Proclaiming the Word: The Great Chain of Preaching (Romans 10:5-17)
One of the things that differentiates preaching from other forms of speech is that the preacher often has to say, "I don't fully understand what I am about to say to you." You will never hear a lawyer or a politician or a professor say that. But preachers think it often and occasionally confess it. This is nowhere truer than with
Romans chapters 9 to 11, which is Paul's extended agony over his fellow Jews.
If there is any comfort for the preacher, it's that Paul doesn't really understand what he is saying either, which is why, I suggest, that this entire section is framed by doxology.
Chapter 9 begins with a doxology on Israel: "They are Israelites and to them belong the sonship, the glory, the covenant, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises; to them belong the patriarchs and of their race according to the flesh is the Christ. God who is over all be blessed forever."
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Chapter 11 concludes, "O the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God. How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways."
Romans 9-
11 is not a logical treatise but an unfinished narrative, the clue to whose resolution lies only in the character of God, to whom be glory forever and ever.
The story of God's promise begins, as you know, in failure and shame. It is something like this: Each morning in the bankruptcy court in the Durham County courthouse they have a charming way of opening court. The bailiff enters and surveys a room filled with ruined lives and cries out, "All debtors rise." And whether you are the CEO of a failed corporation or a poor person who can't pay your bills, you acknowledge your true station in life and rise to your feet. "All debtors rise." In the Book of Romans this is God's word to those who stand outside the covenant and to those within; it is God's call to those who feel they don't need revealed religion and to those who believe that they are its custodians. Debtors all.
Saul fit the latter category. He believed that if he could be an observant enough Jew when the bailiff gave the command he would not have to rise. He could sit on his pew. That is a delusion to which religious professionals are especially vulnerable. If we know enough about the Bible, undergo the normative experiences, and perform according to expectations, when the call goes out, we can keep our seat. We think we are safe and saved. This is the righteousness of the law. It is not only at home in religion but it has metastasized into all spheres of human endeavor. No realm of our life is free of it. But practice it as we do, we are not saved. Instead, each of us comes to a point of self-realization and longing for another kind of righteousness. I want to live out my life in the presence of God and before you, my brothers and sisters, in a different mode altogether.