23 June 2025
“The sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is going to be revealed to us” (Romans 8:18, CSB).
Suffering is not a theory. It is felt in the bones and borne on the shoulders. Mark began his sermon with real stories: “A pastor mowing his lawn looks up just in time to see a dump truck back over his neighbour’s toddler… Jane wakes to her husband Dan, mute with terror. Brain cancer… A family with four hemophiliac children infected with AIDS from tainted blood.” These aren’t fiction. They are heartbreak made visible. And as Mark said, “They’re mirrors to our own pain.”
Paul doesn’t deny suffering. “He acknowledges their pain. He doesn’t minimise it. Nor does he shy away from it.” The Greek word for “suffering” in this verse, πάθημα, is not soft. It describes “a soldier’s wound,” “a mother’s labor pain,” “a prisoner’s despair.” It is the daily grind under the curse. It is not mild. It is brutal. And it is familiar. You’ve felt it in boardrooms and bedrooms, in hospital wards and long school pick-ups. As Mark said, “Live long enough, and we will suffer too.”
But Paul doesn’t leave us there. He offers a staggering contrast. “Your worst suffering, your deepest grief, your longest night, is a fleeting sigh next to eternity’s symphony.” He is not asking you to pretend the pain isn’t real. He’s asking you to consider that glory is more real. And greater. And eternal. Paul knew Nero’s Rome. Christians were losing homes, jobs, families, even their lives. Yet he still declared, “The sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is going to be revealed to us.”
What makes that confidence possible? “Because Christ didn’t stay dead. His resurrection guarantees yours.” Mark put it plainly: “Nero’s cruelty? Swallowed by an empty tomb!” Revelation 21 says, “He will wipe away every tear… death will be no more.” That is not wishful thinking. That is your future, sealed by the risen Christ.
So the next time your suffering feels heavy, or your kids catch you groaning under the weight of life, speak hope aloud. “This ache is temporary. Glory is coming.” That is not denial. That is defiant faith.
Prayer:
Father, when my pain feels loud, help me hear the louder promise of coming glory. Tune my heart to eternity. Amen.
Read the sermon notes here.
Watch the sermon here.
This devotional content is not penned by the preacher. It is derived from the sermon notes. We aim to provide bite-sized reflections throughout the week for devotion and reflection.