it was, then earth would be paradise and believers would be perfect. We have a hint of what is to come. And that’s the basis for Christian hope.

I need to interrupt here with a comment about Christian hope. Hope, for us, is more than wishful thinking. So often we speak about hope in terms such as “I hope the Steelers will win tomorrow,” or “I hope I get a pony for Christmas.” When we feel really confident, we may replace the word “hope” with the word “expect.” Then we say things like “I expect to graduate this spring,” or “I expect to see my brother this weekend.” When we say things like this, it indicates that we are doing more than wishing; we believe that our wishes will come true. We give ourselves better odds of it happening when we talk about “expecting” instead of “hoping.” But Christian hope is something completely different. It is a certainty that the future is real. It is so real that we can talk about it as though it has already happened. And it is the power of that already-happened future which reaches back into the present that gives us, well, hope. It’s a hope that drives us to move toward that future. It’s a hope that claims a reality which hasn’t yet happened, but which as certain as things from history that no one disputes: like the American Revolution and World War II.

So this message really isn’t pessimistic after all: it’s a optimistic as you can get. A wonderful, glorious future is on the way. We know that it is. We know it so strongly that we can already start to celebrate it.

So we do some celebrating, but we have some other things to deal with as well. As sure as the future is, the present still has a ton of problems and causes acres of grief. We know the dawn is coming, but the night is still so dark. So what do we do in the meantime?

This passage talks about moans and groans. Verse 22 tells us that all of creation is groaning under the burden of sin, evil, death, suffering, and brokenness that it must endure. Like Psalm 13, we cry out, “How long, O Lord?” No matter how optimistic we may be about the future, we have to be honest about the present situation. We’re still waiting for our vindication and victory. It’s not just us humans; it’s the entire creation that God placed under our care (Genesis 1:29-30).

There’s another kind of groaning, too. Verses 26-27 are a powerful testimony to the fact that the future is not merely a distant promise that we’re living toward. Even in the midst of our “in-the-meantime,” God walks with us. These verses are perhaps the most powerful explanation of the prayer relationship in the entire Bible. As we struggle with our weaknesses, our sin, our suffering – the evil we endure and the evil we cause – we are so overwhelmed that we can’t even speak. Words fail us. Language evaporates. We don’t even know what to say to God, or how to express our dilemma. That’s about as bad as it gets: not even being able to put your suffering into words! So, you’d think we have a real problem. The gift of prayer means that God will listen to anything we say to him. But what do we do when things are so bad that we can’t even say anything?

God’s love for us is so strong, and his future victory is so certain, that he steps in to join us in our deepest crises. The poem “Footprints in the Sand” tells us that God carries us when we can’t walk. But these verses tell us that God speaks for us when we can’t speak. God offers our prayers for us when we aren’t able to.

And notice what kind of prayers these are that the Spirit lifts up: “groans that words cannot express.” Just as Jesus joined with humanity in the worst of our suffering and sin, the Spirit carries the agony of life in a broken and hurting world that we must face as well. The groans of creation in verse 22 become the groans of the Holy Spirit, who prays for us when we can’t pray anymore.

It’s a wonderful future that we’re “hoping” for. It’s so wonderful that the Spirit walks and prays with and for us until it comes.

Acts 12:1-19 – This Stuff Really Works!

We say that prayer changes things. We say that prayer works. We say that prayer is powerful. So why are we surprised when things happen because we prayed about them?

This Bible passage is a perfect example of people being surprised by the power of prayer. It would be comical, if their reactions weren’t part of a powerful story. It begins with Herod’s decision to crack down on this troublesome group that had just started to call themselves “Christians” (11:26). Names are powerful. Up to this point they were simply Jews who had taken up this novel idea that Jesus was the Messiah. Now, with a name to identify themselves, they were becoming a movement of their own. They were still part of the overall Jewish community, but they saw themselves as distinct. Distinct means different, and different can mean conflict. Herod knew (or thought he knew) that they were a minority, and that if he wanted to stay in the good graces of the majority, he should crack down on them. He needed to pick his side in the conflict, so he went with what he thought would be the winning side. Too bad for him, this and other decisions would lead to his death before the end of the chapter. But that’s another story.

The best way to cut this Christian movement short was to decapitate it: get rid of its leaders. Even during the life of Jesus, Peter, Andrew, James, and John were the main leaders. Eventually James, the half-brother of Jesus, would become the head of the church in Jerusalem. But that time hadn’t come yet. So Herod’s goons swooped in and killed James (the brother of John, one of the four chief disciples). When he saw that his ratings went up in the polls because of this, Herod went on to arrest Peter, probably the most visible and powerful leader of this Christian group. Pretty much everyone knew where this was going: Peter would go through a show trial in order to make his fate public, and then he’d join James in martyrdom.

Herod didn’t want to leave anything to chance. These Christian weren’t particularly violent, as the Zealots were. But you never know what they might do in desperation. So Herod arranged for Peter to be held in prison with four squads of soldiers, with four soldiers per squad (a total of sixteen soldiers) to guard him. In each squad of soldiers, one soldier was to take one of the watches throughout the night, so that at least one soldier per squad would be awake at all times. Perhaps Herod didn’t think his soldiers were as disciplined as the Roman soldiers, who would be executed for sleeping on their watch. Or maybe he was afraid of a surprise attack which could overwhelm one soldier before his companions could be roused. So he made sure that a total of four soldiers would be on guard at all times, to keep each other awake and to support each other in case of a surprise attack. Plus, twelve more soldiers would be in reserve to wake up and help at the first sign of trouble. For extra measure, Peter was chained up, so that he couldn’t be whisked out of his cell very quickly. Herod’s preparations sound pretty impressive.

So what did the church do in response? They didn’t organize a group of secret agents to sneak into the prison, James Bond-style. Verse 5 puts it quite simply: they earnestly prayed to God for Peter. That’s all.

So, in the middle of the night, an angel appeared in Peter’s cell. He was asleep, chained to the wall, with two of the four soldiers on guard on either side of him. Peter must have been a heavy sleeper, because the angel had to slap him to wake him up. As Peter awoke, his chains fell off of him, and the angel told him to gather up his things and follow him. It seemed so unreal that Peter thought he was dreaming. The soldiers guarding him didn’t notice anything that was going on. Notice that the Bible doesn’t tell us that they had fallen asleep; they simply didn’t see or hear what was happening. The angel led Peter down the hallway of the prison, past the other two soldiers who were guarding him, all the way to the heavy iron gate of the prison. Not only was the door unlocked, but it opened all by itself. Peter followed the angel for about a block down the street, when the angel suddenly disappeared. It was only then that Peter snapped out of his dreamy surreal feeling and realized that it was all real. He was out of prison. God had done the amazing, the impossible. Despite all the best preparations that Herod could make, Peter simply walked straight out of his clutches. When it comes to God, it doesn’t matter how strong the chains are, how heavy the gates are, how alert the guards are. God simply does whatever he wants.

As amazing as his escape was, Peter knew that he was still a wanted man. God may have blinded the senses of the prison guards, but now that the angel was gone, all it would take was a street patrol to find him and recapture him as an escaped prisoner. So he hurried as quickly as he could to the house where he knew the fellow believers would be, where he could be taken in and given refuge.

As it happened, this was the very place where the church had gathered to pray for Peter’s safety and deliverance. When Peter started banging on the door, one of the servant girls went down to see who it was. She recognized Peter’s voice, calling to let him in before someone saw him and would summon the authorities. Now, we need to give Rhoda, the servant girl, credit. She really did believe that it was Jesus. But maybe she didn’t grasp the urgency of the situation and give him help right away. She was so excited and happy that she left the poor guy standing out in the street when she ran to tell everyone that Peter was there.

But no one believed her! This should strike us as the strangest part of the entire story. Here is a group of devout believers, willing to risk their lives to be faithful to God, seeking God’s mercy to rescue Peter. You’d expect them to be grateful and joyful that their prayers were answered, and that God had delivered Peter. At most, we’d expect them to be surprised at the way that it happened. They could even be amazed that their prayers had been answered. After all, we’re all a little bit like the father who brought his possessed son to Jesus (Mark 9:14-27): we believe, but we also have some unbelief. So when our prayers really are answered, it can knock our socks off. But even that wasn’t the response of these faithful who were praying for Peter. They outright refused to believe Rhoda’s good news that God had answered their prayers. They told her that she was imagining things. But when she insisted that it was real, that she really had seen Peter, they went one farther and told her that she must have seen his ghost, or his spirit. In many cultures that are more spiritually attuned than ours, it may be possible to recognize the presence of a person spiritually when they’re not physically present. But in most situations, we imagine this only when the person is dead and the spirit is no longer confined to the physical body. In other words, when the faithful finally accepted that Rhoda actually had seen someone, they decided that Peter had already been killed, and his spirit had come to visit them. Amazing! As they are praying for God to protect Peter, they’re more willing to believe that Peter is dead, that God hadn’t answered their prayer and that all was lost, than to consider that maybe prayer actually does work, and that God had done for them what they had asked.

I suppose that poltergeists can make a ruckus, but when the faithful heard for themselves that Peter was continuing to knock on the door and beg to be let in, they went down to see for themselves. I imagine that by this time Peter was pretty frantic: he had escaped prison but was out on the street, where any passer-by could blow the whistle on him, and his friends wouldn’t let him in! Finally they did, and they were overjoyed. God had done for them what they couldn’t even imagine to be possible, even though they had been asking him to do it. They were ready to break out the brass band and start celebrating. But Peter, who was probably still pretty jumpy about it all, did his best to shut them up so that no one would show up to investigate. He told them what had happened, and then left. Peter figured that once the authorities realized what had happened, they would show up at the house to look for him. So Peter left to go into hiding.

In the morning, the soldiers were amazed to see that Peter was gone. I can only imagine the shock, surprise, and confusion they felt. There was no way that it could have happened! Herod sent out the bloodhounds to look for Peter, but by then he was long gone. So he took out his frustration on the poor hapless soldiers.

The real lesson for us in this story (or at least one of them) is that things really do happen when we pray. We set limits on what we think is possible, and refuse to accept the wonders that God performs. We shortchange our own prayer lives. In a way, we allow our prayers to be nothing more than wishful thinking, forgetting that they connect us to a powerful and amazing God. When you pray, recognize that it actually works.

John 17:1-26 – The Lord’s Prayer

When we talk about the Lord’s Prayer, we of course are generally speaking of the prayer he taught to his disciples when they wanted to learn how to pray. But this passage is also the “Lord’s Prayer,” in a different way. It’s not the prayer he taught; it’s the prayer he prayed. And it’s not just any prayer. This is the prayer that he lifted up at the end of the Last Supper. In John’s gospel, this is the major portion of teaching that Jesus gave. Matthew has the Sermon on the Mount, and John has the Farewell Discourse at the Last Supper. The prayer is the culmination of all that Jesus had to offer to his disciples, and it comes immediately before he offered himself to arrest, crucifixion, and death.

At first, it seems as though we’re listening in on a private conversation between Jesus and his heavenly Father. But it doesn’t take long to realize that we’re not eavesdropping, because it’s a prayer for us and about us. In fact, that’s the whole point.

Two words come out repeatedly in this prayer; glory and unity. And the two go together.

First, Jesus asks the Father to glorify him, and he spoke of the glory that he brought to the Father and will bring to him. “Glory” is one of those odd words that everyone knows, but no one really knows how to explain. It’s associated with honor and respect: with increasing the power and influence of the one being glorified. When you glorify someone, you’re “expanding” them. When we think of glorifying someone, we generally picture a ticker-tape parade, cheering crowds, and receiving some sort of honor or award. But here, when two of the three Persons of the Trinity are involved in glorifying each other, it looks a bit different. In John’s gospel, Jesus’ cross is also a throne. He is glorified, and he glorifies his Father, through suffering.

Second, Jesus’ prayer expresses unity between himself and the Father. That’s appropriate, since they’re bound in this odd three-and-one sense of Trinity that theologians and philosophers have struggled with for centuries. It’s a unity that leads to honoring and glorifying the other and not the self.

But the prayer gets really interesting when we find out that we’re a part of it. When Jesus speaks of glorification and unity, he’s talking about us, too.

GLORIFICATION PART ONE: We’re looking forward to the day when we will be glorified and made utterly holy in God’s presence. In the meantime, God offers us protection from evil as we engage in a broken and evil world.

GLORIFICATION PART TWO: We bring glory to God as we are his presence in this broken and evil world, working to bring more and more of it into God’s realm. Work which we can only do through his power, of course.

UNITY: This passage is used by a lot of people who advocate for more unity among Christians. That’s great. But let’s be sure to recognize that this is not a unity based upon the decisions of people to join together, or of church structures to be merged together. It’s the unity that is based on God. In fact, the unity we share – with Christ, with one another – is an overflow of the unity of the Trinity. It’s a unity that recognizes difference, but not to show how our differences set us apart from each other, or even to argue that we’re better than someone else. It’s a unity that comes from the common identity “Property of Jesus Christ.” It’s a unity that comes from our shared salvation and creation.

And our unity is how we glorify Jesus. When the world sees that we are united, this is a powerful witness. And when we bicker and disagree with each other, it makes others wonder if there’s really anything different about us at all.