[These are the prepared notes for a split sermon given to the United Church of God congregation in Portland, Oregon on Sabbath, March 22, 2025.]

Good afternoon to you all, and I hope you are finding good comfort here on this Sabbath day.  Most of us, I trust, are familiar with what Paul says in Romans 8:28.  We read the following in Romans 8:28: “And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.”

When Christians face adversity, few verses are quoted more frequently than Romans 8:28. Yet for many sufferers, these words can feel hollow or even hurtful rather than comforting. “All things work together for good” can sound dismissive when confronting profound loss, chronic illness, or unrelenting injustice. The verse, intended as a balm, sometimes becomes an irritant instead.

Why does this promise often fail to console? In moments of deep pain, pat answers and spiritual platitudes rarely provide meaningful comfort. The suggestion that present suffering is simply part of some greater divine plan can seem callous, particularly when that suffering feels senseless or overwhelming. For someone in the depths of grief, being told their pain serves some higher purpose may feel like a dismissal of their very real anguish.

Furthermore, Romans 8:28 can be weaponized in harmful ways. It has been misused to silence victims, discourage necessary action, or suggest that questioning God’s ways demonstrates a lack of faith. When carelessly employed as a quick fix for complex emotional and spiritual struggles, this verse can actually deepen wounds rather than heal them.

As is often the case, the problem lies not in the verse itself, but in our tendency to isolate it from its rich scriptural context. Romans 8:28 was never intended to stand alone as a simple aphorism. Rather, it forms part of a profound theological argument about suffering, redemption, and ultimate hope.

To see that argument, we need to look at a larger context.  Let us look earlier in Romans 8, and read Romans 8:18-25.  Romans 8:18-25 reads: “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us. For the earnest expectation of the creation eagerly waits for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of Him who subjected it in hope; because the creation itself also will be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God.  For we know that the whole creation groans and labors with birth pangs together until now. Not only that, but we also who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, eagerly waiting for the adoption, the redemption of our body. For we were saved in this hope, but hope that is seen is not hope; for why does one still hope for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with perseverance.”

Paul begins this passage by acknowledging the reality of suffering. He does not minimize it or pretend it doesn’t exist. Rather, he places current suffering within the broader context of God’s redemptive work. Creation itself experiences the painful consequences of the Fall, groaning under the weight of brokenness and awaiting liberation. Paul compares this suffering to childbirth—intense pain with profound purpose. This metaphor reveals something crucial: the pain is real and significant, yet it is not the end of the story. Just as childbirth leads to new life, our present sufferings participate in a larger narrative of redemption. This frames suffering not as punishment or meaningless chaos, but as part of a process leading toward glory.

Let us now read on in the next two verses of Romans 8.  Romans 8:26-27 reads: “Likewise the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses. For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. Now He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He makes intercession for the saints according to the will of God.”

When suffering overwhelms us, even prayer can feel impossible. Here, Paul offers profound reassurance: we are not alone in our weakness. The Holy Spirit intercedes for us with “groanings which cannot be uttered”—joining in our suffering and articulating what we cannot. God is present and active even when we feel most abandoned. This intimate divine involvement in our pain creates the context for understanding verse 28. The promise that “all things work together for good” comes not from a distant deity imposing suffering for some abstract purpose, but from a God who enters into our suffering and transforms it from within.

We now come to the verse where we began and its immediate context.  Let us read Romans 8:28-30.  Romans 8:28-30 reads: “And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose. For whom He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the firstborn among many brethren. Moreover whom He predestined, these He also called; whom He called, these He also justified; and whom He justified, these He also glorified.”

Now we can see the proper context for Romans 8:28. The “good” toward which God works is not necessarily our immediate comfort or the fulfillment of our desires. Rather, it is our ultimate conformity to Christ’s image. Suffering becomes meaningful not because it serves some inscrutable divine plan, but because through it we are gradually transformed to reflect Christ himself. The passage continues by emphasizing the unbreakable chain of God’s redemptive work—from foreknowledge to glorification. This assurance of God’s faithfulness from beginning to end provides the foundation for true comfort. Our suffering, however severe, cannot separate us from God’s purpose or love.

Let us now continue to Romans 8:31-39 and finish the immediate context of Romans 8:28.  Romans 8:31-39 reads: “What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things? Who shall bring a charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is he who condemns? It is Christ who died, and furthermore is also risen, who is even at the right hand of God, who also makes intercession for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written: ‘For Your sake we are killed all day long; We are accounted as sheep for the slaughter. Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

The climax of Romans 8 reveals the ultimate source of Christian comfort: the sacrificial love of Christ. Paul points to the cross as the definitive proof of God’s commitment to our good. If God “did not spare His own Son,” we can trust his love even when suffering seems to suggest otherwise. This leads to the triumphant declaration that nothing—not even the most extreme suffering—can separate us from God’s love. We are “more than conquerors” not because we escape suffering, but because through Christ’s sacrifice, suffering itself is transformed from a potential separator to a potential connector to God’s love. Here lies the true comfort of Romans 8:28. The promise is not that everything will feel good or that we will always understand God’s purposes. Rather, it is that God is actively working even through the most painful circumstances to draw us deeper into fellowship with Christ. The good toward which all things work is ultimately our participation in Christ’s death and resurrection—a journey through suffering into the glory of eternal life in His Family.

Let us now look at how we can better understand Romans 8:28 in the light of other scriptures of the Bible.  Let us first turn to Isaiah 53:3-5.  Isaiah 53:3-5 reads: “He is despised and rejected by men, A Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. And we hid, as it were, our faces from Him; He was despised, and we did not esteem Him. Surely He has borne our griefs And carried our sorrows; Yet we esteemed Him stricken, Smitten by God, and afflicted. But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; The chastisement for our peace was upon Him, And by His stripes we are healed.”

The Suffering Servant passage in Isaiah provides one of the most profound portraits of Christ’s redemptive suffering centuries before his incarnation. Here, the Messiah is depicted not as a conquering king but as one intimately acquainted with grief. This revelation offers tremendous comfort to the suffering believer: our God is not distant from our pain but has entered fully into human suffering. The sacrificial nature of Christ’s suffering is explicitly outlined—he has borne our griefs, carried our sorrows, and was wounded for our transgressions. His stripes become the means of our healing. This substitutionary atonement speaks directly to our deepest need: reconciliation with God despite our brokenness. In the mysteriously redemptive exchange at the cross, our suffering is not merely acknowledged but transformed. Christ’s willingness to bear the “chastisement for our peace” brings us shalom—not a simplistic absence of trouble, but a profound wholeness that can exist even amid continued external difficulties. When we view Romans 8:28 through the lens of Isaiah 53, we see more clearly how God works all things for good. The supreme example of this divine alchemy is the crucifixion itself—where history’s greatest injustice becomes the means of humanity’s salvation. If God can transform the crucifixion into resurrection, what might he do with our comparatively lesser sufferings?

Let us now turn to Hebrews 2:14-18.  Hebrews 2:14-18 reads: “Inasmuch then as the children have partaken of flesh and blood, He Himself likewise shared in the same, that through death He might destroy him who had the power of death, that is, the devil, and release those who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage. For indeed He does not give aid to angels, but He does give aid to the seed of Abraham. Therefore, in all things He had to be made like His brethren, that He might be a merciful and faithful High Priest in things pertaining to God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people. For in that He Himself has suffered, being tempted, He is able to aid those who are tempted.”

The author of Hebrews brings another dimension to understanding Christ’s sacrifice—Jesus became fully human, experiencing our weaknesses and temptations. This remarkable condescension means that Christ’s comfort is not theoretical but experiential. He knows human suffering from the inside. By his death, Christ destroyed “him who had the power of death.” This victory over our ultimate enemy provides a foundation for comfort in all lesser trials. If death itself has been conquered, what temporary suffering can ultimately defeat us? The sacrifice of Christ releases us from bondage to the fear of death—often the underlying anxiety fueling other fears. Christ’s role as “merciful and faithful High Priest” emphasizes both his compassion and his effectiveness. Because he has suffered, he can truly aid us in our suffering. His propitiation addresses our deepest alienation—separation from God due to sin—and establishes him as our advocate who understands our struggles firsthand. When we read Romans 8:28 with Hebrews 2 in mind, we recognize that the God who works all things for good is no distant sovereign but one who has entered fully into human experience. This incarnational comfort transcends platitudes; it is the presence of One who truly knows.

Let us now turn to 2 Corinthians 4:8-12.  2 Corinthains 4:8-12 reads: “We are hard-pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed—always carrying about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body. For we who live are always delivered to death for Jesus’ sake, that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. So then death is working in us, but life in you…”  Now let us skip down to verses 16-18.  2 Corinthians 4:16-18 reads: “Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”

Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians provides perhaps his most personal reflection on suffering and comfort. Here he describes the paradoxical nature of Christian suffering—experiencing pressure without being crushed, perplexity without despair. What makes this possible? The sacrificial pattern of Christ. The extraordinary statement that believers are “always carrying about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus” reveals how intimately our suffering can be united with Christ’s. Our trials are not meaningless but participate in the redemptive pattern established at Calvary. Just as Christ’s death led to resurrection, our “deaths”—our sufferings, losses, and trials—become channels through which his life can flow. Paul reframes suffering not as an interruption of God’s purposes but as an integral part of them. Our “light affliction, which is but for a moment” (which for Paul included shipwrecks, beatings, and imprisonment) is “working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.” This perspective doesn’t deny suffering’s reality but transforms how we understand it. When we connect this passage to Romans 8:28, we see more clearly what the “good” might entail. It includes the profound privilege of participating in Christ’s redemptive pattern and the inward renewal that occurs even as outward circumstances deteriorate. The sacrifice of Christ doesn’t just save us from suffering; it gives new meaning to suffering itself.

Let us now turn to 1 Peter 2:21-25.  1 Peter 2:21-25 reads: “For to this you were called, because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that you should follow His steps: ‘Who committed no sin, Nor was deceit found in His mouth’; who, when He was reviled, did not revile in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten, but committed Himself to Him who judges righteously; who Himself bore our sins in His own body on the tree, that we, having died to sins, might live for righteousness—by whose stripes you were healed. For you were like sheep going astray, but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.”

Peter’s letter, written to Christians experiencing persecution, connects Christ’s sacrifice directly to our suffering. The innocent suffering of Jesus becomes both our salvation and our example. This dual significance transforms how we approach our own trials. The redemptive effect of Christ’s sacrifice is explicitly stated: “by whose stripes you were healed.” This healing encompasses more than physical recovery; it represents wholeness in our relationship with God. We who were “like sheep going astray” have been restored to our Shepherd through Christ’s sacrifice.

Peter highlights Christ’s response to suffering—committing Himself to God rather than retaliating. This pattern of trusting surrender in the face of injustice provides a template for believers. Our suffering becomes an opportunity to display the same character Christ revealed on the cross. Reading Romans 8:28 alongside this passage, we understand more fully how God works all things for good. One aspect of this “good” is the opportunity to follow Christ’s example, demonstrating trust in God even when circumstances seem to contradict his goodness. The sacrifice of Christ thus becomes not only our salvation but our pattern.

Let us now turn to Revelation 5:9-10.  Revelation 5:9-10 reads: “And they sang a new song, saying: ‘You are worthy to take the scroll, And to open its seals; For You were slain, And have redeemed us to God by Your blood Out of every tribe and tongue and people and nation, And have made us kings and priests to our God; And we shall reign on the earth.'”

John’s apocalyptic vision reveals the cosmic significance of Christ’s sacrifice. In heaven itself, the central focus is the Lamb who was slain. Christ’s worthiness to unveil God’s purposes stems directly from his sacrificial death. The imagery powerfully communicates that the suffering of the cross was not an unfortunate detour but the pinnacle of Christ’s mission. The redemptive effect of this sacrifice extends to “every tribe and tongue and people and nation”—a universal scope that transcends all human divisions. Those redeemed by Christ’s blood are not merely saved from judgment but elevated to a royal priesthood, connecting earth to heaven and ultimately participating in Christ’s reign. This heavenly perspective on Christ’s sacrifice helps us understand the ultimate “good” toward which God works in Romans 8:28. Our present sufferings, viewed from eternity’s vantage point, participate in a story of cosmic redemption. The wounds that seem so defining now will someday be understood as part of a “new song” celebrating God’s redemptive work.

Let us now turn to our final scripture for today, Philippians 3:10-11.  Philippians 3:10-11, breaking into a throught, reads: “that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death, if, by any means, I may attain to the resurrection from the dead.”

Paul’s personal aspiration in Philippians reveals perhaps the most counterintuitive aspect of Christ’s sacrifice—it creates in believers a desire to participate in Christ’s sufferings. For Paul, knowing Christ fully meant not only experiencing resurrection power but also sharing in the path that led to resurrection. This “fellowship of His sufferings” represents a profound solidarity with Christ’s redemptive work. Our trials become opportunities to know Christ more intimately, not merely obstacles to overcome. Being “conformed to His death” precedes and prepares us for resurrection life. When we view Romans 8:28 through this lens, the “good” toward which God works includes this deepened fellowship with Christ. Our sufferings, rather than separating us from God’s love, can actually deepen our communion with the crucified and risen Lord.

When we examine Romans 8:28 in light of these passages about Christ’s sacrifice, we discover a profound comfort that transcends simplistic explanations or denials of suffering. Christ’s sacrifice reveals that:

1. God enters into our suffering. In Christ, God experienced human pain firsthand. Our sufferings are not faced alone but in communion with One who truly understands.
2. Suffering can be redemptive. Just as Christ’s greatest suffering produced our greatest good, our trials can participate in God’s redemptive purposes. This doesn’t make suffering good in itself, but it can become a conduit for good.
3. Present pain exists within a larger story. The cross appeared to be the end of Jesus’ mission but became the foundation for resurrection. Our sufferings likewise exist within a larger narrative that culminates in glory.
4. God’s love is proven, not disproven, by suffering. The cross stands as the ultimate evidence of divine love. When trials tempt us to doubt God’s goodness, we can look to Calvary and see love demonstrated at the greatest possible cost.
5. Suffering conforms us to Christ’s image. Through trials, we are gradually transformed to reflect the character of Christ himself—his patience, trust, and sacrificial love.
6. Our identity is secure regardless of circumstances. Because of Christ’s sacrifice, nothing can separate us from God’s love. This unshakable security provides a foundation for facing all earthly trials.

The sacrifice of Jesus Christ transforms Romans 8:28 from a potentially glib platitude into a profound promise. The God who works all things for good is the same God who demonstrated his commitment to our good by delivering up His Son. This doesn’t minimize suffering or provide neat explanations for every trial, but it offers something better: the assurance that through Christ’s death and resurrection, our sufferings can be integrated into a story of redemption that ultimately ends in eternal glory.

As we face life’s inevitable trials, we can find genuine comfort not by avoiding pain or seeking simplistic answers, but by anchoring ourselves in the redemptive pattern established with Christ’s death—where history’s greatest tragedy became the means of humanity’s greatest hope. In this way, the sacrifice of Christ doesn’t just promise future comfort; it transforms how we experience suffering now, allowing us to say with Paul that our “light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.”