READ Romans 8:12–17
So then, brothers and sisters, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh—for if you live according to the flesh, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, “Abba! Father!” it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ—if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.
MEDITATE
It’s déjà vu all over again! Are we reading Romans 8 or yesterday’s passage from Galatians 4? Slavery versus sonship. Adoption. “Abba! Father!” Has Paul saved excerpts of his letter to the Galatians and inserted them here—the ancient equivalent of cutting and pasting?
He hasn’t. Look: there’s a difference. The master who enslaves us in Romans isn’t a misguided form of Torah-obedience but something new: fear. Just plain fear. Oddly enough, the object of fear is usually something or someone good: God (Romans 3:8; 11:20; 2 Corinthians 5:11; 7:1) or the empire as an object of respect (Romans 13:3, 4, 7). “With fear and trembling” is how to welcome auspicious guests (1 Corinthians 2:3; 2 Corinthians 7:15) and the right way to work out our salvation (Philippians 2:11).
But here, in today’s text, fear is something unwelcome. Here and in 2 Corinthians 7:5: “For even when we came into Macedonia, our bodies had no rest, but we were afflicted in every way—disputes without and fears within.”
Disputes without and fears within. This snippet of Paul’s letter takes us straight to the hymn “Just as I Am,” to the tune of which millions have gotten up from their seats and poured, like molten lava, into aisles in stadiums, churches, and tents at the end of a Billy Graham Crusade. “The buses will wait!” I heard him, when I was a kid, pleading at Shea Stadium over the swell of the stanzas. The third stanza still stings:
Just as I am, though tossed about
with many a conflict, many a doubt,
fightings and fears within, without,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.
It stings because I’m a worrier, a fretter, by nature: fightings and fears within, without. My father, who wasn’t very good at handling stress himself, used to smile (or was that a wince?) and say, “Jack. Don’t sweat the small stuff.” But I did. I do. I probably always will.
What is there for a Christian to be afraid of? It’s puzzling that Paul doesn’t supply an object of fear in his letter to the Romans. Normally this would bother me. The margins of my students’ papers are full of “Be specific!” and “Example?”—and I’m the one who’s put those comments there, in pen! But in this letter, imprecision is important. By being imprecise, Paul makes fear a magnet for an army of enemies that rear their ugly heads. What is the fear to which a spirit of slavery leads? Condemnation (Romans 8:1, 34), death (8:11, 38), suffering (8:18, 35–36), whatever lies beyond our control (8:28, 38), whatever threatens to insert itself between God and us—hardship, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, peril, sword … death, life, angels, rulers, things present, things to come, powers, height, depth, anything else in all creation (8:31–39). Enough!
Famine and persecution I get. But life? Why life? Because life is hard enough to handle—with episodes and experiences that threaten to undo us. I’ve known and empathized with Christians who’ve been separated from a love of Christ (separated from their love for Christ, not Christ’s love for them) by the relentless onslaught of these realities.
I’m not there, not yet anyway. The separation is slim. I still steel myself, squeeze my eyes shut, throw my arms out in front of me—and plunge ahead. I need to learn, deep in my gut, that I have received a Spirit of adoption, and that I can cry out intimately and boldly, honestly and irritably, in a panic or serenity, Abba! Father!
REFLECT
PRAY
Holy Spirit
I’m not asking you to cause life or death to disappear
hardship or distress to vanish
persecution or peril to evaporate
But you can settle fears within this soul of mine
this panicked heart
this anxious spirit
Holy Spirit
Banish the Unholy Spirit
as real as you
but unwelcome
You can quiet my qualms
Anxieties that dog my steps by day
Forebodings that haunt me by night
Holy Spirit
I’m not asking you to cause death or life to disappear
But to hearten me with the love of Christ
with a love for Christ
Amen
