You Are Chosen, Appointed, and Called to Work
There is something deeply human about closing words. When a conversation is running short on time, when a letter is drawing to its end, we instinctively reach for what matters most. We say the things we most want the other person to carry with them. The final chapter of Paul's letter to the Romans is exactly that kind of moment. And what Paul chooses to say in those final verses is worth sitting with carefully, because it is not just a message for the early church. It is a message for anyone who calls themselves a follower of Jesus today.
A Community That Worked Together
Romans 16 is often skimmed over. It is a long list of names, and it is easy to assume there is nothing there for us. But slow down for a moment and look at what those names represent. These were real men and women, slaves and officials, Jews and Gentiles, who loved Jesus and gave their lives to the work of the gospel. Paul calls some of them "fellow workers," a word rooted in the Greek concept of synergy, the idea that people working together can accomplish something far greater than any one of them could alone.
That is not just an interesting historical footnote. It is a picture of what the church is supposed to look like. Every person in that list had a part to play. And the same is true today. Every believer is called to be part of God's work. Not just pastors, not just those with official titles, but every single person who has placed their faith in Jesus.
Is God Doing It Wrong?
There is a moment most of us have experienced — watching something unfold in a way that seems backward, inefficient, or simply wrong, and feeling the almost irresistible urge to step in and say so. We do it with our families, our coworkers, and if we are honest, we do it with God. We look at the circumstances of our lives, or the state of the world, and somewhere deep in our hearts we think: this is not how I would have done it.
Romans 9 invites us into exactly that tension. It is one of the most challenging passages in all of Scripture, and it refuses to let us stay comfortable. It raises enormous questions about God's character, His faithfulness, and His plan — and it does not always answer them in the neat, tidy ways we prefer. But that discomfort is not a sign that something has gone wrong. It is an invitation to trust someone whose understanding is infinitely higher than our own.
The Anguish of Unfinished Things
The apostle Paul opens Romans 9 with raw, personal grief. He is not writing from a distance about abstract theology. He is writing as a Jewish man who loves his people deeply, who recognizes everything God has given them — the covenants, the law, the promises, the patriarchs, and the Messiah himself who came through their very lineage — and who is heartbroken that so many have rejected Jesus as that Messiah. Paul goes so far as to say he would be willing to be cut off from Christ himself if it meant his people could be saved (Romans 9:3).
This is not the posture of someone who has given up. It is the posture of someone who cares so deeply that the ache is almost unbearable. And it sets the tone for everything that follows. Before we wrestle with doctrine, we are invited to feel the weight of what is at stake.
The Sacred Mystery of Marriage: God's Design for Oneness
Marriage has become so familiar in our culture that we've lost sight of its profound mystery. We've witnessed countless ceremonies, celebrated at receptions, and maybe even stood at the altar ourselves. But somewhere between the wedding planning and the daily grind of life together, we've forgotten that marriage was designed to be holy—set apart, different, beautiful, and worthy of awe and wonder.
More Than a Contract
Our society treats marriage as a legal arrangement, a contract that can be negotiated, amended, or dissolved when circumstances change. But the biblical vision of marriage presents something far more profound: a covenant.
In ancient times, covenants were serious business. Parties would literally cut animals in half and walk between them, essentially declaring, "May what happened to these animals happen to me if I break this promise." When God made a covenant with Abraham, He did something unprecedented—He walked through those pieces Himself, binding Himself to promises He would keep forever.
This is the model for marriage. It's not a contract based on performance or conditional terms. It's a sacred, binding promise made before God—permanent, sacrificial, and designed to unite two people in complete oneness until death.