More Than Conquerors: A Sermon for Easter Sunday. Romans 8:31-35, 37-39. 03/31/24
More Than Conquerors (A Sermon for Easter Sunday)
Romans 8:31-35, 37-39
Rev. Dr. Rhonda Blevins
March 31, 2024
What then are we to say about these things? If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not
withhold his own Son but gave him up for all of us, how will he not with him also give us
everything else? Who will bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is
to condemn? It is Christ who died, or rather, who was raised, who is also at the right hand of
God, who also intercedes for us. Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will affliction or
distress or persecution or famine or nakedness or peril or sword?
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am
convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to
come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to
separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
The news this week has been all about the collapse of the Francis Scott Key Bridge in Baltimore on Tuesday, the tragic loss of life because of it, and the disruptions to the supply chain as a major U.S. port is inaccessible. A lot of comparisons have been made between the collapse of the Baltimore bridge and the Sunshine Skyway Bridge collapse in 1980 here in Pinellas County. Of course, the Skyway was rebuilt and is now the tallest bridge in Florida with a vertical clearance of 190 feet above Tampa Bay—its towers standing at a whopping 430 feet tall. I’ve got an interesting story about the Skyway Bridge.
A few years ago I participated in a 10k on the bridge. Not being much of an athlete I was one of the stragglers near the end of the pack. But being at the end of the pack, I was at the pinnacle of the bridge when I saw this fellow who looked like he was ready to jump off. So I
decided I’d try to stall him until the authorities showed up. I gently approached him and said,
“Don’t jump!”
“Why not?” he said. “Nobody loves me.”
“God loves you,” I said. “You believe in God, don’t you?”
“Yes, I believe in God,” he said.
“Good,” I said. “Are you Christian, Jewish, or Muslim?”
“Christian,” he said.
“Me, too!” I said. “Protestant, Catholic, or Orthodox Christian?”
“Protestant Christian,” he said.
“Me, too!” I said. “Mainline Protestant Christian or Evangelical Protestant Christian?”
“Mainline Protestant Christian,” he said.
“Me, too!” I said. “Presbyterian, Lutheran, Methodist, Episcopalian or not denominational
Mainline Protestant Christian?
“Not denominational Mainline Protestant Christian,” he said.
“Me, too!” I said. “Nondenominational, interdenominational, or postdenominational Mainline
Protestant Christian?”
“Interdenominational Mainline Protestant Christian,” he said.
“Me, too!” I said. “International Council of Community Churches Interdenominational Mainline
Protestant Christian or not International Council of Community Churches
Interdenominational Mainline Protestant Christian?”
“International Council of Community Churches Interdenominational Mainline Protestant
Christian,” he said.
“Me, too!” I said. “Against Women in Ministry International Council of Community Churches
Interdenominational Mainline Protestant Christian or for Women in Ministry International
Council of Community Churches Interdenominational Mainline Protestant Christian?”
“Against Women in Ministry International Council of Community Churches
Interdenominational Mainline Protestant Christian,” he said.
“Auugghh!!! You heretic!” I said. And I pushed him over.
It’s a joke! Perhaps the most unbelievable part of the joke is that I participated in a 10k.
I’ve used this joke before as it is the best way I know of to communicate the ridiculousness of religious division. We love our silly, little quarrels in the Christian faith! There’s only one problem with our love of division: it’s completely antithetical to the Gospel!
As we consider the final events of Holy Week, Jesus celebrated the Passover meal with his disciples in an upper room. There in the upper room, he washed his disciples’ feet. He compared the bread they shared to his body, broken for all people. He compared the wine they shared as his blood, spilled for all people. The Gospel of John records a lengthy teaching—Jesus’ last before his crucifixion. Before Jesus and the disciples left the upper room to go to the Mount of Olives (where he would be arrested), he offered a final vocal prayer, also recorded in John. There is a distinct theme in his final vocal prayer—something Jesus repeats four times in this one prayer. What is so important to Jesus that he repeats it four times in his final vocal prayer? He prays that his disciples “might be one.” (John 17) And yet, it’s hard to imagine how the Christian faith could be any more divided than it is. This must make God incredibly sad.
But I’ve got some good news for you today! Write this down, because at Chapel by the Sea on Easter Sunday in the good year of our Lord 2024, Pastor Rhonda Blevins reveals the antidote to Christian division. Here it is . . . are you ready for this revelation?
ELIMINATE FEAR.
Let me explain.
When Jesus died, in one of the most cruel and horrific ways a human can die, and when he rose again on that first Easter Sunday, conquering death not just for himself but for all humanity—part of what Jesus did for us is that he completely conquered fear. Because the root of all fears—underneath the fear of heights or fear of spiders or fear of snakes or fear of public speaking—underneath all fears is the fear of death. The fear of annihilation. On that first Easter Sunday, when Jesus rose from the dead, he conquered death! And in so doing, Jesus completely conquered fear as well!
This is good news!
And yet nearly two millennia later, it’s like we didn’t get the memo. Sadly, most people still live in fear.
I want you to think about something—I want you to think deeply about this even after you leave church today—when we live in fear, especially when we live in fear of God, we reject the resurrection of Christ. When we allow ourselves to live in fear, we snub what Jesus did on the cross. When we choose to live in fear, it’s like we’re saying to Jesus, “What you did on the cross, it’s not good enough, Jesus. Your death and resurrection are impotent against the fear I choose to embrace today.”
Ouch.
Here’s something else I want you to think about. It’s fear that creates division—all division. And when it comes to religious division—the kind we poked a little fun at—I believe it’s a particular kind of fear that creates religious division. It’s a fear of God that creates religious division.
For centuries, many, perhaps most people who believe in God have this idea that God accepts some people and rejects other people. The ancient Hebrews thought God accepted them and rejected all other humans. Today many Christian people think that God accepts Christians and rejects all other humans. A lot of Christians think you must be a certain kind of Christian—maybe a Pro Women in Ministry International Council of Community Churches Interdenominational Mainline Protestant Christian—for instance.
Author Anne Lamott wrote, “You can safely assume you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.”
And so we divide. And divide. And divide again.
Think about the word “Denomination” (as in “Christian Denomination”). In math, what is it called when you split up a number into various smaller numbers? Denomination! “Denomination” means a split or division. Did you know there are over 45,000 Christian denominations worldwide?
We like to think, “God approves of our beliefs. God does not approve of your beliefs. Sorry ‘bout your luck!’” We imagine that people who don’t think like us or believe like us will end up with a smaller mansion in heaven, or worse, end up outside heaven altogether. Perhaps we go so far as to HOPE that this is the case!
If that’s you, I’ve got some bad news for you this Easter: not everybody in heaven is going to look like us, think like us, or believe like us. How do I know this? Part of how I know this is through reading the book of Romans.
Romans is a letter written by the Apostle Paul to a divided church in Rome. The church in Rome, at its founding, was comprised of both Jewish and Gentile Christians. But in the early history of the church, the Emperor Claudius expelled all Jews from Rome. So the church at Rome, during that time, was exclusively comprised of Gentile Christians. But about five years later, Jews were allowed back into Rome, including the Jesus-following Jews. Upon their return, the Jewish Christians didn’t like what the Gentile Christians were doing. So there was a rift in the church. Paul, then, in his letter to the church at Rome (which we now call the Book of Romans), was writing in an attempt to unify the Jewish and Gentile Christians in Rome. A few moments ago, we read together one of the most compelling parts of his argument for unity.
Paul wants to convince his Roman readers that since absolutely nothing can separate us from the love of God, then we should not separate ourselves, one from another. Let’s read this again:
Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will affliction or distress or persecution or
famine or nakedness or peril or sword? No, in all these things we are more than conquerors
through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor
rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything
else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
What can separate us from the love of God? NOTHING! Paul is using the biggest language available to him—now we have the word “spacetime” thanks to Hermann Minkowski and his student, Albert Einstein. Nothing in “spacetime” will be able to separate us from the love of God. One more time for the people in the balcony. What can separate us from the love of God? NOTHING!
If NOTHING can separate us from the love of God, then why do we separate ourselves from one another? (I’ve already answered this question for you.)
Fear.
Famous psychologist Elizabeth Kubler Ross once wrote this:
There are only two emotions: love and fear. All positive emotions come from love, all negative emotions from fear. From love flows happiness, contentment, peace, and joy. From fear comes anger, hate, anxiety and guilt. It’s true that there are only two primary emotions, love and fear. But it’s more accurate to say that there is only love or fear, for we cannot feel these two emotions together, at exactly the same time. They’re opposites. If we’re in fear, we are not in a place of love. When we’re in a place of love, we cannot be in a place of fear.
Now extrapolating from Dr. Kubler Ross’s statement:
There are only two types of religion: love-based or fear-based.
There are only two types of “Christianities”: love-based or fear-based.
How do I know this? I’ve been deeply involved in both forms of Christianity.
When you’re involved in fear-based religion, you don’t recognize it as such. Sure, you talk about love, but don’t fully experience it. You know when you’re involved in a fear-based religion when much of the conversation is about who’s “in” and who’s “out”—who’s going to heaven and who’s going to that other place. You know when you’re involved in a fearbased religion when you’re scared of God—of what God thinks of you—of what God might do to you—of where God might send you or your loved ones if they don’t think or behave a certain way.
This form of Christianity is where many of us begin, but it’s tragic. It causes so much unnecessary fear and angst. It’s part of why so many people have what’s now being called “Religious Trauma.”
I was ingratiated in this type of thinking years ago when my father died—I wasn’t sure that he was a Christian—I was desperately concerned about his eternal destiny.
Then somewhere along the way I actually started to believe the Bible—specifically Paul’s words to the Romans:
Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor
powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us
from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
One more time for the people worshipping via YouTube. What can separate us from the love of God? NOTHING!
Until this truth seeps into our bones—until it takes up residence in the deepest part of our knowing—we might very well be living in fear without even knowing it.
And when we live in fear, there is no power in the cross. There is no power in the resurrection. There is no power in Gospel of Jesus, the Christ. There is no power in the Easter story.
So one more time for the people worshipping via Facebook. What can separate us from the love of God? NOTHING!
Until this truth seeps into our bones—until it takes up residence in the deepest part of our knowing—we are always going to be trying to figure out who’s in and who’s out. And guess what? I’m in. You’re out. Every. Single. Time.
If, however, we allow the truth of Paul’s words to sink in . . . to truly become a part of us . . . to become central to our theology (the way we think about God) . . . it changes everything!
Instead of who’s in and who’s out, we begin the realize that the power of the cross and the truth of the resurrection isn’t just for people who look like us and act like us and smell like us . . .
What can separate us from the love of God? NOTHING!
And if it’s true for me, then it’s true for you!
And if it’s true for us, then it’s true for “those people” too!
That’s the power of the cross!
This Easter Sunday, I challenge you—no, I implore you—let go of your fear. All of it. Every morsel. There’s an empty tomb where you can stash it, seal it, and forget it. Why let go of fear? So that you might fully know the power of the love of God through Christ Jesus our Lord.
Perhaps the most memorized Bible verse is John 3:16. If you know it, say it along with me:
For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever
believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.
That’s beautiful! It’s tragic, however, that we usually leave out the next verse:
For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world;
but that the world through him might be saved.
I don’t know what you gave up for Lent this year, if anything. But one thing I challenge you to give up for Easter: give up your fear. And in so doing, know that you are more than conquerors through Christ who loves us through spacetime. Period.
One more time for the person you see every day in the mirror. What can separate us from the love of God? NOTHING!
Now go and live that truth, and give real meaning to that which we proclaim:
Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed!