Too Deep for Words
a sermon based on Romans 8:26-39
by Rev. Randy L. Quinn

Some things in life cannot be explained in words. They need to be experienced. They need to be seen. They need to be felt.

Any attempt to explain these events, these concepts, is pale by comparison with the actual experiences themselves.

Have you ever sat up all night and looked at the stars? (I know you couldn't do that this week, not only was it too wet, but you couldn't see the stars for the clouds.) Perhaps you have gone outside to look at the night sky with wonder -- but have you ever spent the entire night watching the stars as they moved across the sky?

Until you have, you cannot understand the majesty and the beauty and the wonder of it all. It is like a ballet dance in which every character has performed their part with perfection.

Have you ever got up early to watch the sunrise? I mean from the total darkness, through dawn, and into the brightness of day? Maybe you have seen parts of it. Perhaps accidentally. But have you ever intentionally watched the whole dramatic unfolding of a new day?

Until you have, you cannot fully understand what it is like. I could try to explain it, but mere words would never suffice.

While I was in seminary, I had a professor who preached for one of our Advent Chapel services. In his sermon, I was profoundly moved by his ideas and decided to experience his image first hand. He had suggested that the world has been in darkness and is heading toward the day. He suggested that we are often confused by the darkness because we act as if it is already day rather than the early dawn of a new day.

So I spent a night watching the stars and witnessing the sunrise. I saw how the stars all seemed to be moving in rhythm and preparing themselves for the arrival of the new day as they allowed the brightness of the sun to fade their glory.

Then, suddenly, I realized that the stars were gone, that it was daylight. What had felt the coldest part of the night was actually the withdrawal of the night which made room for the day.

My experiences that night cannot be translated into words. I have come across some poetry that comes close, but nothing quite captures what I experienced that night.

Perhaps you can remember events in your lives that have a similar impact upon you.

A particular sunset.

A sound in the wind that captured your attention.

The rhythmic splashing of the waves upon the beach.

The birth of a child.

The smell of gramma's kitchen.

Your wedding day.

Your first kiss.

Some things just cannot be explained with words. They can be remembered, they can be felt, they can be seen. But they cannot be explained.

So here is Paul, trying to find words to describe the love of God. If there is anything that cannot be fully explained, it is God's grace, God's love, God's acceptance of us. Paul is making one of the earliest attempts at explaining it; and preachers, teachers, and writers have joined his effort for centuries. But try as we might, there really are no words that can capture it fully.

Paul, himself, acknowledges that it is too deep for words. (v 26) Only God can reveal it to us. And God does that through the life and story of Jesus, through the history and tradition of the church through the ages, and through the lives and experiences of the saints who have gone before and alongside of us.

It is the Spirit that reveals these truths to us as we are able to comprehend them. Bit by bit, little by little, until we are caught up in the grandeur of it all and celebrate this love and grace in poetry, in song, and in living life.

The bottom line for Paul is that nothing can separate us from this love. Nothing at all. Nothing that God has created, nor anything that we can imagine -- real or unreal.

Not even ourselves.

We have all known people, ourselves included at times, who take great pain to separate themselves from God. They are the ones who avoid church because they are afraid they will be changed by it. (Sometimes we don't want to hear what is spoken here, do we?) They are the ones who put up a gruff exterior to keep other people out who may bring love into their hearts. (And we do that at times, too, don't we?) They are the ones who seem to intentionally work against God and the coming age. (And I know that all too often I am guilty of that as well.)

But Paul says, almost with amazement in his voice, that we cannot be separated from God's love.
Even when our actions bring us in direct opposition with God, God is willing to work with us and bring good out of it.

Paul knew this first hand. He had, in fact, worked very hard to eradicate the Christians from the earth. He was known for his resourcefulness and resolution to destroy the people who called themselves by the name of Jesus.

But God was able to use Paul. God was able to transform him and bring his gifts to bear on a new goal. His determination, his resolve, his tenacity were used by God to promote the kingdom of God and the work of the church.

Some have suggested that without Paul, there would be no church today. Jesus may be the focus of the church's life and faith, but Paul is the one who made it move and grow.

(Certainly God's spirit used Paul to make a significant difference, even if we do not fully agree with those who suggest that he is as important as Jesus.)

Paul is not suggesting here that we no longer need to be accountable for our actions since God will work with whatever we offer. Paul is not inviting us to a fatalistic approach to the world and to history -- though some have taken that response.

Some people say that since God is going to make good happen no matter what I do (v 28), I can do whatever I want. It just doesn't matter.

If a new day is dawning, I cannot turn the sun back, so it doesn't matter how I respond to the sunrise. I can sleep in. I can ignore its heat. I can close my eyes to the light about me.

Paul says, no. Paul says that when we allow ourselves to see the light of day that we experience the warmth of God's love. Paul says that when we awaken to the kingdom of God around us that we experience God's grace and nothing else can change it.

And when tragedy strikes, whether inflicted by other persons, by ourselves, or by forces of nature, Paul says simply, "offer your life in the midst of it and allow God's grace to shine through the darkness of the moment."

Easier said than done, perhaps.

I suspect that this would be a difficult passage to preach in churches in Iowa today. Tragedy has taken away homes and separated families. Floods have taken away this year's crops and brought with it additional expenses of clean up.

What good can come of it?

To those who offer their lives to God's care and allow God's grace to shine in their lives, they begin to see the sun breaking through the clouds and begin to live with hope for the future.

They begin to understand that God has not left them but that God is suffering alongside of them. For them there is hope offered in these words, hope that transcends despair.

Paul speaks from the experience of having been imprisoned. He speaks as one who has been literally thrown out of town. He speaks as one who has been shipwrecked. He speaks as one who has seen tragedy in its many forms.

He knows better than any of us that God's love transcends all that life can offer us.

In yesterday's paper there was an article about "Baby Hope," a toddler who was found dead a few years ago. There are no suspects in the case, though it is clear that this is a child who was the victim of a hideous crime. She has been referred to as "Baby Hope" by the police officers working on her case, by the media, and by those who gathered for her funeral this week.

In the midst of her tragic death, people were looking for hope, a hope that can best be found in the life and story and love of Jesus Christ.

There was also an article about April Tyree, a young woman who died from the effects of leukemia this week. Her story was told as a message of hope and promise in the knowledge and love of God that both she and her family have experienced during her struggle with disease.

Their hopeful and optimistic response to her death comes from an understanding that God did not abandon her during these difficult months but rather stood with her, giving her the courage to face death with confidence.

Paul is aware that this cannot be fully put into words. It is too deep for words. But that does not change his assurance. It does not change his sense of hope and promise. It does not change the fact that the world is heading from the darkness into the daylight. And he wants us all to be ready when the heat of day arrives and we find ourselves face to face with the God who created us, who loved us despite our sin in its variety of forms, and who has redeemed us.

Yes, we are more than conquerors. We are God's own people who have been chosen and loved and called to serve. Let us live as a redeemed and loved people. Let us spread the news of this love that is too deep for words so that all people everywhere may join us in celebrating the good that God has done in and through Jesus Christ.

Amen.