Romans 8:18-30 The Gospel - Gods promise to fully redeem sin

Theological Proposition/Focus: The world is broken, but God's plan is not just to fix the brokenness like we would patch a tire but rather to completely restore brokenness into something unimaginable.

Christ Focus: Jesus Christ is the guarantee, model, and means of restoration. His suffering precedes glory, His resurrection secures ours, and His Spirit sustains us while we wait.

Homiletical Proposition/Application: Because our future restoration is certain, we can endure present suffering with hope, wait without despair, and live with confidence rather than fear.

Introduction

Image: Trying to patch something that is fundamentally ruined—duct tape on a bumper. It might hold briefly, but it was never meant to last.

A few weeks ago, Ryan and I were looking at pictures of a car that was for sale. At first glance, it looked promising. The body looked clean, the mileage was reasonable, and everything seemed to check out. But at the very end of the photo gallery, we noticed one last picture. When we looked closely, we realized the front bumper was being held on with duct tape.

Now, did it work? Probably—for a time. But it was obvious this wasn't a real fix. Someone had tried to hold together something that was already broken, and no amount of duct tape was ever going to make it whole again. What looked like a solution was really just a delay. It wasn't restoration; it was denial.

And that's often how we deal with brokenness.

Setting the Stage:

In Romans 8, Paul is writing to believers who know suffering firsthand. Their pain is real, and their world is harsh—but hope is not lost. Romans 8 does not minimize suffering; it reframes it in light of God's redemptive purposes and eternal promises.

At the very beginning of the letter, Paul addresses his audience not simply as a church, but as "all in Rome who are loved by God and called to be His holy people" (Romans 1:7). Acts doesn't tell us much about how the church in Rome began, but history gives us some insight into what life in Rome was like.

Rome was the capital of the world—the center of power, culture, and commerce. But like every major hub, it was also marked by deep brokenness. Many early believers were from the lower social classes, living in the crowded Trastevere district along the Tiber River. It was a densely packed area with narrow, winding streets—a melting pot of cultures and peoples.

The district was also home to many Jews, whose monotheistic beliefs set them apart and made them objects of suspicion. During the reign of Claudius, Jews were specifically targeted and eventually expelled from the city. While we don't know every detail, history paints a picture of hardship, instability, and uncertainty for early Christians in Rome.

It is into that world—one marked by suffering and brokenness—that Paul speaks words of hope.

With all of that in mind, let's read together Romans 8:18-21.

Body

Broken — Brokenness is real, but it is already marked for redemption (8:18-21).

Present suffering is real, but it is not worth comparing with the coming glory (18).

If you read Romans 8:18-21 with the Trastevere district in mind—a crowded immigrant neighborhood with narrow, winding streets—Paul's words begin to resonate more deeply. Life for Roman Christians was not impossible, but it was far from easy. There was a constant sense that things were not the way they were supposed to be. Creation itself felt stuck, waiting, groaning. The present sufferings simply made life heavy.

And while our context is different, we know this feeling too.

We live in a country with real advantages, and yet you feel it. You go to work at a job you mostly like, but some mornings it's still hard to get out of bed. You stop at the grocery store to buy milk and realize—again—that the price has gone up while your paycheck hasn't. You get home and discover the water heater is leaking. Another unexpected expense. Another reminder that things don't quite hold together.

I don't want to minimize the severe persecution believers face around the world. But I do want us to recognize that even in comfortable homes, with grocery stores just down the road, we are still living in a world that is not the way it was created to be.

So if you feel like you are living in a world marked by suffering, you're not imagining it. You're right. This is not how God designed creation to function.

But don't despair—because brokenness does not get the final word.

Paul says the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. That preposition matters. This is not merely God's glory revealed to us, but God's glory revealed in us. At the end of all things, God will use you and me as part of His display of restored glory. We are not just observers of redemption—we are participants in it.

One of the most significant events on the horizon is the glorification of Christ Followers (19).

Paul builds tension in verse 19 by reminding us that all of creation shares in this brokenness and eagerly longs for restoration. There's an irony here. Paul is writing to believers in Rome—the capital of the empire, the center of power—about creation waiting for something better.

At the same time, imperial propaganda was declaring that a new golden age had arrived. Augustus was being celebrated as the one who brought peace—not just to the empire, but even to the natural order itself. As one scholar notes, the message was that Rome had finally solved the world's problems.

Paul is writing to people who are being told everything is wonderful when their lived experience says otherwise.

And without getting too political, we understand that tension. We're told things are improving while our expenses rise. We're told problems are being solved while new ones keep appearing. There's a disconnect between the message and reality.

Paul cuts through that illusion. He says creation is waiting—not for another ruler, not for another policy, not for another empire—but for the revealing of the sons and daughters of God. In other words, the world is broken, but a day is coming when Christ will return and reign in righteousness. When Christ reigns and His people share in His glory, creation itself will begin to experience true restoration.

So if you're weary of promises that claim the world is fixed when it clearly is not, you're not alone. Paul invites us to reject false hopes and eagerly wait for the true King to take His throne.

But that still leaves the question we feel right now: "Why is the world still broken? Why hasn't God fixed it yet?"

God has allowed brokenness to serve His redemptive purposes, not to have the final word (20-21).

Paul tells us that creation was subjected to frustration—not by accident, and not without hope. The word Paul uses for "frustration" (ματαιότης) carries the idea of futility or emptiness—the sense that things don't accomplish what they were meant to.

And that feeling is real. The question, "What's the point?" is one we all ask.

But Paul's answer is that God is using present futility to bring about future freedom. Creation is in bondage to decay now, but it will be liberated. What feels pointless in the moment is part of God's plan to bring completeness and glory.

Again, the contrast with Roman claims is striking. Augustus had declared that he freed the world from decay. But nothing could have been further from the truth. The world was decaying then, and it still is now.

The difference is this: Rome promised freedom it could not deliver. God promises liberation—and He will keep that promise.

Image: Diapers and potty training—no one enjoys the mess, but the mess is not the goal. Something far better is coming.

Diapers and potty training—no one enjoys the mess, but the mess is not the goal. Something far better is coming.

No one enjoys potty training. It's hard work. Honestly, it can feel messier than diapers. But you endure it because you know where it's heading. The mess is temporary. The outcome is worth it.

In the same way, brokenness is not the goal. Redemption is.

MTR: This week, when brokenness hits, deliberately orient your heart toward redemption instead of despair.

So here is the turn for us this week. When brokenness shows up—and it will—resist the instinct to immediately despair or to scramble for a quick fix. Instead, pause and deliberately reorient your heart toward redemption. Remind yourself that what feels frustrating, futile, or exhausting is not meaningless, and it is not permanent. God has already marked this brokenness for restoration. When the grocery bill is higher, when the house breaks again, when relationships feel strained or life just feels heavy, let those moments become reminders that this world is not yet what it will be—and that God is still at work. Don't deny the pain, but don't let it define the story either. Lift your eyes beyond the mess and anchor your hope in the coming glory that God has promised to reveal in His people.

Waiting — Waiting is painful, but hope keeps us from settling for less (8:22-25)

The effects of the Fall are cosmic—creation groans alongside us (22).

The language Paul uses in verse 22 is a natural continuation of his argument. Creation, he says, is experiencing something like birth pains—painful, intense, and ongoing, but also purposeful. Birth pains point forward to something we know is coming: the redemption of all creation.

Paul is careful to note that this groaning did not start recently. It has been happening since the Fall and continues right up to the present moment. This matters because Paul is writing to people who are being told—by imperial propaganda—that everything is improving, that the world is better now, that peace has arrived. Paul says, "No." Creation was fallen then, and creation is still fallen now.

This creates a tension we need to wrestle with as Christians. On the one hand, we rightly want things to improve. We care about justice, goodness, and flourishing in society. But on the other hand, Scripture is clear that the world will not be fully set right until Christ returns. I'm not saying we give up on doing good. I am saying we cannot place our hope in progress here and now. If we do, we will settle—and we were never meant to settle for anything less than God's full redemption.

The Holy Spirit is the first-fruits, a foretaste of how good full redemption will be (23-24a).

Paul's point is that the Holy Spirit serves as our living evidence of what is to come. Though we are still fallen, we are indwelt by the very Spirit of God. That means we already get to taste the future. The term "first-fruits" reminds us that what we experience now is real—but partial. It is the beginning, not the end.

One of the clearest ways we experience these first-fruits is through what Paul describes elsewhere as the "fruit of the Spirit." In Galatians 5:22-23, Paul tells us that the Spirit produces love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control in the lives of believers. These are not merely moral improvements; they are signs of new creation breaking into the present. Every time you respond with love where there was once bitterness, experience peace in the middle of anxiety, or exercise self-control where sin once ruled, you are tasting the life of the age to come.

Here's a helpful exercise: think back to moments when the Spirit's work in you was unmistakable. A time when joy endured despite hardship, when peace replaced fear, when patience or gentleness showed up where it normally wouldn't have. Then remember this—those moments, as real and meaningful as they are, are only first-fruits. They are previews, not the full harvest. What God has begun in you now through His Spirit will one day be completed in full when redemption is finished.

But we cannot forget that we do not have the full experience yet (24b-25).

Paul reminds us that hope, by its very nature, is oriented toward what we do not yet possess. He says plainly that we do not hope for what we already see; hope exists precisely because something better is still coming.

This is where Hebrews 11:1 helps us understand what Paul means. There, faith is described as "the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." In other words, biblical hope is not wishful thinking or vague optimism. It is a settled confidence rooted in God's promises, even when the fulfillment remains unseen.

That means what we experience now—even the best of it—is only the beginning. The present work of the Spirit gives us real assurance, but not full possession. We live between promise and fulfillment, between first-fruits and final harvest.

Here is the key warning Paul presses on us: do not settle for the present as if it were the future. If you confuse first-fruits with fullness, you will shrink your hope and dull your longing. Biblical hope keeps us waiting—not passively, but confidently—anchored in what God has promised and assured, even though we have not yet seen it.

Image: Really good appetizers before a really good meal.

Think about a really good appetizer before a great meal. It actually does something a poor appetizer never can—it satisfies and increases anticipation at the same time. You enjoy it, but you don't confuse it with the main course. In fact, the better the appetizer is, the more it reminds you that something even better is on the way. In the same way, the Spirit's work in us now—peace in the middle of chaos, joy that doesn't make sense, love that overcomes bitterness—is genuinely good. But it is not the full meal. If we treat the appetizer as the destination, we will either be disappointed or settle for less than what God has promised. The Spirit's work now is meant to nourish us while we wait and to sharpen our hunger for the day when redemption is complete.

MTR: Where do you already see the Spirit's first-fruits at work in your life?

So here is the turn for us this week. Pay attention to where God is already at work in your life, but don't let gratitude turn into contentment with the incomplete. When you experience the fruit of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, patience, and the rest—receive them as gifts, but also as reminders that you are still waiting. Let those moments strengthen your faith rather than dull your longing. According to Hebrews 11:1, faith gives assurance of what we hope for, even when we cannot yet see it. So live this week with that assurance—thankful for the first-fruits, confident in God's promises, and unwilling to settle for anything less than the full redemption He has prepared.

Assurance — Our future is secure because God Himself is at work (26-30).

After all this talk about hope and future glory, you might be wondering, "But what about now?" I get that. The future is important—but the present matters too. The good news is that our future hope is grounded in God's present work. What God promises for then is already being supported by what He is doing now. This is not wishful thinking. This is active, ongoing grace.

First,

The Spirit intercedes for us, giving us relationship with the God of the universe even when we lack words (26-27).

Have you ever struggled to find the words? You know what you're feeling, you know something hurts deeply, but when you try to explain it—or even pray it—the words just won't come. You want to pour out your heart, but silence feels like all you have.

We've all been there. And here is the remarkable comfort Paul gives us: God is not only redeeming the world in the future—He is present with us now, attentive to our weakness. He cares so deeply that He has provided a way for communication even when words fail.

The phrase "in the same way" (καὶ οὖν) connects our present waiting with the Spirit's present work. As we wait in weakness, the Spirit works within us. The Spirit helps us—literally takes hold with us—and intercedes on our behalf. The very Spirit of God brings our needs before the Father.

When our words are not enough, God supplies what is sufficient. Even more than that, the Spirit intercedes for us in perfect alignment with God's will. Verse 27 paints a profound picture: the Spirit knows us completely, and the Spirit knows God perfectly. He does not ask merely for what we think we need, but for what we truly need.

I've worked with translators before, and true translation is only possible when someone has mastery of both languages. Paul reminds us that the Spirit has complete mastery of both—our hearts and God's purposes. Even in our present brokenness, we are not alone. But Paul doesn't stop there.

Those who are in Christ have assurance of ultimate redemption (28).

Verse 28 begins with the conjunction δὲ, tying it directly to everything that has come before. In light of the Spirit's work, Paul now assures us that God is actively and intentionally working in all things.

You might expect this verse to carry a long explanation, but in many ways, it doesn't need one. If you've understood what Paul has already said, this verse follows naturally. God is at work—and He can be trusted.

This does not mean that losing a job will result in a better one, or that a painful injury will lead to earthly success. Paul is not promising circumstantial outcomes. He is promising redemptive purpose. God is working toward an end, and that end is worth it.

That perspective prepares us for what Paul says next.

Salvation is not fragile—God will bring His own to Perfective Sanctification (29-30).

An enormous amount of ink has been spilled over Romans 8:29-30, and many people will try to force you into one theological camp or another. Predestination or Arminianism. Choose a side.

But Paul's goal here is not to win a philosophical debate. His goal is to give believers assurance.

Paul tells us that God foreknew, predestined, called, justified, and glorified. What he does not say is that God forces some to believe and others not to believe. He also does not say that God is hands-off or indifferent to human response.

What Paul is saying is this: if you are in Christ, your salvation is secure. It is not fragile. God will bring you to the future glory He has promised.

Significantly, Paul uses the aorist tense—even for "glorified"—to emphasize certainty. It is not yet completed in time, but it is as good as done in God's purpose. God finishes what He starts.

This is the same confidence Paul expresses in Philippians 1:6: "He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus."

Some of you may be disappointed that I'm not taking a hard stand for or against Calvinism, so let me go ahead and take a stand. I know that God holds us responsible, and I know that God is completely sovereign. I know that God is just, and I know that God is loving. How all of that fits together, I don't fully understand—and I'm okay with that. So that is my stand; I don't understand how it all fits together, but I fully trust God.

What I do know is this: my salvation is secure. He who began a work in me will be faithful to bring it to completion.

MTR: Live in the tension: work faithfully for your King while resting confidently in His grace.

So here is the turn for us. Because God Himself is at work—praying for us by His Spirit, guiding all things according to His purpose, and securing our future glory—we are freed to live faithfully in the present without fear. This week, do your work, love others, fight sin, and pursue holiness with seriousness and effort, but do not carry the weight of proving yourself to God. Your obedience is not what secures your future—God already has. At the same time, do not confuse grace with passivity. Rest confidently in what Christ has done, while actively serving Him with your whole life. Hold both together: diligent faithfulness and deep trust, knowing that the same God who called you is faithfully bringing His work in you to completion.

Closing Thought

God does not waste suffering, rush redemption, or abandon His people. What feels broken now is being shaped for glory—and the same God who began this work will bring it to completion.