Paul fills the courtroom with questions, but the Christian ultimately answers none of them. God answers them all.
This portion of Romans 8 shows up in the regular rotation of Sundays in the Three-Year Lectionary only this once every three years. But if you are from a tradition that is at all like mine and have been preaching awhile, you no doubt have already treated this text homiletically at least a handful of times. It is the standard epistle lesson for funeral services, and even if it were not, it would be a tempting free text on such an occasion. This is because the promises are so beautiful, so climactic, and so solid. Nothing can separate us. What a fitting bookend to a chapter that began with “no condemnation.” It is a profound climax to the first half of Paul’s letter to the Romans.
There are a million sermons to be preached on this pericope’s individual verses, not to mention the passage as a whole. Outlines often break up the thought sense of the chapter between verses 30-31, but the Pericope Committee has wrapped 8:28-30 in with the God for us conclusion as well. This enriches the reading but presents a challenge to the preacher who would want to give ample time to unpacking the rich promises there as well.
This week, I offer you just one of the many salutary paths through this pericope to frame your pulpit time. It is one that notices Paul’s rhetorical device of the question and answer, evocative of courtroom drama with the defendant in the dock and accusers coming at him from all sides. I will play with that device and that image this week in crafting a sermon to deliver the promises Paul is conveying to his first-century readers and to us today.
I am going to focus on Romans 8:31-39. Notice how Paul structures this magnificent crescendo almost entirely with questions. You can riff on this through the scriptures. For example, the first question in the scriptures came from the mouth of the serpent and it was in service of temptation. The questions posed at the end of Romans 8 address accusations too. Observe how relentless they become: “If God be for us, who can be against us?” “Who will bring any charge against God’s elect?” “Who is the one who condemns?” “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?” These are not genuine inquiries, waiting for information. They are rhetorical questions, and the appropriate query when faced with one is not, “What is the answer,” but rather, “What is meant to be persuaded here?” The answer, of course, being that God the judge is justifying! But notice that they are also courtroom questions, inviting you to preach forensic justification without ever uttering the phrase forensic justification! The verdict has already been reached before the trial even begins.
Indeed, the whole scene reads like a great cosmic prosecution. Imagine the defendant standing in the dock while every conceivable accuser is invited to make his case. The Judge asks the first question: “Who can be against us?” The courtroom falls silent. Then another invitation: “Who will bring any charge?” Surely, now someone will step forward. After all, the evidence of sin seems overwhelming. Satan’s very name means Accuser (see Revelation 12:10). Our own consciences often volunteer for the prosecution. The Law itself exposes every hidden thought and every public failure. Certainly, there are enough charges to fill the room.
But before anyone can speak, the Judge Himself renders the decisive verdict: “It is God who justifies.” With this statement, the trial is effectively over. The prosecution, nevertheless, refuses to quit. Another witness is summoned. “Who is there to condemn?” This time Paul does not just answer the objection. He points to the crucified and risen Christ, and every verb belongs to Jesus. Christ Jesus died. More than that, He was raised. More than that, He is at the right hand of God. More than that, He is interceding for us. Jesus alone possesses every right to condemn, but, instead, He exhausts His judgment upon Himself. Jesus, whose testimony alone matters, now speaks; not against us, but for us. Jesus’ scars are there because I put them there. You put them there. But those scars are now the evidence, not of our guilt, but of our acquittal.
But before anyone can speak, the Judge Himself renders the decisive verdict: “It is God who justifies.” With this statement, the trial is effectively over.
Pause on this, preacher. Romans 8:31-39 is not some pie-in-the-sky text. No Pollyanna here. It is not vague but specific, not general but very much in your face: God-for-you. It is comfort and certainty for Paul, his hearers, and your hearers too; comfort and certainty which rests on historical events. Christ really died. Christ really rose. Christ really ascended. Christ really intercedes. This happened and happens in real time and space. It is profoundly objective stuff. The verdict of justification is not actually on the record because we finally feel forgiven. It rests on the accomplished work of the crucified and risen Lord Jesus, who even now continues His priestly ministry for His people.
The courtroom analogy, like all analogies, does wear out after a bit. Paul extends it and, in doing so, wears thin the walls of the courtroom itself, and it seems all of fallen creation is involved with the trial, not just the dictates of the Law. The prosecutor, having exhausted every legal argument, now calls creation itself to the witness stand. Can tribulation separate God’s people? No. How about distress? Nope. Persecution? Nuh uh. Famine? Not a bit. Nakedness? Never. Danger? Not at all. Sword? You got anything better than that? Each one is summoned only to be dismissed.
Still unwilling to concede, the prosecution widens its search. If suffering cannot prevail, perhaps the great powers of the universe can. Death enters the courtroom. Life follows. Angels, rulers, powers, the present, the future, height, depth, every imaginable force is called to testify against those whom God has justified. And once again, one by one, every witness fails. Eventually, there is no one left to call. The prosecution rests, not because it has proved its case, but because it has exhausted the universe itself.
Paul’s moves here can offer some solid shape to your own sermon. Romans 8:35-39 is, indeed, a great catalogue of comfort, and you can offer these verses as a comforting list of bad things that cannot hurt us spiritually. But Paul is doing so much more here than that, and so can your sermon. The apostle is systematically stripping every enemy of its authority. Every force that appears capable of undoing God’s saving work is summoned into the courtroom and compelled to confess its impotence before the verdict already rendered in Christ.
Every force that appears capable of undoing God’s saving work is summoned into the courtroom and compelled to confess its impotence before the verdict already rendered in Christ.
The “all things work for good” of Romans 8:28 is one of those refrigerator magnet verses, one that can take on an out-of-context life of its own. It is also one that bears correcting if it is demoted in service of prosperity gospel, vague optimism, or a predestination lecture. Notice, much to the contrary, how in context Romans 8:28-30 prepares for the courtroom conclusion. These verses are the foundation beneath the entire scene. Once again, the verbs tell the story. God works. God foreknew. God predestined. God called. God justified. God glorified. Then Christ died. Christ was raised. Christ intercedes. The believer contributes almost no verbs at all. Everything depends on the relentless saving activity of the triune God.
Carry that above all else into the pulpit with you this week. Do not deliver a faith sermon with a faith goal by talking about faith. Faith never talks about itself. It talks about what has been given. So, also with this Romans 8 pericope. It is not about the strength of faith. It is about the strength of God’s action. The apostle has spent half of a long letter delivering the goods about the God who has acted from eternity to eternity on behalf of His people. The God who foreknew will not suddenly forget. The God who predestined will not abandon His purpose. The God who called will not revoke His invitation. The God who justified will not reopen the case. The God who has already spoken of our glorification, in the now and the not yet, will certainly finish what He has begun.
Keeping this in mind maintains Christ firmly at the center of the sermon. Every question ultimately receives the same answer. It is not an abstract doctrine, but a person and His work: The person and work of Christ. Why can no charge stand? Because Christ died. Why is there no condemnation? Because Christ lives. Why can nothing separate us? Because Christ continually intercedes. Paul’s confidence is not rooted in a theological system but in the living Lord whose saving work stretches from Calvary to the Father’s right hand. And now, it even stretches into the ears of His people through the proclamation of this Gospel.
That, in the end, is one last rhetorical surprise of the passage. Paul fills the courtroom with questions, but the Christian ultimately answers none of them. God answers them all. He answered them on Good Friday when Jesus cried, “It is finished.” He answered them again on Easter morning when the tomb stood empty. He still answers them every time the Gospel announces the verdict that cannot be overturned: “It is God who justifies” (Romans 8:33). The courtroom is empty now. The witnesses have been dismissed. The accusations have been silenced. The verdict stands forever. The only voice still speaking is the voice of the risen Christ, and He speaks not condemnation but life.
Additional Resources:
Craft of Preaching-Check out 1517’s resources on Romans 8:28-39.
Concordia Theology-Various helps from Concordia Seminary in St. Louis, MO to assist you preaching Romans 8:28-39.
Lectionary Kick-Start-Check out this fantastic podcast from Craft of Preaching authors Peter Nafzger and David Schmitt as they dig into the texts for this Sunday!
The Pastor’s Workshop-Check out all the great preaching resources from our friends at the Pastor’s Workshop!
