In This Hope We Were Saved • Romans 8:18-27 • Sunday, July 19, 2026

Waiting with Hope: The Promise of Future Glory

What part of Jesus' return are you looking forward to the most? It's a question worth pondering. Perhaps it's seeing Jesus face to face, or the end of all pain and suffering. Maybe it's being reunited with other believers, or witnessing peace finally come to the Middle East. Whatever images fill your mind, whatever longings stir your heart, gather them all together and consider this powerful truth from Romans 8:18:

"For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us."

The Incomparable Weight of Glory

Imagine a balance scale. On one side sits everything we suffer in this present age—every pain, every disappointment, every heartache. On the other side rests the glory that will be revealed when Christ returns. Do they balance? Not even close.

The future glory so far outweighs our present sufferings that comparison becomes meaningless. It's not that our pain doesn't matter or that our struggles aren't real. Rather, what awaits us is so magnificent, so beyond our current comprehension, that it renders our temporary afflictions light by comparison.

This isn't wishful thinking or religious platitudes. It's the confident assertion of Scripture, grounded in the promises of God.

Creation's Groan

The world around us bears witness to this truth in a sobering way. Romans 8:20-22 tells us that creation itself was subjected to futility, not by its own choice, but because of the fall. When Adam and Eve sinned, God cursed the ground. The earth became a place of thorns and thistles, of sweat and toil.

We see the evidence everywhere. Earthquakes devastate communities. Floods wash away homes. Storms unleash destructive hail. Mold, mildew, rot, and rust constantly work to break down what we build. The very air we breathe is polluted in many places.

The created world had nothing to do with humanity's rebellion, yet it suffers the consequences. Like labor pains, these destructive events are increasing in both intensity and frequency. The whole creation groans, waiting for redemption.

But here's the remarkable thing: creation will be set free. It will "obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God" (Romans 8:21). The earth itself is waiting for renewal.

Our Inward Groaning

And we groan too, don't we? We who have the firstfruits of the Spirit groan inwardly as we wait for the redemption of our bodies (Romans 8:23).

How many of us have been injured? How many have had body parts removed or replaced? How many have lost their original teeth? Without even speaking it aloud, we groan inwardly at the decay we experience, the limitations we face, the pain we endure.

Sometimes the weight of what we see in the world around us becomes almost unbearable. The injustice, the violence, the suffering of the innocent—it all produces a groaning deep within us. That groaning is the Holy Spirit bearing witness that what's happening is not good, that there must be something better, that this cannot be all there is.

How long must we wait?

Hope in What We Cannot See

"For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience" (Romans 8:24-25).

We're hoping for something we haven't yet experienced. We're waiting for promises yet to be fulfilled. But we know they will be fulfilled because God has declared it.

When Jesus ascended into heaven, angels told the disciples, "This Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven" (Acts 1:11). He's coming back. We don't know when, but we know He's coming.

And when He does, everything changes.

The Transformation to Come

First Corinthians 15:51-54 reveals the mystery: "We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed."

In an instant, our perishable bodies will put on the imperishable. Our mortal bodies will put on immortality. Death itself will be swallowed up in victory. No more pain. No more decay. No more groaning under the weight of physical limitations.

But it's not just about us. Second Peter 3:13 promises, "According to his promise we are waiting for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells."

A new earth. No more earthquakes. No more flooding. No more destruction. Lasting beauty. Lasting peace. A world where righteousness—not corruption—is the norm.

Waiting with Patience

So what do we do while we wait? We wait with patience.

If we're honest, patience doesn't come easily. On a scale of one to ten, most of us would rate our patience somewhere in the middle at best. We're like children on a long car ride asking, "Are we there yet? Are we there yet?"

The wait can be excruciating. And in our weakness, we might do things we shouldn't. We might lose hope. We might even be tempted to give up.

But here's the beautiful truth: "The Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words" (Romans 8:26).

When we groan inwardly, the Spirit hears. When we don't even know how to pray, the Spirit intercedes on our behalf. The entire triune God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—knows us, feels with us, and loves us in the midst of our waiting.

God has our back.

Having Only Positive Expectations

This is what biblical hope looks like: having only positive expectations based on what God has promised. Our expectations are high because we know what God has planned. We've read the end of the story, and we win.

So we wait. We wait with patience, knowing that our present sufferings cannot compare with the glory to be revealed. We wait with hope, knowing that God is faithful to His promises. We wait with confidence, knowing that the Spirit intercedes for us when we're too weak to pray.

The creation groans. We groan. But our groaning is not the groan of despair. It's the groan of anticipation, the labor pains that precede new birth, the eager longing for the revealing of the children of God.

What part of Jesus' return are you looking forward to the most? Whatever it is, hold onto that hope. Let it sustain you through the wait. And remember: what's coming is so glorious, so magnificent, so beyond anything we can imagine, that all our present suffering pales in comparison.

The best is yet to come.

(Blog content generated by PulpitAI from sermon transcript)