Our Present Sufferings
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Our Present Sufferings

 (ID: 2762)

Everyone faces suffering. In fact, the Bible teaches that all of fallen creation is suffering in the present age. Alistair Begg therefore reminds us of the need to interpret our experience in the light of God’s revelation. Suffering and glory are interwoven into the purposes of God. When we understand this, we are able to show the world how to experience sorrow and difficulty in light of a relationship with the living and exalted Christ.

Series Containing This Sermon

Life in the Spirit

Romans 8:1–39 Series ID: 26301


Sermon Transcript: Print

Romans 8:18. Paul writes,

“I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God.

“We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we [eagerly await] for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.”

Our gracious God and Father, we pray now for your help that our minds might be engaged, that our hearts might be ready to receive the truth of your Word. Help us to think properly. Help me to speak clearly. Help us to be prepared to receive your Word with eagerness. Only by your Spirit may this be accomplished, and therefore, we look away from ourselves to you. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

In his book The Weight of Glory, C. S. Lewis observes that when we consider the unblushing promises of all that God has in store for his children “we are,” he says, somewhat “half-hearted creatures … like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea.”[1] You can tell the context out of which C. S. Lewis is writing, in the midpart of the twentieth century, and he pictures so very clearly such a strange notion. You’ve got this little customer somewhere in London or in the Oxfordshire countryside, and his parents are offering him the chance to go to the seaside and to enjoy all that is pleasurable there, and he’s got such a strange view of things that he would rather stay in his backyard making mud pies. C. S. Lewis is equally matched by J. B. Phillips when, in 1961, he wrote what turned out to be a famous and well-read book, Your God Is Too Small. And in that book, he set out to expose inadequate views of God and to introduce his readers to the true and living God of the Bible.

And in a similar vein, here in this section of Romans chapter 8, we are confronted with the fact that our understanding of salvation needs to be set in the vastness and grandeur of all that Paul is conveying. It is right and necessary and proper for us to think of salvation, as the Bible does, in individualistic terms—the importance of our faith in the Lord Jesus being personal and practical and so on. But it is possible for us to conceive of that in such a way that the immediate nature, the personal dimension, of conversion, prevents us from considering what we might refer to as the cosmic dimensions of salvation: that the significance of the work of God is not to be limited to our tiny private worlds but has significance in the vastness of the world itself; that the ultimate plan of God in providing redemption in the Lord Jesus Christ is to put the universe back together again in a brand-new creation; that sin has fractured every relationship in the world, apart from the relationships within the Trinity—that is, between the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. It has made no impact there, nor could it. But sin has impacted every other dimension of life. And Paul here, in this great high peak of his Roman work, is reminding his readers to make sure that they, that we now this morning, get our chin up out of our chest and begin to understand something of the vastness of what God is doing.

And so I want us, throughout the time we have now and then again this evening, to understand that this passage makes clear that mankind’s relationship to God impacts the rest of the created order—that the fact that God brings a person into a relationship with himself has an impact on that person’s life within the framework of time and space. And so he is pointing out that the creation of which we are all a part has been subjected to frustration—you will notice that there—and that that creation is experiencing one day a liberation, and that that liberation will be expressed finally in this glorious transformation.

The ultimate plan of God in providing redemption in the Lord Jesus Christ is to put the universe back together again in a brand-new creation.

Now, these are not our points of outline this morning. I’m giving that to you freely, those of you who want ever to preach from this passage. But I think that works: verse 20, “the creation was [subject] to frustration”; verse 21, the creation itself will experience a liberation; and then, in the balance of verse 21, and be “brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God,” this wonderful transformation. And you will notice that there in verse 23, if you allow your eye to scan down, that the creation is described as waiting for the final “redemption of our bodies”—“for our adoption as sons,” for “the redemption of our bodies.”

I’m not going to go back down the path that we went down before, talking about what we do with the body upon death and so on. But you will notice that God is not finished with our material frame—that it is not something that is just to be discarded. It will be rolled up like a blanket, it will be rolled up like a robe, but you’re going to appear in a glorious and new form. There’s going to be a wonderful new edition of you. And part of what’s going on inside the life of the Christian is this dialectic between what I am—increasingly decaying—and what the Spirit of God tells me I’m going to be when he makes me absolutely brand-new.

And so, you will notice that this gives to us something at least to say concerning the contemporary preoccupations with ecology. And those of us who have lived for over half a century have lived now, through the last decade or more, being absolutely bombarded by a preoccupation concerning the importance of being green and so on. In fact, this week, in one of the hotels I was staying in, there was a little hook over the towel in the towel rack in the bathroom, and I can’t remember exactly what it said, but it said something strange like “This towel plants trees.” And I said to myself, “My, that is a remarkable towel! I’ll have to…” Because my wife and I were talking about maybe a few more trees in the driveway; I thought, “Well, maybe if I could take one of these towels home with me, it would save me a landscaping bill, and also quite a bit of effort from the part of someone, at least.” But I know what they were saying, and you know what they were saying as well. But every time you turn around, ecology grabs you by the throat.

Now, as Christians, what are we supposed to do? Well, we’re supposed to read our Bibles, and we need a good biblical theology so as to be able to articulate a view of ecology. And absent any view of theology, we may be swallowed up by the preoccupations of ecology, and we may have a kind of watered-down version of what others are absolutely committed to.

Let’s remind ourselves that this Christian life—this experience of knowing Jesus, of being set right with God in Jesus—is a mind-transforming reality. It changes the way we think—not simply about heaven and hell, not about life and death, but it actually changes the way we think about everything. Again, C. S. Lewis: “I believe in Christianity as I believe in the rising of the Sun, not simply because I can see it, but because by it I can see everything else.”[2] And what we see is this: that all the facts in the universe, including the facts in the Bible, must be interpreted in light of God’s revelation to us in the Lord Jesus Christ. Let me say that to you again, because it’s a very important statement: all the facts in the universe, including the facts in the Bible, need to be interpreted in light of the fact that God has disclosed himself finally and savingly in the person of the Lord Jesus Christ. This—God’s eternal purpose in the face of Jesus—is the principle of interpretation which casts itself over the totality of our view of absolutely everything and changes the way in which we would view things if that were not so.

I was so struck by the phrase in Dan’s prayer, I wrote it down. I know you’re not supposed to write things when people are praying, but I had to stop and write it down. Did you notice what he said in his prayer? “We thank you that you’re not some dead guy but the living Lord Jesus.” If he’d done that in Edinburgh twenty-five years ago, they would have thrown him out of the pulpit: “You can’t say that!” But I liked it, so I wrote it down: “You’re not some dead guy, but you’re the living Lord Jesus.” And therefore, that changes everything! It changes the way in which we view creation. It changes the way in which we view the use and abuse of the rivers, and the seas, and the fish, and the dolphin, and beagles being used in experimentation for those who are trying to prevent cancer. It changes all of that. And it should!

Now, what Paul is pointing out is that, having mentioned suffering and glory in verse 17, that you cannot separate them—if you’re in for the glory, you’re in for the suffering; if you’re in for the suffering, you’re in for the glory—but then, in verse 18, he says, “I want you to know that although they cannot be separated, nor can they be compared. Because the glory,” he says “that will be ours then far outdoes the sufferings we experience now.” Now, I’m wonderfully helped by this: “I consider that our present sufferings…” “Our present sufferings.”

All the facts in the universe, including the facts in the Bible, must be interpreted in light of God’s revelation to us in the Lord Jesus Christ.

Well, first of all, we might say, “Well, what do you know, Mr. Author, Mr. Paul, about present sufferings?” And he can answer that very clearly. And you can cross-reference this for yourselves by going to 2 Corinthians and chapter 11, where he takes on the false apostles of the day, who are suggesting that they have everything buttoned down. And he takes them on at their own game, and with tongue in cheek he says, “You want to say you’re a Hebrew? So am I. That you’re an Israelite? So am I. That you’re one of Abraham’s boys? So am I. You’re a servant of Christ? So am I. In fact, I’m more of a servant of Christ,”[3] he says. “I[’ve] worked much harder, been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, … been exposed to death again and again. Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked.”[4] You can go on to read the rest of it for yourself. So here is somebody who can speak with authority concerning the writing and the experiencing the phrase “I consider that the present sufferings…” The present sufferings.

In the depth of human suffering we discover the reality of God. In the depth of human suffering we encounter the fatherly presence. It is in the depth of human suffering that we learn—verse 15 and 16—to cry, “Abba, Father.” I said to you last time, I’m not sure that this is some great expression of somebody who has gone up into the third heaven, thereby experiencing this intimacy, but really, this is the cry when we can cry nothing else, because we’re aware of all that we’re going through.

Now, I wanted to pause on this this morning, because we’ve been thinking about this together as a church, haven’t we? We’ve been saying, “How do we articulate this notion of suffering in our world? How do we identify with those who are suffering when we ourselves want to always put the best face on things and pretend that we’re not suffering?” To do so is to violate what we find in the New Testament. Paul doesn’t launch into this glorious exposition of what it means to be in Christ and to be filled with the Holy Spirit so as to say, “And so you all know that we have no present experience of sufferings. We’re away above that! We fly above all of that turbulence. Our plane now, in Jesus, is able to go way up to forty-eight, forty-nine thousand feet. We can skip most of it!” But, of course, he doesn’t say that, because he can’t say that, and we shouldn’t say it either.

I understand—and you do too—that when we read our Bibles, it speaks of the fact that there is a joy that is unassailable, that we can count it joy when we face trials of various kinds.[5] We’ve sung about that this morning. But it is a joy that is faced in the midst of trials. It is a joy that exists contemporaneously with tears and with sadness. It is not a joy that says, “I am so joyful that I don’t cry,” but it is that strange paradox whereby even in my tears, I know that there is a joy that transcends what I’m experiencing. If you like, one of the challenges we face as those who profess to be followers of Jesus is the challenge to show the world how to be sad. I don’t know if you’ve ever thought about it in those terms. But the Christian ought to be the best at everything, and therefore the best at being sad.

We’ve got it upside down when we think that the way to prove to the world the reality of who Jesus is is we ought to say, “No, I’m not sad. Oh, no, my mother died, but I’m not sad.” What’s wrong with you? Are you brain-dead? Of course you’re sad! In fact, you may be more sad than someone else. “Oh, but you said… But it says that we ‘sorrow not’ as those who ‘have no hope.’”[6] That’s exactly right! But we sorrow as those who have a hope. And sorrowing in the reality of that hope and suffering in the experience of that is no marginalized suffering. It’s not a mitigated suffering. Grief is grief.

Now, I’ve told you before that the best little piece that I have read on this is the work by Nicholas Wolterstorff, the professor of philosophical theology at Yale Divinity School, who upon the death of their one child—a boy at the age of twenty-five—in a climbing accident was absolutely devastated. He waited twelve years until he wrote this book, Lament for a Son. And here’s just a flavor of twelve years on from the death of his boy:

Gone from the face of the earth. I wait for a group of students to cross the street, and suddenly I think: He[’s] not there. I go to a ballgame and find myself singling out the twenty-five-year olds; none of them is he. In all the crowds and streets and rooms and churches and schools and libraries and gatherings of friends in our world, on all the mountains, I will not find him. Only his absence.

Silence. “Was there a letter from Eric today?” “When did Eric say he would call?” Now only silence. Absence and silence.

When we gather now there’s always someone missing, his absence as present as our presence, his silence as loud as our speech. Still five children, but one always gone.

When we’re all together, we’re not all together.[7]

And in his preface he says,

[I’m often asked] whether the grief remains as intense as when I wrote. The answer is, No. The wound is no longer raw. But it has[n’t] disappeared. That is as it should be. If he was worth loving, he is worth grieving over. Grief is existential testimony to the worth of the one loved. That worth abides.[8]

“So,” says Paul, “I’m not writing to you Roman Christians with some silly nonsense about being removed from the realm of physical, emotional, mental suffering. But I want you to know—and you need to know this—that your present suffering is not worth comparing with that which God has prepared for those who love him.” In 1 Corinthians he says, “And eye has not seen and ear has not heard, neither has it entered into the heart of man, the things that God has prepared for them that love him.”[9] And what has to happen is that our feelings have to catch up with the facts. And that gap can last a long time. And that gap can reoccur.

And the psalmist gives it to us. That’s why the psalms really are the medicine chest of the human soul, because we go to the psalmist, and we find that he expresses all of the delight and all of the joy of a wonderful landscape, and a new morning, and the thrill of new birth, and all these other things, but he’s also the one who helps us when we don’t know what to say. When he says, “How long will you forget me, O Lord? Forever? How long must I have sorrow in my heart all day long? How long must I go through this?”[10]—that is not a jig. That is a lament! The background music to that is played in a minor key. And the Christian experience is not the experience of being removed from the rigors of life but is the experience of knowing that even though this lasts for all of my life, as it may do—as a besetting illness may do, as the loss of limbs may do, whatever it may be. Peter says, “Even though you experience trials of various kinds for a little while…”[11] A person says, “‘For a little while’? My uncle was invalided for the totality of his life since the age of twenty-three. How can you call that ‘a little while’?” Well, you see, that is why we have to set this tiny experience of our transient lives in light of the vastness of God’s purpose from eternity to eternity.

“Oh no,” he says, “I consider that the present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed.” This is not a sort of Christianized version of Tony Bennett, you know: “Smile, though your heart is aching; smile, even though it’s breaking. When there are clouds in the sky,” you know, “you’ll get by.”[12] You know, what does that tell you? It tells you nothing! It’s just “pump yourself up,” you know? It’s miserable, it’s wretched. You know, your dog died, your uncle’s up the creek, your kids are driving you nuts, and you don’t want to hear Tony Bennett singing on the radio all that jazz. No, you want something deep and good. You want to go somewhere and have a good cry. You want to go park your car and just cry for a while. Then we’re down to brass tacks. Now we’re honest. I can live with this. I understand this. “This stinks, Jesus!”

And he says, “I know it does. I know it does.” Because we do not have in Christ a high priest who is removed from the reality of our lives, but one who is touched with the feelings of our infirmities, entering into the depths of all that our humanity means.[13] Again, I think C. S. Lewis is right: before the unblushing promises of God, we settle for too little. And in seeking to make things appear the way they’re not, we do a disservice to ourselves, to the Bible, to the gospel, and to those who are wondering about these things.

Samuel Rutherford wrote to a lady in his congregation who had most recently been widowed, and he said, “I[’m] now expecting to see, and that with joy and comfort, … that [you] defy troubles, and that your soul is a castle that may be besieged, but cannot be taken.”[14] And in making sure that we know that it cannot be taken, let’s not pretend that it hasn’t been besieged. It’s a good little picture, isn’t it? You might say to yourself—someone asks you, “How’re you doing?”—say, “Besieged, but not captured.” It’s not that the sufferings are insignificant—they’re real, they’re painful—but that the contrast is so vast.

Winslow, in his day—Octavius Winslow, that is—says, “One second of glory will extinguish a lifetime of suffering.”[15] And we’re going to come to that later on, where he talks about childbirth—this evening, I think—about which I know very little, but you ladies will be able to give us a glowing report.

Now, verse 19. The believer is not alone in this experience, because the creation is involved in it as well. And you have this amazing statement that needs to be understood in light of contemporary preoccupations: “The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated,” and so on. What he’s saying here is this: that when Adam and Eve sinned, the entire universe fell with them; and as a result, that universe, which is in bondage to decay, is waiting for a day when it will be liberated.

At the most crass level, it’s waiting for the day when there will be no more dandelions filling up your grass in your front yard. Now, for those of you who are big dandelion fans, I understand that. But for me, I will know that I’m living in a new heaven and a new earth when I look out on my front lawn and there are no dandelions, ’cause they are weeds. They’re weeds! And there will be weeds now, all the way through, but not in the new creation. Even, apparently, I don’t think we’re going to have thistles, because thistles are described as an indication of the fact that the ground is now cursed[16]—which is distinctly disappointing when you realize that the thistle is the flower of Scotland. So we know that that isn’t going to be in the coat of arms over the gates of heaven. I don’t think there’s going to be a thistle up there.

But the universe now, the creation now, within itself is in bondage and is in need of liberation. This is a radical concept. It challenges so much that is prevalent. For those of you who read in these things and think them out, you will be aware of the Gaia hypothesis. The Gaia hypothesis. Don’t think I’m trying to impress you with this, but I wrote it down so that I could read it, so that you would know that I was reading it, rather than try and memorize it and make you think I understood it. So here it is: “Living organisms and inorganic matter are part of a dynamic system that shapes the Earth’s biosphere and maintains the Earth as a fit environment for life.”

Now, where I came on this was not by reading contemporary philosophy but by listening to one of my favorite singers—namely, James Taylor. And in a recent album from James Taylor, he sings about this very hypothesis, and he sings a song about Gaia. It is an anthem combining science and paganism. I’m not going to read it for you or even sing it to you, but it goes along the lines of expressing the wonders of creation: “Sacred wet green one we live on, Gaia,”

The petal sky … the rosy dawn,
The world turning on the burning sun,
… we live on, Gaia.

Run, run, run … said the automobile,
And [we] ran; run for your life, take to your heels,
Foolish school of fish on wheels, Gaia.

What’s he saying? He’s saying the fish are supposed to swim in the oceans. They should be left to swim in the oceans; that’s the way it’s supposed to be. We are the foolish ones who now are like big fish riding round in these big tanks on wheels called cars, which are belching out all kinds of badness and destroying the very universe in which we live: “Foolish school of fish on wheels,” “run for your life” and “take to your heels.”

Someone’s got to stop us now,
Save us from us, Gaia. …

Pray for the forest, pray to the tree,
Pray for the fish in the deep blue sea;
Pray for yourself and …
Say one for me, poor wretched unbeliever.

Someone’s got to stop us now,
Save us from us, Gaia.[17]

Now, that’s a wonderful opportunity for a big, long conversation with someone over a cup of coffee. Because it’s not all wrong, is it? We are responsible for many of these things. We contribute to the demise of things. Everybody thought it was a fantastic idea to build all of these buildings full of asbestos: “Oh, no, we love asbestos! Let’s it put it all up there! It’s terrific stuff.” Twenty years on, someone says, “I’m not going in there, touching that asbestos.” Why not? [Imitates coughing.] We learn as we go. But the underlying notion in this is pantheism—that there is no God who is the Creator who stands outside of his creation, but that god is creation, that god is the earth, the earth is god, we’re part of the earth, we’re part of this organism, and so on, and inorganic matter, all rolled up into one big ball.

And when people give you that stuff, what are you going to say in reply? Well, you’re going to tell them about Romans 8. You’re going to tell them about Romans 8. Actually, the Bible has a very interesting take on this. It says that “the creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed.” What does that mean? It means this: that the whole of creation is standing on tiptoe, waiting to see the wonderful sight of the sons of God coming into their own.

“Oh,” says someone, “I can’t go with that. That just is bizarre to me.” Now, that may be the same person, remember, who’s a big Avatar fan, who’s already decided that 2154, in Pandora, it’s all got fixed over there. Why did Cameron write about 2154 and a place called Pandora? How did he know enough to write about it? Because he knows exactly where contemporary civilization is: “We’ve completely goofed this place up; therefore, we’d better have another place. Let’s have another really nice place where it isn’t all messed up, where there’s a tree of life in the center of the garden, and that tree of life becomes the source of our universe.” Exactly! That’s not too far removed from the fact that the whole of creation is groaning, waiting for the expectation of the sons of God. We’ve got the groaning. We’ve got the disappointment. We’ve got the expectation. We’ve just got the wrong conclusion!

Dear friends, if we’re going to live in this twenty-first century culture, if we are going to engage with neighbors and friends, if we’re going to be prepared to read contemporary literature, read our newspapers, read magazines, watch the TV, and go on and seek somehow or another to speak into the lives of people, it is not sufficient for us to simply keep trotting out individualistic, subjective notions concerning who we are in Christ. Not that we step back from that! That is the whole beginning of Romans 8. That is the very central emphasis of it all: “We are not this; we’re this.” “There is therefore no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus.”[18] So the reality of being in Christ is then set within the context of being in Cleveland. I am in Christ, and I am in Cleveland. I am in the place where the river went on fire. I think you would call that pollution! What does the Bible have to say about pollution? What does the Bible have to say about the existence of the universe and so on?

Well, when we come back tonight—those of us who do—we will follow along this line, and we’ll discover that there’s a lot of groaning going on: that the creation is groaning, that the Christian is groaning, and it actually says that God is groaning. But in the meantime, if you’ve come as a visitor, and you say, “You’ve gone way past me on this one. I’m just trying to figure out the story of Jesus himself, why he even came,” then we have a little booklet called The Story, and after I’ve prayed, through the doors to my right and your left you can find one of those booklets and someone who will be glad to talk with you about the contents of the booklet.

But for now, let us pray:

“The God who made the world and everything in it … does not live in temples [made] by hands,”[19] nor is he in need of anyone of us. He’s in control of history and of geography. He’s in control of the details of the lives of his children. And so we pray, gracious God, that when trials come to prove us and to reprove us, in the ongoing experience of suffering, we pray that you will give us grace to wait until our feelings catch up with the facts; that we might know, in a way that stands on the promises of your Word, that although for a little while we face these trials of various kinds, that it is built into the very scheme of things that the joy that we will one day know will so obliterate any memory of the trials that they will appear to have been insignificant and passed in a moment. But for now, they don’t appear so. For now, they nag at our heels. For now, they confront us again and again. And so we pray that you will help us to stand on the promises of your Word.

And may the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God our Father, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit rest upon and remain with each one who believes, now and forevermore. Amen.


[1] C. S. Lewis, “The Weight of Glory,” in The Weight of Glory: And Other Addresses (1949; repr., New York: HarperOne, 2001), 26.

[2] C. S. Lewis, “Is Theology Poetry?,” in The Weight of Glory, 140. Paraphrased.

[3] 2 Corinthians 11:22‒23 (paraphrased).

[4] 2 Corinthians 11:23‒25 (NIV 1984).

[5] See James 1:2.

[6] 1 Thessalonians 4:13 (KJV).

[7] Nicholas Wolterstorff, Lament for a Son (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1987), 14.

[8] Wolterstorff, 5.

[9] 1 Corinthians 2:9 (paraphrased).

[10] Psalm 13:1‒2 (paraphrased).

[11] 1 Peter 1:6 (paraphrased).

[12] John Turner and Geoffrey Parsons, “Smile” (1954).

[13] See Hebrews 4:15.

[14] Samuel Rutherford to Lady Kenmure, Anwoth, Sept. 14, 1634, in Letters of Samuel Rutherford, ed. Andrew A. Bonar (London: Oliphants, [1904?]), 101.

[15] Octavius Winslow, No Condemnation in Christ Jesus (London: John Farquhar Shaw, 1852), 207.

[16] See Genesis 3:18.

[17] James Taylor, “Gaia” (1997).

[18] Romans 8:1 (paraphrased).

[19] Acts 17:24 (NIV 1984).

Copyright © 2025, Alistair Begg. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations for sermons preached on or after November 6, 2011 are taken from The ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

For sermons preached before November 6, 2011, unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version® (NIV®), copyright © 1973 1978 1984 by Biblica, Inc.TM Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Alistair Begg
Alistair Begg is Senior Pastor at Parkside Church in Cleveland, Ohio, and the Bible teacher on Truth For Life, which is heard on the radio and online around the world.