Sermon Tone Analysis

I’m curious about something as we prepare today to dig into our text: How many of you already have your Christmas tree up and decorated?

How many of you will have your decorations up by next Sunday?

I’m not sure we’ll have everything decorated, but I’ve promised Annette that I’ll bring out all the boxes and set up the Christmas trees before I go to work on Friday.

Pray for me.

As we continue our series on the 13 Imperatives of the Church as described by the Apostle Paul in Romans, chapter 12, I’m struck by the Christmasy words we’ll look at today: rejoice and hope.

Let’s read the passage together:

You’ll recall that “let love be without hypocrisy” is kind of the umbrella command here and that the other 12 are kind of manifestations of it.

We hate what is evil, because genuine love means we want the best for others.

And as we recognize and abhor the evil that remains in us, even as followers of Christ, we recognize that the most effective way to turn from evil is to cling to what is good as if life itself depends upon doin so.

We show that genuine love to which Paul calls us by devoting ourselves to one another as we would to our own flesh-and-blood families.

We show it by submitting ourselves to one another to the degree that we give greater honor to one another than to ourselves.

We prove the genuineness of our love for others by the diligence and fervency we bring to that love.

And we show the genuineness of the love we have for Jesus by submitting to Him as our Lord, as the master who bought us with His very blood, shed on Calvary’s cross.

Today, we’re going to look at those Christmasy words in the next phrase: rejoice and hope.

Now, we all know that the life of a Christian should be characterized by joy and hope.

We know intellectually that these two qualities should be evident within us at all times.

But let me ask you something.

When is the last time you truly rejoiced in hope?

Let me tell you about one of the times recently when that’s exactly what I did.

It was while we were on vacation.

I had gone out on a dive boat with the other two couples who had joined us.

We were headed out with a large group to go snorkeling in the open water of the Indian Ocean.

We hoped to see manta rays up close, as this is one of the best places in the world to do so.

I had spent some time snorkeling in the lagoon near our bungalow the previous days, and I had my camera rigged for underwater photography.

I was ready to capture what I hoped would be the photos of a lifetime.

We had all been given life jackets, but when the boat arrived at its destination and we had seen three manta rays swimming about 50 yards off the stern, I saw some folks take off their life jackets and jump in.

Wanting to be sure that I could dive down a few feet and get better photos, I did the same, and then I jumped into the water.

What was immediately clear to me was that snorkeling in the open ocean was VERY different from doing so in the reef-protected lagoon of our resort.

The water was choppy, the waves were high, and the current was unbelievably strong.

Very quickly, I realized that, no matter how hard I swam, I could barely hold my position.

And as I looked back, I could see the boat receding away from me.

I kicked and kicked with my fins, swimming with one hand as I clutched the camera rig with the other, and about every 15 seconds, I had to stop and clear my snorkel.

Pretty soon, my heart was pounding so hard from all the exertion that I was sure I was on the verge of a heart attack.

I felt as if I’d run up 20 flights of stairs, and I could feel my energy draining away.

I stopped to float for a moment and catch my breath, and my snorkel tube filled up with water.

And as I looked around, I realized that there was a very real possibility that I might drown in this little patch of a foreign ocean on the other side of the world from home.

Annette had stayed behind for this day trip, and I remember thinking as I tried once more to clear the seawater from my snorkel that I was glad she wasn’t there to see me die.

I was trying to calculate how much energy it would take to be able to swim back to the boat.

But all I knew for sure was that within the next five minutes, either I WOULD have that heart attack or I’d run completely out of energy and sink beneath the waves.

Or maybe both.

And then I saw the Indian divemaster who’d gone into the water with us.

He was swimming in my general direction with a life ring.

He’d already rescued one of our friends who had experienced her own problems after getting into the water, and he was taking her back toward the boat, which by now had started up and was heading their way to pick them up.

They were still 15 or 20 yards away from me, and he was intent on getting her back to the boat, so I don’t think he realized the level of distress I was in.

I couldn’t get the breath to call out to him, so I just started swimming toward them as hard as I could.

And when I was finally within 10 feet or so, I called out, “Can I grab on?”

My friend could see how dire my situation was, and so she told our divemaster, “He needs to grab the life ring,” and then she made space for me to do so.

And I will tell you that in those last 10 feet of swimming, as I reached out my hand for the life ring, I rejoiced with hope.

I’d been saved.

And in a few short minutes, I was back on the deck of the dive boat, thanking God and our divemaster for rescuing me.

Now, a brush with death like this should teach us something, and in a bit I will share with you the life lesson that I learned.

But for now, what I want you to imagine is the joy and thankfulness that this out-of-shape pastor felt when he realized he had been rescued from drowning.

When he finally knew that his friends would not have to return to the resort and tell Annette that her husband had died because he was an absolute idiot.

And I want you to keep that image in your mind as we look at the next in Paul’s series of commands for Christians and for the church, the command to rejoice in hope.

Now, some version of the word that’s translated as “rejoicing” here appears 71 times in the New Testament.

The first place we see it is in Matthew’s Gospel, where he writes that the wise men rejoiced when the star that led them to Bethlehem reappeared to them after they had met with King Herod.

Jesus used this word in a parable to describe how the shepherd responds after having left his 99 sheep and finding the one that was lost.

He also used it to describe the response of the father to the return of the prodigal son.

But I think one of the most interesting places we see this word in the New Testament is in John’s Gospel, where he describes some of the things Jesus told His disciples at the Last Supper.

Let’s look at a portion of John’s account, beginning in verse 16 of chapter 16.

Now, it’s clear from John’s account that the disciples didn’t understand that Jesus was telling them He would soon die.

In fact, that very night, He would be arrested and begin the series of trials that would end in His crucifixion the following day.

They didn’t understand that He was telling them He would rise from the dead.

And they surely didn’t understand that He was telling them He would ascend back into heaven, where He sits at the right hand of God even now, waiting for God’s command to return to earth in the clouds to take home with Him all who have followed Him in faith.

But that’s what He’s talking about here.

Jesus knew that He would go to the cross the next day, where He who was without sin would bear the sins of all mankind and suffer the just punishment for them in our place.

He knew that His Father would raise Him from the dead on the third day and that He would then ascend back to heaven 40 days later.

He knew that He would then wait there for God’s command to come back for all those from every time and place who had placed their faith in Him.

And He knew that there would be two different reactions to His death and to His eventual return from Heaven.

Note the contrast between our rejoicing and the rejoicing of the world in verse 20.

Some — especially the Pharisees who opposed Him — would rejoice over Jesus’ death and some would grieve.

But those who had grieved over His death will one day rejoice over His return.

The world rejoiced over the death of Jesus, but His disciples grieved.

And they were right to do so.

He in whom righteousness and peace had come together had been brought to a violent end by unrighteous people.

But then His followers rejoiced over His resurrection.

His righteousness had prevailed.

And He had brought peace between a holy God and all we unrighteous people who would put our faith in Him.

We, too, should rejoice in the resurrection of Jesus.

We should rejoice, in part, because it demonstrated that God has accepted His Son’s sacrifice as payment in full for the sins of those who follow Him in faith.

So, we rejoice in the resurrection of Christ, but, as Paul says in today’s passage, we also must rejoice in hope.

As you might expect, hope is another common word in the Bible.

Some form of this Greek word appears 82 times in the New Testament alone, including 13 times in the Book of Romans.

Today, I want to look at the first place this word appears in the Book of Romans.

As we do so, we’ll get a feel for what Paul means when he uses this word elsewhere in this letter, including in today’s passage.

Turn to Romans, chapter 4. We’ll pick up with verse 18, where Paul is talking about the faith of Abraham.

God had promised Abraham he would be the father of a nation.

Which meant that Abraham and Sarah would have to conceive a son.

But Abraham was 75 years old and Sarah was 65 when God made this promise.

And then 25 years passed without Sarah becoming pregnant.

And then God appeared to him again and reiterated the promise.

A man who was 100 years old would father a son with his 75-year-old, barren wife.

This was something impossible according to the natural way of things.

But Abraham had faith.

As Paul puts it in this passage, “In hope against hope he believed.”

Now, the hope that is portrayed in Scripture can be defined as looking forward to something in anticipation and with some reason for confidence that it will be fulfilled.

So what does Paul mean by this phrase “in hope against hope”?

Well, the hope that one might have for the birth of a child in natural ways was by now gone.

Both Abraham and Sarah were too old to have children, and she was barren, anyway.

But AGAINST that hope — in other words, contrary to that broken hope — Abraham had hope in God.