Nothing
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Paul’s humanity is fully displayed as he transitions from Romans 7 to Romans 8. Far from the comic book hero painted in the Acts of the Apostles, Paul is an ordinary guy who struggles to keep it all together. The flashes of insight and honesty must move the reader. Who among us does not understand our actions? Who hasn’t done the very things we claim to hate? We all have.
We must remember that Paul wasn’t writing scripture but a letter. He never envisioned his self-revelatory words detailing the depths of his struggles and pain would one day be called a book (instead of a letter) and then be included in a book called the New Testament which Christians would pair with the only scriptures he’d ever known, the Hebrew Bible (what we call the Old Testament). I don’t know what Paul would have thought about his letter, his words about his worst days, becoming sacred scripture on par with the stories of Abraham, Moses, Joshua, and David. After all, he talked, wrote a letter, and got thoughts off his chest. Somehow Paul’s admission of powerlessness and his strong opinions on what can separate us from God’s love eventually came to carry the weight of words uttered directly by God. As I reread Romans 7, I wondered, was this the outcome he would have wanted for these words or any of the other letters he wrote?
Paul writes from his varied life experiences. We may treat his words as scripture. We may read them as warnings. The question is: are we listening? He wants your attention. He doesn’t use an inside voice. He’s loud and obnoxious. Listen to me; he says, “No one knows how to pray. We’re all doing it wrong. Not one of us is getting it right. Tell that to your greatest prayer warrior,” the man at the end of the bar in his latest message to Rome. “The spirit does the real praying, and it doesn’t use words so, “shut up.” Prayers are more like groans if they’re like anything.”
“Father God, We just want to…”
No, says the man in the letter, your language, mannerisms, and phony piety are all wrong. That’s weak prayer sauce, he exclaims! Go to the Spirit and let the Spirit pray with, through, and for you.
At the end of the Caine Mutiny (1954), Lieutenant Greenwald (Jose Ferrer), a Navy lawyer who defended the officers of the USS Caine at their court martial, crashes the celebration they’re holding to mark their acquittal. To Greenwald, the whole affair has been a travesty of justice, no one is innocent, and everyone is guilty. Though they have avoided a court-martial, each officer pushed their unstable captain over the edge, especially the communications officer, Lieutenant Keever (Fred MacMurray). An aspiring novelist, he encouraged the officers to mutiny and retracted much of his testimony in their final trial. Disgusted with his cowardice, Greenwald throws a glass of champagne in his face and says, “If you want to do anything about it, I’ll be outside. I’m a lot drunker than you are, so it will be a fair fight.”
I think about this scene each time I read Romans 8:33. This is Paul’s Lieutenant Greenwald moment. He lays down the gauntlet to everyone in the room, all those reading his letter, now and until the end of time. To all who will listen: “Who will bring a charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies.” If we want to fight about it, Paul will meet us outside. Paul says we are the real authors of the Divine Mutiny, trying to separate God’s creation from God’s love. Nothing separates God’s love from those God loves. Spoiler alert: God loves everybody.
Nothing. Does Paul mean nothing? I think he means nothing. I also think everything and everyone is included in nothing. Homosexuality is included in nothing. Those who worship (Jewish, Islamic, and Hindu sisters and brothers) in other ways but essentially follow the Golden Rule are also included in nothing. Transgender kids are included in nothing. Republicans and Democrats alike fall into nothing. If nothing can separate us from the love of God, then nothing means nothing. Problems start when the church decides nothing means something, and the church goes into something-creating business. Some churches love to create lists of things that separate people from the love of God. That’s a full time job for some churches. If a church tells people that some things do separate us from the love of God, are they a even church? Aren’t they more like a weekly club for gossip, judgment, and how not to do prayer?
We’ve picked a fight with Paul. We’re all guilty. He’s met us outside. It’s never a fair fight with Paul. We will lose.