Case Closed!

Romans 8:31. Page 8-0-1.

“What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all―how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who is he that condemns? Christ Jesus, who died―more than that, who was raised to life―is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: ‘For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.’ No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Amen.

We pray together:

Gracious God, help us now to focus our attention on your Word, and come by the Holy Spirit, and bring its truth home to bear upon our lives. You know exactly who we are and the nature of our condition in this moment, and we are confident that you will match your Word to our needs according to your purpose. And we pray in expectation. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Well, we’re turning today, I think for the last time, to Romans chapter 8―that is, both this morning and this evening. It may not be the last time ever, but I suppose it could be the last time ever. We never know. We’ve been studying Romans 8 for a little while. We began by noticing that it is one of the high peaks of the New Testament. We might even say it’s one of the high peaks in the terrain of all of the Bible itself. It begins with “no condemnation,” and it ends with “no separation.” And in many ways, it reinforces, it echoes, some words of Jesus recorded in John chapter 6. When we were last together in the evening, we sang a song with the refrain “And I will raise him up, … I will raise him up on the last day.”[1] That refrain comes from this portion of Scripture. And I’m quoting from right around John 6:39: “The will of him who sent me,” said Jesus, “is that I should not lose anything of what he has given me, but raise it up on the last day. And this is the will of him who sent me, that everyone who looks to the Son and believes in him should have eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day.”[2]

Now, what we have here is really the answer to the almost inevitable question of a baby Christian. When somebody first comes to believe in Jesus, to look to him, as John 6 says, to trust in him, pretty quickly, somewhere along the line they will have occasion to say, perhaps to someone who’s been a Christian for a little longer, “You know, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to hold true to the end. I don’t know if I will be able to hold on.”

And the answer, of course, in Jesus, in John 6, which is aptly reinforced by Paul in Romans 8, is a resounding yes. What he’s saying is, “There is absolutely no doubt about it: once in Christ, in him forever.” And it is important that we constantly keep in mind that these verses are describing the condition of those who are “in Christ Jesus”―“in Christ Jesus,” united with him in the way in which we have been singing this morning: “Once I was lost. Once I was a hell-bound person. Once I was going in a completely different direction. And then the grace of God opened my eyes to see that that was true and furthermore made it clear to me that Jesus had done something wonderful, something necessary in relationship to that. And I came to trust in Christ. I became a follower of the Lord Jesus Christ.” And as we sang in the hymn, “And I didn’t have in myself the strength to continue to obey Jesus. He provided that also.”

And it is this, then, that Paul is affirming as he comes to the end of Romans chapter 8. He provides for us a series of questions and affirmations, and we resume our consideration of this closing section in verse 33, where he asks the question “Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen?”

Now, in the same way as we saw in the last question—verse 31, “If God is for us, who can be against us?”—he was not saying there that nobody can be against us. What he was doing was setting all opposition proportionately in the context of the fact that if God is for us, then no matter who can be against us, it is ultimately of insignificance. In the same way, when he says, “Who will bring any charge against God’s elect?” he’s not suggesting that nobody may bring a charge. Because the fact of the matter is, even our own hearts accuse us, our friends oppose us, our enemies seek to undermine us, and the Evil One, who’s described in part in the Bible as “the accuser of [the] brethren,”[3] is the one who comes again and again to say, “Well, you couldn’t possibly be a Christian. After all, I can’t believe that you just shouted at that person. I can’t believe that you have been so unfeeling towards your spouse. I can’t believe that you’ve been so prayerless. I can’t believe that you are this, and you are that, and you are the next thing.” And indeed, the accuser of the brethren may accuse us before the Father and say to God, “How can you possibly look upon this person with favor? Don’t you realize that they are sinners? And how, then, can you declare them justified?”

That is a great question! And that is, if you like, the great question. And the answer, of course, that the Father would give in such a dialogue is not to try and bolster up our self-esteem by reminding our accuser of all the pluses in our lives, but rather of turning the gaze of our accuser to one place―namely, to the cross of his Son—and saying to the one who accuses us, “Yes, she is a sinner. Yes, he is a sinner. But look at my Son’s hands, and look at my Son’s feet, and look at the wounds in the side of my Son. Who are you to condemn?”

So what we really need to do—to come back to the analogy of Perry Mason from last time—is to recognize that what the Bible is telling us is this: that the case against us is closed; that there is no possibility of double jeopardy; that no one can once again reraise the charges that were justifiably against us―not because of how well we have been doing but because of how wonderfully Christ has made an atonement for sin in the cross. And I try and remind myself, and therefore you, of this with consistency: in the cross, God has satisfied his perfect and his holy justice by executing the punishment our sins deserve. Without that, God would not be true to himself. And in the cross, the Lord Jesus has pardoned those who believe in Jesus, even though we have sinned and even though we deserve his condemnation. And without this we would be inevitably excluded from his presence forever. That’s why we often go to 2 Corinthians 5:21 and sit, as it were, before it and think: God was not counting their sins against them, but he who had no sin was made sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in him.

And so, what he provides for us are facts for our consideration: “Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen?” Who could bring a charge? God could! Who could condemn? Well, only Jesus could. “Who is he that condemns?” And this little verse here is actually a complex verse. It’s even hard to read. And depending on the translation of the Bible, it pushes you one way or another. And so often Phillips gets me out of my problem, and he did once again in his paraphrase. This is how he puts verse 33, 34: “Who would dare to accuse us, whom God has chosen? The judge himself has declared us free from sin. Who is in a position to condemn? Only Christ, and Christ died for us, Christ rose for us, Christ reigns in power for us, Christ prays for us!”

If this was to be set to music, there would just be a rising crescendo as he builds one thought upon another. “Facing condemnation, facing accusation,” says Paul, “you need to know that there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”[4] And why is that? Because the only legitimate judge is God. And God has brought forward his judgment in the last day into present time in the person of his Son, Jesus, so that all those who come to trust in Jesus need not fear the judgment that will be rightly executed on the last day. For it is appointed unto man once to die, and after this comes judgment.[5] That judgment, on a day, is fixed, it will be fair, and it will be absolutely final. That’s the promise of God’s Word: the day of judgment is fixed, judgment will be executed with justice and fairness, and the verdict that is pronounced on that day will be absolutely final.

How then may a man or a woman approach the very end of life and the prospect of all of that with any sense of security at all? Certainly not by looking into ourselves. Certainly not by trying to improve ourselves. The answer is: only in and through the work of the Lord Jesus Christ upon the cross. Christ died for us. Christ was raised. Christ is living. Christ is interceding for us.

The day of judgment is fixed, judgment will be executed with justice and fairness, and the verdict that is pronounced on that day will be absolutely final.

Now, we sing these truths, don’t we, at Easter time and so on, in Ascension Day? “The head that once was crowned with thorns is crowned with glory now”[6]—that the place of Jesus, presently, is a place of dominion and a place of authority; that he has fulfilled the expectations of the Old Testament in himself. When the psalmist, in Psalm 110, pictures the one who will be seated on the right hand of the Father,[7] he is pointing forward to the finished work of Jesus upon the cross. You can read Psalm 110 for yourself if you make a note of it and remember to go back to it.

“Well,” you might say, “is it really that significant? After all, you know, we’re just getting on with our lives. Do we really need to keep coming back to this message of the cross? You seem to be on about it almost ad nauseum here at Parkside. You seem to be constantly emphasizing this.” Well, yes, I am. Yes, we are. Why? Because it is the focus of the entire Bible! The story of the Bible is the story of what man has done in putting himself in the place that God deserves―exalting ourselves to the highest place, worshipping substitute gods, making ourselves feel better. And the unfolding story of the Bible is the story of what has happened to humanity as a result of man putting himself in the place that God deserves. And the good news of the Bible is what has happened as a result of God putting himself in the place that man deserves―that God, in the person of Christ, has come and has indwelled our place and inhabited our time, and has gone to the cross so that we who are justifiably the recipients of God’s righteous wrath may be the benefits of his wonderful grace. This is the good news, incidentally. This is the gospel: that God has done this for us in Jesus, and that all who will come to trust entirely in this will know the reality of it.

There’s something else in this that I feel it is important to point out―namely, that what the Bible is pointing out to us here is that the Lord Jesus Christ is somewhere. In fact, he’s not just somewhere; he is in the presence of God the Father in heaven. In other words, he was raised as the God-man. His resurrection was a physical resurrection. His ascension did not send him nowhere; it sent him somewhere. It sent him, the Bible says, to the place in which he is now located. So the physical presence of Jesus is in its exalted state in heaven.

You say, “Well, does that really matter?” Yes, it matters tremendously, and about a lot of things that we might never, ever considered. Where is Jesus physically present, then, according to the Bible? In the presence of God the Father. Therefore, he is not physically present anywhere else. Right? He is present in other places by the Holy Spirit, but he is not physically present anywhere else. He is corporeally―which is the word―in heaven. Therefore, he is not corporeally on earth. Therefore, loved ones, he is not present in the Roman Catholic mass. He cannot be! He is in heaven, exalted in his body. Therefore, bits and pieces of him are not down in some little place. They cannot be! You’re sensible people. Think it out.

Is there a difference? There is a huge difference. And you know it if you come from a Roman Catholic background. Because you know that your focus was not on Christ who is risen and there but on a Christ who is present and here, and that the most important thing for you was to make sure that you paid due reverence to the Host, to the physical presence of Christ, which you were told is contained in this little container, and when the bell rings and when the thing goes, all of this now is Jesus. Loved ones, it can’t be! He is present physically in heaven. Does that matter? Is this just some predilection of Reformation Christianity? No! Because there’s all the difference in the world, and your Christianity will be determined by where you look.

If you are someone who looks to the here and the now and the “down here” and the “in there,” then I can pretty well guarantee you, you do not understand what is being described for us here in Romans chapter 8: that there is no condemnation, there is no separation “for those who are in Christ Jesus.”[8] Because as we sang, my life is Christ. My life is Christ. There is no life for me in Jesus apart from Christ. His life is my life. His death is my death. His resurrection is the basis of my resurrection. Ontologically, it is inevitable that I must be raised. Why? Because I’m a pastor? No, because I am in Christ!

Do you see how different this is? Do you see how this takes you away from man, and from the intercessions of man, and from the significance of a man who could perhaps be, somehow or another, an intermediary for you, to put in a good word for you, for this one? Do you see how much superstition is tied into all of that? I say again to you: Jesus, his real presence, is there.

Peter does this. He says this in Acts 3; it’s recorded in Acts 3. He says this on the day that he preaches in Jerusalem; he says of Jesus, “He must remain in heaven until the time comes for God to restore everything.”[9] “He must remain in heaven.” He’s physically in heaven! Not bits and pieces of him. His wounds are obvious in heaven. “Before the throne of God above, I have a strong and perfect plea,”[10] and on the basis of a once-and-for-all atonement, this Jesus continues to secure for those who are his own all the benefits of his death.

Let me give you one cross-reference, ’cause I know some of you are staring at me hard, and that’s all right. Most people will say, “Well, you know, I can’t believe Begg. When he starts off on these things, it really is such a disappointment, because by and large, he’s not really as bad as that on most Sundays. But every so often…”

On the basis of a once-and-for-all atonement, Jesus continues to secure for those who are his own all the benefits of his death.

Listen, my dear friends, let me tell you something: some of the finest friends I have in the Cleveland area right now are some of the most devout Roman Catholics. I love them with an absolute passion—some of the kindest, dearest, most sincere people I know in the entire greater metropolitan area of Cleveland. I love them. I long for them. I don’t know where they stand. I don’t know how they unravel their own theology. But I do know this: that there is a distinction between loving individual Roman Catholics who are bound up in a system that they may or may not understand and speaking straightforwardly about the distinction between Roman Catholic theology and Reformation theology. And they are not the same things. And I would do you a disservice if I were to suggest to you that they were, because then you might go out and assume that there are multiple ways to be placed in Christ―and one of the ways would be to have a religious professional do something for you or do something to you, thereby putting you in a secure position with God, when in actual fact, the only way that you may be placed in a secure position with God is as a result of coming to him in childlike faith and on your knees in repentance as one sinner in need of a Savior.

Now, Hebrews chapter 7. Look at it. Hebrews chapter 7. And then we’ll go to one more question, and then we’ll stop. Hebrews 7. He’s quoting in part here from the Psalms, from Psalm 110, which I’ve suggested to you already. We won’t back up too far. We’ll just go to verse 23. Says the writer, “There have been many of those priests”―he’s been talking about the priesthood in the Old Testament. He says, “There have been many of those priests, since death prevented them from continuing in office.” That makes perfect sense, doesn’t it? “We’re going to get another priest, because our priest died. So, we’ll need another one.”

“But,” verse 24, “because Jesus lives forever…” “Because Jesus lives forever.” He doesn’t die! Because he lives forever, “he has a permanent priesthood.” Oh, wow, that’s different! And he therefore, notice, “is able to save completely.” Completely. Completely! He doesn’t just get us started and then say, “Now try and make sure that you can get to heaven by doing your best.” He saves completely! This is the great wonder, this is the great mystery, this is the great terror, if you like, of the gospel: that in the death of Christ, not only has he saved me retrospectively, but he has saved me prospectively―that all the sins that I have yet to commit are also covered in his death upon the cross.

This is revolutionary, you see. Indeed, when you make this really clear, even people who believe it start to wonder whether they should believe it. “I can’t possibly believe that! Are you then saying”—and they always have another corollary or two: “Well, are you then saying that you can just sin any time you want, sins have…” No, he deals with that in Romans 6. That’s for another Sunday. But no, we’re not saying that at all!

But don’t get tripped up by what we’re not saying. Let’s just notice what we are saying: He’s “able to save completely.” Who? “Those who come to God.” How? “Through him.” Through no one else! “Through him, because he always lives”―there we go again―“to intercede for them. Such a high priest [as this] meets our need―one who is holy, blameless, pure, set apart from sinners, exalted above the heavens. Unlike the other high priests, he does not need to offer sacrifices day after day, first for his own sins, and then for the sins of the people.” Why not? Well, “He sacrificed for their sins once for all when he offered himself.”[11]

Case closed. Case closed. “Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen?” “Who is he that condemns?” Christ Jesus died, Christ Jesus was raised, Christ Jesus ascended, Christ Jesus prays for us.

You see, do this little test for yourself in your mind. Someone comes to you and says, “Well, do you have any confidence that you will end up in the presence of God in heaven?”—and you say, “Yes,” and they say, “Why?” Do you then use the first person in your answer?―i.e., when they say, “Well, why?” you say, “Because I…” “Because I…” “Because I did this. Because I believe. Because I was… Because I am… Because I, because I, because I…” Be real careful if you do. ’Cause that’s not the right answer. The right answer is in the third person: “Because he…” “Because he…”

That’s one of the ways you’ll know you’re a Christian. That’s one of the ways you will know that this stuff about which we’ve been singing this morning has actually taken root in your life. Because you’ve actually come to—when you sing those songs, you go, “This is just a… It is a mystery. It is a mystery. All I have is Christ. At the end of the day, what else do I have?” All the stuff that we have, and all the stuff we’re about to accumulate in the next three or four weeks, all that stuff goes back in the box when the party’s over. It all goes back in the box at the end of the day. It’s all finished up! Eventually, you wrap it all up, you put it away. What do you have left? “All I have is Christ.”[12] He’s my only hope. I’m a sinner. He’s a Savior. That’s the message! And it is in that that Paul is able to make this great affirmation.

Well, we’ll go to verse 35, just get it started, and then we’ll come back this evening, God willing.

Verse 35: “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?” Once again, he’s not suggesting that there aren’t things that would threaten to separate us. What he’s doing is he’s setting the challenges that come against us within the security that God provides for us. And he runs through a list. “Here,” he says, “are some of the enemies of our happiness. Here are some of the things that challenge our security in the Lord Jesus Christ.” And once again, he is returning to the notion of suffering—which he has done already, hasn’t he? We needn’t go back all the way to that, but if you have been memorizing it, you will know that the “sufferings,” he says in verse 18, “are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.” In other words, he’s not saying, “Now, in Christ, we’ve been removed from the realm of suffering.” Rather, he says, “When we face suffering, we have to realize that whatever this is and however long it goes on, it actually pales in significance in relationship to all that God has planned for us.”

Without a proper theology of suffering, we will be tempted to do one of two things: either just bury ourselves in despair, or we’ll attempt to import what God promises for the then into the now. In technical terms, we will be tempted to an over-realized eschatology. In other words, the things that are all part of the then we will want to bring into the now. In common terms, that simply means that when the Bible says that he will wipe away all tears from our eyes,[13] we start to suggest that he’s going to do all of that for us now―that there will be no more sighing, there will be no more crying, there will be no more dying, there will be no more cancer, there will be no more of this stuff. That is all an absolute guaranteed promise, but it is then; it is not now.

And if we don’t have a theology of suffering that is able to face suffering and do something with it, then either we will bow down under the weight of suffering and will become morose, or we will be tempted to deny its presence by saying silly things and making affirmations that aren’t true. The list that Paul provides here I don’t think he just grabs out of the air. I think that he’s just able to extrapolate from his own experience—that you can go and read the journeys of Paul and see if there’s any validity to such an assertion. Trouble? He knew it. Hardship? He knew it. Persecution? He knew it. Famine? He knew it. Nakedness? He knew it. Danger? He knew it. Sword? He knew it.[14]

So this is not arm’s-length theology. Indeed, there’s a prophetic element to this. Because each of these elements and more beside are represented in the persecution that was about to come within a decade under the emperor Nero. When Nero unleashed the fury of the state against the Christians, he unleashed all of these things. And Paul, in a kind of prophetic element, is assuring these people as they live their lives that there’s actually nothing will be able to separate them from the love of God that is in Jesus―the hot blast, if you like, of opposition that comes from the society and from the culture; the rejection that they will inevitably face. “No,” he says, “you need to be absolutely secure in this.”

Now, our time is gone, but I’ll give you one other cross-reference—an exercise, if you wish, later on today or during the week: go back and reread Lamentations chapter 3. You know that Lamentations chapter 3 contains one of your favorite verses, doesn’t it? One of my favorite verses, certainly: “It’s because of the Lord’s mercies that we’re not consumed. They’re new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”[15] It’s a great verse―two verses, actually. They’re preceded by verse 21. Verse 21 says, “But I stop,” it says essentially, “but I stop and consider this.”[16] And that stop to consider is after twenty verses during which time Jeremiah has outlined how incredibly difficult, hard, and discouraging life is. He’s given us twenty verses that said life is really, really, really hard. Then he says, “But I stop, and I consider this: it is because of your mercies that we’re not consumed. Great is your faithfulness.” In other words, you see, it’s proportion again, isn’t it?

Well, we can come back to this this evening. As I was wrapping up my study, I had a hymn that came to mind. We’re not going to sing it; we are going to sing another hymn in conclusion. But I had a hymn that came to mind that we used to sing in Charlotte Chapel. And I didn’t know where it came from. I discovered that it was written in 1906 by a lady called Ada Habershon, and she wrote it as a result of somebody sending her a note saying, “I think we need a good hymn that will be helpful to remind the fledgling Christian that they are able to continue all the way to the end of their Christian journey.” And so she wrote a number of hymns, and she sent them to Philadelphia, interestingly, in time for a crusade that was being conducted by R. A. Torrey, and this hymn was introduced at an evening event by a fellow called Charles M. Alexander to a congregation of some four thousand. And they were taught to sing,

When I fear my faith will fail,
Christ will hold me fast;
When the tempter would prevail,
He can hold me fast.

I could never keep my hold,
He will hold me fast;
For my love is often cold,
He must hold me fast.

I[’m] precious in his sight, …
Those he saves are his delight.
He will hold me fast.

He’ll not let my soul be lost,
Christ will hold me fast;
Bought by him at such a cost,
He will hold me fast.

He will hold me fast,
He will hold me fast;
For my Savior loves me so,
He will hold me fast.[17]

It just occurs to me how much life has changed, even since twenty years ago. And those of us who were parents twenty years ago, with children that were relatively small, will recall those wonderful and glorious days when we used to be able to put the children in all kinds of positions in those minivans and station wagons―some of them looking out of the back window like a dog, some of them sitting up in between the gear stick and the emergency brake, some of them hanging over the top, some of them—whatever it was, it’s just, “Get them in, and let’s get going. We’re going to Florida.” I hate to think, to tell you, some of the things that we used to do on those trips to Florida that I can’t even bring them up, because they accuse me.

But anyway, I mention that because my daughter now, with this granddaughter, drives me nuts. Absolutely nuts! Because now you cannot move more than fifteen yards where you have to strap this creature up and in: “No, we can’t go in the taxi, Dad; they don’t have the thing. We can’t go here; we’ve gotta get the bucket. We gotta put the thing. We gotta get the strap. We gotta fit the thing.” And so eventually this little creature’s just strapped and buckled in all the time, so that she―in your case, he or she―is held fast. Why not just let her hang on? Why not just say, “Hey! Hey, Leona, we’re going to the San Francisco airport. Hang on as best you can. Just hold on! No, you’ll… We’ll get there. Don’t worry! You may bounce around a little bit, but it won’t matter at all. You’ll be fine.” No.

But that’s the picture that some of us have of the Christian life: that somehow or another, God has said that to us; he says, “You know, hang on the best you can. You’ll probably get there, if you just hold on. Just hang on now. Hang on! Hang on!” He doesn’t do that. No, he comes to us, and he buckles us in. He straps us in. He takes us to himself. “He gently leads those that have young.”[18] He gathers the little ones, the lambs, close to his heart. Those the Father loves rest between his shoulders.[19] He holds us fast.

Loved ones, this is not presumption. This is security. This is the security of the believer. This is the hope that can look life in the face, in all of its ugliness, and affirm Christ, that can look the grave in all of its loss and affirm Christ. And Townend has helped us wonderfully by giving us not “He Will Hold Me Fast” but “There is a hope that stands the test of time.”[20]

So let me pray, and then we’ll stand and sing this song:

Father, work out your plan in each of our lives, we pray. Confirm your Word to us, all that is true, so that we might receive it as from yourself and not from simply a man. Erase from our recollection anything that is untrue or unkind. And grant that we might come to find ourselves all bound up in Christ because we’ve realized that we are the ones in need, that he is the one who has made the great provision, and that in childlike trust and believing faith, with a repentant heart that comes turns from our sin, that we may be caught up in his embrace, not only for time but for all of eternity.

Thank you for such a great and glorious gospel. Help us to trust it, to proclaim it, and to live in the strength of it. And thank you that you’ve given to us such a wonderful way to affirm these truths when we gather around your Table and look to all that is represented for us there in the once-and-for-all atoning death of Jesus, in whose name we pray. Amen.

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[1] Suzanne Toolan, “I Am the Bread of Life” (1966).

[2] John 6:39–40 (paraphrased).

[3] Revelation 12:10 (KJV).

[4] Romans 8:1 (paraphrased).

[5] See Hebrews 9:27.

[6] Thomas Kelly, “The Head That Once Was Crowned with Thorns” (1820).

[7] See Psalm 110:1.

[8] Romans 8:1 (NIV 1984).

[9] Acts 3:21 (NIV 1984).

[10] Charitie Lees Bancroft, “Before the Throne of God Above” (1863).

[11] Hebrews 7:25–27 (NIV 1984).

[12] Jordan Kauflin, “All I Have Is Christ” (2008).

[13] See Revelation 21:4.

[14] See 2 Corinthians 11:16–29.

[15] Lamentations 3:22−23 (paraphrased).

[16] Lamentations 3:21 (paraphrased).

[17] Ada Ruth Habershon, “He Will Hold Me Fast” (1906).

[18] Isaiah 40:11 (NIV 1984).

[19] See Deuteronomy 33:12.

[20] Stuart Townend, “There Is a Hope” (2007).