Hope in the midst of pain
18 For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory to be revealed to us.
19 For the creation eagerly waits anticipating the revelation of God’s sons. 20 For the creation was subjected to futility — not willingly, but because of him who subjected it — in the hope 21 that the creation itself will also be set free from the bondage to decay into the glorious freedom of God’s children. 22 For we know that the whole creation groans together with labor pains until now.
23 Not only that, but also we ourselves who having the first fruits of the Spirit —we also groan within ourselves, eagerly waiting adoption, the redemption of our bodies. 24 For in this hope we have been saved, but hope that is seen is not hope, because who hopes for what he sees? 25 Now if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with patience.Romans 8:18-25
This morning, I hold three stories in my hands. True stories.
The first: A pastor mowing his lawn looks up just in time to see a dump truck back over his neighbour’s toddler. The child is crushed beyond recognition.
The second: Jane wakes to her husband Dan, mute with terror. Brain cancer. Surgery erases his memory—he forgets his own son. Three years of agony later, Dan dies.
The third: A family with four hemophiliac children. Tainted blood infects them with AIDS. Two die quickly. A third waits for death. The fourth—a young father—faces leaving his children fatherless.
These aren’t hypotheticals. Theologian D.A. Carson writes them down after walking with these families in his book How Long, O Lord? They’re mirrors to our own pain. That diagnosis you got. That marriage crumbling. That child you can’t reach. That grief that steals your breath.
And beyond our doors, Tsunamis swallow villages. Genocides stain continents. Pandemics empty chairs at dinner tables. The psalmist’s cry echoes in our bones, How long, O Lord? How are we to cope as suffering grinds us raw?
Christ’s resurrection transforms suffering’s groan into hope’s anthem.
In a world drowning in pain, Paul reveals three shockers:
1. Your suffering doesn’t compare to coming glory (Romans 8:18)
2. Creation’s agony is hope’s megaphone (Romans 8:19-23)
3. In suffering we sing hope’s anthem (Romans 8:24-25)
In a world drowning in pain, Paul reveals three shockers:
Your suffering doesn’t compare to coming glory
Suffering is temporal; glory eternal.
18 For I consider that the sufferings of this present time
Last week we looked at Romans 8:12-17. The Spirit assured us we are God’s children. Heirs with Christ. That’s ‘s a wonderful promise. But Paul’s final words were if indeed we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him. Hope in the midst of pain. Present suffering with the promise of future glory. In Romans 8:18, Paul sharpens that hope. Paul confronts our pain. He names our agony.
Consider Paul’s original audience. Nero ruled Rome. Christians faced persecution. Real persecution. Brutal persecution. Deadly persecution. They lost their homes. They lost livelihoods. They lost their loved ones. Their suffering was raw, relentless, inescapable.
Paul acknowledges their pain. he doesn’t minimise it. Nor does he shy away from it. The sufferings of this present time are real. The Greek word πάθημα isn’t mild discomfort. It’s anguish. πάθημα is a soldier’s wound. πάθημα is a mother’s labor pain. πάθημα is a prisoner’s despair. πάθημα is the grind of daily life under the curse.
Dump trucks crush toddlers. Husbands die of brain cancer after years of agony. Hemophiliacs get infected with AIDS through tainted blood. Tsunamis kill hundreds of thousands. Genocides slaughtering millions. AIDS infects millions. Alzheimer’s steal minds. Poverty is rampant. The Holocaust, Stalin’s gulags, Rwanda’s machetes, happened in our lifetime’s. Live long enough, and we will suffer too.
are not worth comparing with the glory to be revealed to us.
But Paul doesn’t leave the Romans in a ditch of despair. He goes on to declare a cosmic shocker: All this pain cannot compare to the coming glory. Not partially. Not remotely. Not in any measure. Your worst suffering, your deepest grief, your longest night, is a fleeting sigh next to eternity’s symphony. Why? Because Christ didn’t stay dead. His resurrection guarantees yours. Nero’s cruelty? Swallowed by an empty tomb! Revelation 21:4-5 account of the end of the story thunders this truth! He will wipe away every tear! Death will be no more! Mourning, crying, and pain will cease! The old order has passed. Behold! I make all things new! This glory isn’t symbolic. It’s substantial. This is not a dream. This is a divine promise. Glory is coming. Glory is certain. Glory is eternal.
Present sufferings pale in comparison to future glory yet to be revealed. Fix your eyes on glory to come. Your groan is part of hope’s anthem.
So when your suffering feels isolating, remember, even the ground beneath your feet echoes your groan. Creation itself is tuning your anthem
In a world drowning in pain, Paul reveals three shockers:
Creation’s agony is hope’s megaphone
Nature’s cry echoes your pain.
20 For the creation was subjected to futility — not willingly, but because of him who subjected it — in the hope 22 For we know that the whole creation groans together with labor pains until now.
Wildfire burn out of control. Floods wash away townships. Glaciers melt away destroying eco systems. Creation is groaning. Not random chaos. Labor pains. Earth itself is a megaphone amplifying hope.
Think back to Eden. Genesis 1 and 2. Perfect harmony. No death. No thorns. No chaos. Then, the serpent’s lie. Followed by Adam’s bite. And then God’s curse. God’s words, Cursed is the ground because of you. So thorns choked soil. Animals turned violent. The very soil itself rebelled against the farmer’s hand. And creation itself was sentenced to decay.
Why? Why didn’t God just abandon His world. Why did He purpose futility. ματαιότης. Frustration. Futility, the curse, is a megaphone. The mess of this world shouts out, Your rebellion shattered everything! Every earthquake. Every cancer cell. Every withered rose preaches. Sin’s curse is real. Creation itself groaned under tyranny. And it groans today just as it has ever since the fall in pollution. And pandemics.
But God’s curse carries a promise. In hope the creation itself will be set free! The same God who subjected creation to futility intends on redeeming it. How? Genesis 3:15 flashes forward. Eve’s seed, one born from her line, will crush the serpent’s head. He will reverse the evil. He will restore creation back to the creator. Jesus rose from dead ground. Creation has had it’s first taste of freedom!
19 For the creation eagerly waits anticipating the revelation of God’s sons. 21 that the creation itself will also be set free from the bondage to decay into the glorious freedom of God’s children.
And so, The creation eagerly awaits the revealing of the sons of God. Not in passive silence. No, the Creation waits with active groaning. συστενάζει. Creation groans together. There is a universal, collective agony. Like labor pains. Creation’s suffering isn’t random. It’s birth pangs. There is a cosmic straining towards deliverance.
What is the Creation waiting for? Your resurrection. This is mind blowing. Your bodily resurrection. When Christ returns, God’s Children will be revealed as His glorified sons in glorified, resurrected bodies. Then the creation explodes. No more thorns! No more thistles! No more death!
I’m sure you can see how the Christian church under Nero would have clung to this. As they hid in catacombs. As they cowered in fear. As they suffered in this present time. Paul’s whisper, The dirt beneath your feet, It’s groaning for your resurrection.
All of creation, subjected to bondage and decay, waits in anticipation, groaning in pain, for future freedom. Creation’s agony amplifies Christ’s promise, I will make all things new. When storms rage or your body aches, lean in. Let creation’s groan tune your anthem: ‘Resurrection is near!’
Here’s the wonder, Creation isn’t just groaning with you. Creation is groaning for you. And as God’s child, your groans carry something creation lacks, the first notes of resurrection’s song.
In a world drowning in pain, Paul reveals three shockers:
In suffering we sing hope’s anthem
The first fruits of the Spirit tune your groans into resurrection’s melody.
23 Not only that, but also we ourselves who having the first fruits of the Spirit —we also groan within ourselves, eagerly waiting adoption, the redemption of our bodies.
Your groans are sacred. When chronic pain bites you. When layoffs crush your spirit. When losing a loved one suffocates your joy. When you watch your spouse deteriorate before your eyes—you groan with creation. But unlike creation, you can groan with hope. Why? The Spirit in you is God’s down payment for you.
First fruits, ἀπαρχή, isn’t abstract. Farmers in Nero’s Rome knew the first ripe fig guaranteed the full harvest. Liezl and I have a tenant—an agricultural economist—who walks peanut and tomato fields, projecting yields. You see? Nothing’s changed in 2,000 years. That first fruit you hold? It pledges the coming harvest. When the Spirit indwells you, He’s no vague influence. He’s God’s irreversible instalment of your resurrection. He turns your groans into the first notes of hope’s anthem.
You have this guarantee. When anxiety whispers, Will God abandon me? The Spirit thunders in you, I live in you! Your resurrection is prepaid. Your groans aren’t death throes; they’re birth pangs of eternal life!
24 For in this hope we have been saved, but hope that is seen is not hope, because who hopes for what he sees? 25 Now if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with patience.
Biblical hope isn’t crossing fingers—it’s Christ-secured certainty. The writer of Hebrews says faith is confidence in what we hope for. How? Because Christ’s resurrection turned hope’s melody into your anthem. When He walked from the tomb, He stamped warranty on your future.
So how do you wait patiently? Not by gritting teeth but by joining the song. You’re not waiting for relief. You’re waiting for resurrection. Your cancer-free body. Not a dream. A guaranteed reality sealed by Christ’s victory. Lean into the Spirit’s rhythm. He intercedes for you with groanings deeper than words. When you can’t pray, He lifts your groans into hope’s anthem. Your patient waiting becomes defiant worship. A verse in eternity’s chorus.
God’s children, marked by the first fruits of the Spirit, groan in hope as they wait for their bodies’ redemption. So groan boldly, child of God. Your sighs are stanzas in resurrection’s anthem. When pain screams at you, answer: I’ve tasted the future! The Spirit in me is Christ’s down payment. My song of hope has already begun!
This changes everything. When your groans become stanzas in Christ’s anthem, suffering shifts from a dirge to a defiant hymn. So what now?
Connect to the gospel
This passage breathes gospel hope. The Spirit’s first fruit in you is God’s down payment. God’s non-refundable deposit. God’s binding guarantee that Christ’s death and resurrection secured your future redemption. When Jesus walked out of the tomb, He didn’t just rise for Himself. He rose as the first fruits of the resurrection harvest. 1 Corinthians 15:20-23 makes this crystal clear, Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have fallen asleep. For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead also comes through a man. For just as in Adam all die, so also in Christ all will be made alive. But each in his own order: Christ, the first fruits; afterward, at his coming, those who belong to Christ.
Your suffering feels heavy now. Glory seems distant now. But hear this, The Spirit in you is God’s receipt. Your resurrection is prepaid, purchased, promised. Christ rose first. Your redemption is next in line. Every groan you utter in that hospital bed, every tear cried over your child’s addiction, every silent scream in your broken marriage, they’re temporary echoes in eternity’s corridor. Why? Because Jesus absorbed the full curse of sin on the cross. He transformed your decay into destiny. When He rose as the first fruit of new creation, He guaranteed your liberation from this body of death.
Application for believers
In suffering, let the Spirit’s presence turn your groans into expectant hope. When you feel overwhelmed, actively recall, This ache is birth pangs; not death throes. The Spirit in me is the first taste of resurrection glory. Your patient meditation on this principle testifies that Christ’s victory eclipses all pain.
Application for unbelievers
Your suffering screams a message you can’t ignore. That chronic pain? That broken marriage? That hollow emptiness? They’re not random accidents. They’re megaphones blasting three sobering truths.
You live under a curse—a curse you inherited from Adam. Your pain proves paradise is lost.
You cannot save yourself—no salary bonus silences death’s approach. No therapy erases sin’s stain. No religion revives dead ground.
Christ bore your curse. He hung on a tree, absorbing God’s wrath. He rose as the first fruit, guaranteeing liberation for all who run to Him.
Your groans can become the first notes of eternal hope. Not by trying harder. Not by religious duty. But by fleeing to Christ right now. Run from the curse. Run to the cross. Run toward resurrection. Today, trade meaningless decay for guaranteed glory.
Conclusion
Where was God when the dump truck crushed that child? When cancer stole a husband? When sickness ravaged a family?
He was right where He was when Roman nails pierced His Son’s hands: Turning temporal agony into eternal weight of glory. Making creation’s groan herald your resurrection. Transforming your sighs into the Spirit’s anthem.
Suffering’s question meets resurrection’s answer, Christ rose first—your redemption is next. So groan boldly, church. Your song of hope has already begun.
Christ’s resurrection transforms suffering’s groan into hope’s anthem.
In a world drowning in pain, Paul reveals three shockers:
1. Your suffering doesn’t compare to coming glory (Romans 8:18)
2. Creation’s agony is hope’s megaphone (Romans 8:19-23)
3. In suffering we sing hope’s anthem (Romans 8:24-25)