I was speaking with a woman several years ago who was really struggling; she just couldn’t see that God still loved her. I spoke about the promises made to her in Holy Baptism; we talked at length about the faithfulness of our God, but nothing I said seemed to provide much comfort. It wasn’t until I stopped speaking and just listened to her story that I learned the depth of the problem. It wasn’t that she didn’t know the promises of God; it wasn’t that she had simply forgotten over time what our Lord had done for her. No, it was that life had piled so much on her plate that there was simply no relief, nowhere to turn. Everywhere that you and I might turn for comfort- to family, to a spouse, to caring friendships; all of it was in turmoil. Mental health issues, unexpected death, family betrayal, were the ethos of her life. It went from one painful reality to another, as every door of escape was shut to her. She knew God’s promises, but as she examined her life, it seemed as if he had forgotten her and was content to let her struggle.
And I think to various degrees we all know this struggle. It may not all pile on at once, but it is that ever-present fear and confusion that comes through life’s hardships. It may be felt in those long nights when sleep is elusive, when you seem uncertain of who you are. You replay the decisions you’ve made and try to anticipate the trajectory of your life. As your regrets play through your mind like a family movie, you begin to wonder where God is in all of this. And in a real moment of crisis, when profound sadness or depression grips your heart, you turn in prayer to your Lord. You cry out to him, sometimes with eloquence and profound words, sometimes in desperation, and in the silence that follows, you are faced with doubts. And though you know the promises of God, you begin to wonder: Has God forgotten?
This question hangs over our reading today from Romans 11. He asks, “Has God rejected his people?” His people, his chosen ones. He made promises to them; he called them, set them aside; he gave them the prophets and the true worship; from their lineage was born our Savior. But now they are turning away, rejecting the message of God’s hope and mercy through Christ. And Paul himself is deeply grieved by this; his heart aches. In fact, he had wished that, if it were possible, he would be accursed and cut off from Christ if it meant that his kinsmen might come to faith; he would sacrifice himself for them if it were possible. Did God forget what he had promised?
Paul’s answer is clear. He says, “By no means!” Now, the text we read in church today was a bit chopped up. And some of the sections that the reading skipped are quite important to fill out Paul’s argument. He first draws attention to the fact that God always carried forth a remnant. Though the history of the people of God is marred by the rejection of God’s gifts and a constant turn toward idolatry, God always ensures that a few carry the promise forward. St. Paul uses himself as an example of such an act of mercy. He is a descendant of Abraham, he is of the tribe of Benjamin, and he has been mercifully brought into God’s kingdom.
When I hear such an assertion, I am reminded of what the prophet Isaiah confesses when he says, “For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.” God’s Word does not return to him empty; it accomplishes his purpose, it brings forth faith and salvation. And this Word does its work even when men reject it. It doesn’t just wither and die because of man’s obstruction.
We are all products of the Word. The Word spoke us into being; the Word filled our lungs with life. John says, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made.” There is no escaping the Word; we are destined to be entwined with it. When the Word is rejected, mankind falls, twisted into something less than what we were created to be. But the Word continues to work, even using one’s rejection as a call for another to hear and believe. We are dependent upon the Word, not the Word upon us.
And so Paul will speak about branches being broken off in their rejection of the true faith, yet such a pruning makes room for the grafting in of others. We may not be descendants of Abraham or of the tribe of Benjamin, but we now participate in the nourishing root of the ancient tree of faith. This root is the faith of the remnant shaped and formed through all the generations of mankind. It is marked by the blood of martyrs who confess the true faith amidst the hostility of the world. It is carried by Noah through the floodwaters. Informed by Moses as he leads the Israelites through the Red Sea on dry ground. Embraced by young David as he faces down Goliath. Championed by Daniel as he spends the night in a lion’s den. It is the faith of parents who bring their children to the waters of Holy Baptism, the faith of all of you as you gather once again to receive the gifts of God. God has not forgotten, for you are here; you are the remnant of the faithful. The Word will not return empty.
So Paul says, “Just as you were at one time disobedient to God but now have received mercy because of their disobedience, so they too have now been disobedient in order that by the mercy shown to you they also may now receive mercy.” You become the beacons of God’s mercy in this age; you bear witness to the ancient faith. For the Word of God is not encapsulated by you; rather, it captures you and encircles all that you are. In fact, he says, “God has consigned all to disobedience, that he may have mercy on all.” No one remains untouched by the Word of God.
In your terrors, in your dark times of doubt and fear that God has forgotten his promises, you are called to look at the grand scope of his work. And in so doing, we stand in awe that we are here, invited into his presence to receive his gifts. And here the Word continues to do its work, declaring that you are forgiven, and loved, and precious in his sight. And so we confess with St. Paul, “ Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!… For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen.”
