God Is for You

The heart of the gospel is that God is for you. That’s about as simple and direct as you can say it. God is for you. But that simple sentence requires unpacking.

There is one, living, sovereign, and all glorious and triune God. He is infinite, eternal, unchanging, all-sufficient, most wise, most holy, most just, most merciful and gracious, abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness. He is the Maker and Sustainer of the world, and the Lord and Ruler of history. 

And this God–this one, living sovereign, all-glorious, and triune God is for you. He’s on your side. He’s in your corner. He’s not indifferent to you or apathetic about you. He’s not hostile to you or opposed to you. His goodness and mercy pursue you all the days of your life. 

The heart of the gospel is that God is for you. 

Now, few of us feel the glory and wonder of this reality. We hear it. We confess it. We sing about it. We want to boast and glory and exult in it. But our hearts struggle to rise to such glory. And one reason for this struggle is confusion. We don’t see the glory clearly. 

And so my very modest goal this morning is to sow some seeds of clarity from Romans 8 about the heart of this gospel in hopes that the Holy Spirit will raise your affections higher. More than that, I want to offer some clarity that may help you testify to the heart of this gospel to the world around us. More than that, I want you to revel in what John Piper calls the greatest promise in the Bible. 

The World’s Confusion About the Courtroom

In this passage, we hear the language of charges, justification, and condemnation. These words place us in a courtroom. There are three people in view: the accuser who brings the charges, the accused who is on trial, and the judge who renders the verdict and pronounces the sentence.

And this brings us to our first confusion. As Christians, we know that we’re the accused and God is the judge. But the world around us is confused on precisely this point. For many, the idea that we’re the accused is a problem. They don’t see themselves as the criminal in the courtroom. In fact, for many people, God is the one who needs to answer some questions. As C.S. Lewis noted seventy-five years ago, God is the one on trial. This, Lewis said, created a new situation for us. 

“The early Christian preachers could assume in their hearers, whether Jews or Pagans, a sense of guilt…Thus the Christian message was in those days unmistakably the Evangelium, the Good News. It promised healing to those who knew they were sick.”

On the other hand, “We have to convince our hearers of the unwelcome diagnosis before we can expect them to welcome the news of the remedy.”

The ancient man approached God (or even the gods) as the accused person approaches his judge. For the modern man the roles are reversed. He is the judge: God is in the dock. He is quite a kindly judge: if God should have a reasonable defense for being the god who permits war, poverty and disease, he is ready to listen to it. The trial may even end in God’s acquittal. But the important thing is that Man is on the Bench and God in the Dock. (C. S. Lewis, God in the Dock (ed. Walter Hooper; HarperOne, 1994), 267.)

Let’s call that the World’s Confusion. 

The Christian’s Confusion About the Courtroom

The Christian confusion is more subtle. When we Christians hear the language of the courtroom, we know that we’re the accused and that God is the judge. But what about the accuser? “Who will bring a charge (an accusation) against God’s elect?” What do we think of when we hear “accuser”? We think of the devil, making accusations against us. In fact, the name “Satan” means accuser. 

And this can feel a bit confusing. Because Satan’s the bad guy. He hates us. He’s a malicious liar and murderer. The name “devil” means “slanderer.” So he’s the accuser and he’s the slanderer. So what’s he doing in God’s courtroom? 

Our imaginations at this point can lead us astray. We, perhaps, begin to imagine a courtroom where the prosecutor–the accuser–is maliciously evil. He’s uttering false accusations against us, lying about us, slandering our character.

And then we might begin to imagine that the accuser is effective, that his accusations are working. His false charges are sticking. Which means the judge is either blind or compromised. He’s inept, or he’s on the side of the devil.

Both of these errors–the World’s Confusion about who is exactly on trial, and the Christian’s Confusion about the role of the devil–hinder our ability to rejoice in the heart of the gospel. In the former case, the news that “God is on your side; he’s declared you ‘not guilty,’” is met with “Who does he think he is?” Or even more, “We don’t need him. In fact, he probably isn’t even real. He’s just a fiction to make us feel better. And if he is real, he’s got some explaining to do.”

In the more subtle confusion, we may feel some relief that God is for us and has rescued us from the false accusations that the devil was bringing. But our relief may also have a twinge of “What are you doing allowing that liar to come after us at all?”

The Common Core of Confusion

In both cases, our chief difficulty concerns the reality and gravity of sin. In the same essay I quoted earlier, Lewis noted that the greatest barrier he faced in his evangelistic efforts is “the almost total absence from the minds of my audience of any sense of sin.”

Apart from that sense of sin, the gospel doesn’t make sense. That’s why a crucial part of the church’s witness in the modern world is the reality of God’s holiness and Jesus’s demands for the world. As Dwight Moody is reported to have said, “You’ve got to get people lost before you can get them saved.” 

And this is difficult in the modern world for a number of reasons. Let me give you two. First, modern culture rejects the moral and natural law of God. Lewis referred to this as “the Tao,” the objective moral and rational order embedded in the universe. In his book The Abolition of Man, Lewis demonstrates that a belief in the Tao, in the objective moral order of the cosmos, was common to all ancient cultures and civilizations. (He took the term Tao from Eastern religions precisely to communicate this universality. In other words, this isn’t just a Western, European, Christian concept; it’s common to almost all civilizations before modern times.

The doctrine of objective value–the belief that certain attitudes are really true, and others really false, to the kind of thing the universe is and the kind of things we are–was common to all teachers and even all men. Jewish, Christian, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, Pagan–whatever differences there are between them–and these differences are substantial–a common thread was the belief in objective reality to which we must conform ourselves.

Modern people, on the other hand, view reality as playdough, to be manipulated according to our wishes and desires. There is no law that binds all of us, no Law-Giver that stands over us as judge. 

For Lewis, the difference between ancient pagans and modern unbelievers is that the ancient pagans had a self-conscious sense of sin and guilt–that’s why they sacrificed to the gods and engaged in all sorts of rituals to purify themselves. Modern people, on the other hand, have a sub-conscious sense of sin and guilt that often comes out sideways. We still seek purification, innocence, and justification through social media signaling or political action or bodily transformation. But we’re a guilt-ridden people who no longer believe in objective standards.

Cultural Christianity?

That’s why I can’t join those Christians who celebrate the demise of cultural Christianity or Bible Belt religion. These Christians welcome the loss of Christian culture in Europe and America because they believe that cultural Christianity was a hindrance to the spread of the gospel. It lulled people into a false sense of security, it covered over rank evil, and it was a stumbling block to unbelievers. 

Now there may be truth to that criticism, but I think this is a significant error. Cultural Christianity never saved anyone, and to the degree that it covered over sin and wickedness, God hated it, and we ought to condemn it. But cultural Christianity, however imperfect, was and is a manifestation of the Tao. In that sense, it’s a form of pre-evangelism. It tills the soil to prepare it for the seed. It teaches us through laws and customs and cultural practices the reality of the Tao, of God’s moral order. So, cultural Christianity never saved anyone, but it did give many a sense of sin and guilt, which prepared them for the good news of Jesus. 

And this brings me to the second difficulty for us in the modern world. Many of us want our friends, family, and neighbors to know Jesus. And we don’t want them to stumble over other things. We think, “If they stumble over Jesus, that’s fine. But let’s remove the other stumbling blocks.”

The problem is that we can’t separate Jesus from his demands, including the demands of the moral law which he established in the creation of the world. We may not and must not water down or mute the voice of God in his word and in our conscience. And how tempting it is to do so. How tempting it is to present Jesus only as the fulfillment of people’s desires and aspirations, as the source of comfort and happiness, without ever pressing upon them the reality of God’s law and their sin. How easy it is to turn Jesus into one more malleable part of reality, one more lump of playdough that we can mold and shape however we want. How easy it is to re-make God in our image, rather than face the fact that we have dishonored him as the One whose image we bear.

In the face of these two difficulties–the loss of the consciousness of the moral law in our culture and the temptation to please people by muting the demands of Jesus–what should we do? We must labor to creatively and clearly and courageously press the law of God on the consciences of men. Like Nathan with King David, we must work, with God’s help, to awaken the moral sense of our friends and families, and then to lovingly and clearly turn it to say, “You are the man!” We do this, in hope that they come to feel their lostness and therefore are able, by God’s grace, to see and savor the glory of the heart of the gospel. 

And of course, this begins with us and brings me back to the more subtle confusion that Christians have about the courtroom. We must not think that the accuser in God’s courtroom is a liar. The reality is he doesn’t need to lie. 

So for a moment, instead of the devil, imagine the holiest of the angels is the prosecutor. He stands before the Righteous Judge and turns to Romans 1. He points to each of us and says, “You have not honored God as God. You have not treasured him and delighted in him supremely. You have not given thanks to him for all of his many kindnesses to you. You have exchanged his glory for idols, his truth for a lie, and you have worshiped and served creatures, including and especially yourself, rather than your Creator who is blessed forever. You have followed the lusts of your heart; you’ve debased your mind. You have despised the masculinity of men and the femininity of women and indulged every sort of dishonorable passion and sexual immorality. You have been filled with all manner of unrighteousness, evil, covetousness, malice. You are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, maliciousness. You are gossips, slanderers, haters of God, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil, disobedient to parents, foolish, faithless, heartless, ruthless. You know God’s decree; it is written on your heart. Yet you have suppressed the truth and celebrated ungodliness and unrighteousness in yourself and others. You are the man.”

That’s the reality of the situation. Now imagine sitting there, knowing that every word of that is true, and every ungodly thought, every careless word, every sinful desire, and every unrighteous deed is laid bare with damning evidence. And then imagine that the judge, the infinitely holy and unimpeachably righteous judge, looks at you and says “Not guilty. No condemnation. Righteous. Justified.” More than that, he looks at you and says, “I am 100% for you. I’m on your side, in your corner. I’ve got your back. My goodness is yours forever.”

Beneath the Shock

That cries out for explanation. And that’s what Paul gives in Romans 8:33-34.

Who will bring a charge against God’s elect? God is the one who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died, more than that, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. 

That series of questions and answers contains a deeply profound argument. If the Supreme Court of the Universe has ruled in your favor, what charges could possibly stick? Who could possibly bring a charge against you, if the supreme and righteous Judge has rendered his verdict?

God is the Justifier. So who is to condemn? [lit. who is the Condemner?]

Paul then points to the ground of God’s justification. He reaches back to his earlier argument in Romans 3-4. 

For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, 24 and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, 25 whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith. This was to show God’s righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over former sins. 26 It was to show his righteousness at the present time, so that he might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus. (Romans 3:23-26)

God justifies the ungodly, the guilty, as a gift, as grace, because of what Jesus has done. Jesus pays the debt and satisfies God’s judgment, through his death on the cross, which we receive by faith. Thus, God is able to be both truly righteous and the justifier of the sinner who trusts in Jesus. 

In other words, the reason that you, a guilty sinner, condemned for your rebellion against God and the objective moral order he embedded in the universe, can be declared righteous is because Christ died for you. He was raised for you. He ascended to heaven and sits at God’s right hand for you, and even now is making intercession for you. In other words, there is a fourth person in this courtroom. Not only is there a judge and an accuser and you the accused. There is an Advocate. As the apostle John says in 1 John 2:1: “My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.”

This is the unpacking of the heart of the gospel. The Righteous Judge justifies you; he counts you righteous; he reckons righteousness to you because by grace through faith you are united to Jesus Christ the Righteous One, who died, was raised, ascended to God’s right hand, and ever lives to plead for you. 

Don’t miss the intercession of Jesus here. The book of Hebrews (7:22-28) compels us to dwell on Christ’s intercessory work. Jesus is the guarantor of a better covenant, because unlike the Levitical priests, he holds his priesthood permanently. They died, and that was it. He died, and was raised. He continues forever, seated at God’s right hand, and as a result, he is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them.

But Wait, There’s More

If that was all, that would be amazing. But there’s more.

Last week in Pastor Jonathan’s sermon, what struck me most about Romans 5 is the repeated use of the phrases “not only that,” “much more,” and “more than that.” 

We have peace with God. We’ve obtained access into the grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in the hope of glory. Not only that, we rejoice in sufferings. While we were sinners, Christ died for us. Since we’ve been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from God’s wrath. Since we were reconciled while enemies through his death, much more shall we be saved by his life. More than that, we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus. 

We see the same element here in the work of Christ. He died, more than that, he was raised. More than that, he ascended and sits at God’s right hand. More than that, he intercedes for us. 

This is so crucial. The God who is for us, the God who meets us in the person of Jesus, is the God of More Than That. He’s the God of “But wait, there’s more.” There’s always more. 

And not just in terms of Christ’s work, but in terms of the good he intends for us. 

No Separation

Notice the shift in the question that begins in Romans 8:35. We go from the courtroom–accusation, justification, condemnation–to love. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?

And then he presents potential obstacles that could conceivably separate us from Christ’s love: tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, sword. We can see the difference. The courtroom questions had to do with sin and guilt and moral evil. That’s one sort of barrier to God’s being for us. This question has to do with suffering and hardship and natural evil.

And Paul’s argument is that the work of Christ completely removes the first, and fundamentally transforms the second. The death, resurrection, ascension, and advocacy of Jesus removes all sin and guilt. No condemnation. Real justification. No higher appeal. But more than that, the work of Jesus transforms the suffering that we endure on his behalf. That last part is important; verse 36. “For your sake we are being killed and treated like sheep to be slaughtered.” 

These sufferings are for the sake of Jesus. But notice that he doesn’t limit himself to merely persecution. He includes all manner of suffering–distress, famine, nakedness, danger. These sufferings too are for Jesus’s sake. 

And how does the work of Jesus transform these hardships and sufferings? The work of Jesus makes these hardships work for our good. That’s what Paul says in Romans 8:28: “We know that for those who love God all things work together for good,” including tribulation, distress, persecution, and the rest. 

Or to put it another way, the work of Jesus makes us more than conquerors in all these things. Now what does that mean? What does “more than conquer” mean? When you conquer something, it means you overcome it. You don’t let that thing hinder you from accomplishing your purpose. So, to conquer tribulation and distress and famine and so forth would mean that you don’t let those things prevent you from reaching your destination. In other words, a conqueror endures. 

More than a conqueror recognizes that these sufferings are not merely hardships to be endured, but are themselves means of giving us more of God. A conqueror endures suffering; he guts it out. A more-than-a-conqueror rejoices in suffering, because suffering works endurance, character, and a hope that will never disappoint. He knows, he is persuaded, he is sure that nothing can separate him from the love of God in Christ Jesus–not life or death, not angels or rulers, not things present or things to come, not powers, nothing in the world above nor in the world below, indeed nothing in all of creation can separate you from God’s love in Christ.

The Greatest Promise in the Bible

Which brings me back to the greatest promise in the Bible. Romans 8:32. The heart of the gospel is that God is for us, and therefore no one and nothing can be successfully against us. Not now, not ever. And then Paul gives a particular kind of argument. It’s an argument from the greater to the lesser.

He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? 

If God did not withhold his Son from death for you, what will he not do for you? This argument is built on the infinite worth and value of Jesus and the Father’s eternal and infinite love for his Son. Given the infinite worth of Jesus to his Father, and given that he gave his Son for you on the cross, there’s no way he’ll hold anything back from you. If he didn’t withhold Jesus, then no good thing will he withhold from you. He’ll give you everything. 

And, amazingly, he’ll give you everything with him. Don’t miss that. God gave up his Son, but didn’t lose his Son. God didn’t spare him, but he also received him back in the resurrection. Which means all the good that God intends to give you, he will give you with Jesus. 

He will always be for you the God of More Than That. And there will always be more. 

The Heart of the Gospel at the Table

Which brings us to the Table. This Table represents the heart of the gospel. It’s designed to be edible persuasion, to help us be sure of God’s unstoppable love. 

God so loved the world he gave his only Son, that whoever believes will not perish but have eternal life. God so loved that he did not spare his Son but gave him up for us all so that he will give us all things with him. 

God made him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. God is the Justifier of the one who trusts in Jesus because Christ died, more than that, was raised, more than that, is at the right hand of God, and more than that is interceding for us. 

God shows his love for us in this, that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. And nothing–not the true accusations of angels or the false accusations of devils, not the hostility of persecutors nor the tribulations of life, not distress or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword, not life or death, the present or the future, or anything else in all creation–can separate us from that love.