Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. (Rom. 8:26)

The epistle reading for Pentecost Sunday is a reminder that the Spirit’s activity was not limited to the halcyon days following the initial influx of Spirit-empowered boldness and speech. Evidence of the Spirit’s work continued throughout the book of Acts, and Paul often stressed the importance of believers looking to the Spirit as their primary connection to God.

            The lectionary text for the day begins at Rom. 8:22, smack in the middle of a ponderous thought Paul was seeking to convey in vv. 18-25. We will benefit from incorporating the larger pericope.

Suffering and glory

(vv. 18-22)

With v. 18, Paul enters a discourse on suffering and hope that takes its point of departure from the previous verse, where he had spoken of believers as joint heirs of Christ – “if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.”

            Suffering was par for the course in Paul’s life and in the lives of many early believers. Day to day existence could be hard. Conflict was common. Believers could be persecuted by government actors or by members of other faiths. The world seemed to be getting worse rather than better. [DD]

            Paul knew suffering, but he understood it as a prelude to something far better: “I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us” (v. 18). When suffering comes, we have options for dealing with it. One option is to let it control us, to get lost in it, and to spiral downward into an emotional abyss.

A better option is to look beyond present suffering to better days. In some cases, the timeline may be short: when suffering from the flu, recovery is usually a few days away. With broken bones, we may be back on our feet within weeks. Though it seems long, car payments or mortgage installments will be eventually paid in full, though years down the road.

Other conditions, however, may have no end in sight. Some diseases are not curable. Some relationships may never be healed. Some people remain bound in poverty. Even those situations are not without hope, however. The hardships of this life will one day give way to “the glory about to be revealed to us.”

That doesn’t mean we should give up on this life and think only of “pie in the sky by and by.” We don’t just accept a troubling status quo while singing “I’ll Fly Away” or “When We All Get to Heaven.” Thoughts of paradise and renewed family ties may bring comfort, but that’s not enough to get us through when the pain is visceral and the future uncertain. Days of trial must be dealt with: we find ways to push ahead and make the best of the life before us even as we hope for a better world to come.

            Sometimes it helps to remember that we are not the only ones facing hard times. Paul urged his readers to look beyond themselves and even beyond other people: humans are not alone in suffering, he said, for all of creation longs with the children of God for the fulfillment of the divine purpose (v. 19). That good purpose, Paul believed, had been thwarted or “subjected to futility” and left to decay in bondage, “groaning in labor pains until now” (vv. 20-22).

            Paul’s language, as expansive as it is cryptic, has puzzled many commentators. It’s likely that he was looking back to the tradition of “the fall” from Genesis 3. Paul’s fixation on the sin of Adam and Eve is interesting, because the Hebrew scriptures never mention Adam and Eve once we pass Genesis 4, except for Adam’s singular inclusion by name in a purported genealogy that introduces the work of the Chronicler (1 Chr. 1:1).

            Hebrew writers were unconcerned with stories of primordial sin: their focus was on whether Israel lived up to their covenant with God forged through Moses, whether they worshiped Yahweh alone and obeyed the law.

            Paul, however, based several aspects of his theology on Genesis 3, a story that claims the world’s first humans disobeyed God’s command to avoid eating from a tree that promised knowledge of good and evil. That act of defiance, according to the tradition, resulted in punishments on the woman, the man, and even the earth itself. “Cursed is the ground because of you,” God reportedly said (Gen. 3:17). No longer would it be as naturally fruitful as before: the man would have to labor to weed out thorns and thistles in order to raise needed food.

            Thus, Paul believed, the earth itself had suffered as a result of human sin. Speaking of creation as if it were a conscious entity, Paul imagined it yearning for release from the curse and a return to its original fecundity. That would happen, Paul believed, when God brought about the redemption of all things. [DD]

Hope and redemption

(vv. 23-27)

Believers, like the earth, can also look to a full redemption, Paul taught. They might “groan inwardly” due to present trials, but those who have tasted redemption through the “first fruits of the spirit” have the basis of hope for a better future (v. 23).

            Modern believes may no longer attribute the world’s state to primordial sin, but can any of us deny the detrimental effects of human arrogance on the earth? We’ve hunted animals to extinction, overfished the seas, and leveled rain forests crucial for global health. We have polluted both air and water. Rivers run with hazardous chemicals or toxic sludge, and the vast oceans themselves are littered with plastic detritus. As we lay waste to natural resources and exhaust fossil fuels, we flood the atmosphere with chemicals that promote undeniable climate change. Storms grow stronger. Ice shelves shrink and weaken. Ocean levels rise, and deserts grow.

            The earth may not be conscious, but it is groaning beneath us.

            We are also aware of how the systemic evil of human selfishness has contributed to human misery on every level. As we may grieve broken relationships or hurts in our personal or family lives, powerful economic systems guarantee more wealth for the wealthy while leaving lower income people to scramble for basic needs with little opportunity for improvement. Worldwide, countries exist where entire populations groan under the harsh rule of dictatorial regimes that rule with fear ruthlessly eliminate all who oppose them.

            All is not lost, however. We have the ability to make things better while we live, and we have the responsibility to work for justice, whether economic or ecological, in every way we can.

As we work toward that end, we share in hope for a day when God sets things right and heals all creation. “For in hope we were saved,” Paul said, looking toward a future we cannot yet see. Stating the obvious, he added “Hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen?” (v. 24).

            We don’t need to hope for something we already have or can see – but the ultimate redemption we long for is not yet. For this, we must wait with patience (v. 25).

            The power of hope should never be underestimated. Victor Frankl, a survivor of the Holocaust, often spoke of how some people in the German concentration camps of World War II simply gave up and died before they went to the gas chambers. Others held firm and survived. The difference, he said, was hope.

            In hope we were saved, and in hope we await what lies ahead. We cannot prove the reality of faith or the truth of the gospel. We cannot see it with our eyes, but we can hope in it. Belief, in essence, means acting upon the hope we have in Christ, patiently awaiting the day when we can see.

Prayer and the Spirit

(vv. 26-27)

Hope may come hard, but we do not hope alone. God has hopes for us, too. Paul had referenced the “first fruits of the Spirit” in v. 23, and in vv. 26-27 he returned to the theme. We exercise hope through prayer, even when we don’t know how to pray or for what we should pray, trusting that the Spirit “intercedes with sighs too deep for words.” Through the Spirit, God knows our darkest thoughts and our highest hopes, our deepest pain and our best abilities.

            Many of us, at some time, have probably experienced heartache or confusion or fears that we could not express in cogent thoughts. Even for the Spirit, Paul implies, some things are beyond words – but not beyond intercession and hope.

We often pray for others, and we ask others to pray for us. If it comforts us to know that friends are interceding on our behalf, how much more should it mean to know that the Spirit speaks up for us?

When we read this text on Pentecost Sunday, we recall how the Spirit was manifested in Acts 2 and Acts 10, inspiring both Jewish and Gentile believers to speak in tongues they hadn’t previously known. We recall how Paul elaborated various gifts of the Spirit that empower us to serve in a variety of ways, making the body whole (1 Cor. 12:4-11, Rom. 12:4-8, Eph. 4:11-16).

Too often, we do not lack for ability, but for the motivating confidence that our actions really matter. If we want to see better lives and a better world, we can trust God’s Spirit to encourage, support, and empower us to do what needs to be done. When hope springs into action, good things happen.