The God Who Sets Wicked Men Aright

Sermon by Andrew Golla, Nashotah House Middler

Romans 4:1-8                         

Despite our efforts to persuade ourselves to the contrary, the truth is that we are weak-willed, fickle-minded, half-hearted, and repeat failures. 

This week at least one of us met an eager heart with a cold shoulder—and if it’s not you, it’s me. One of us complained about an assignment instead of finishing it. One of us took the opportunity to make someone else look stupid. One of us looked at pornography. One of us drank too much. One of us emptied God’s house of reverence. One of us mumbled when God wanted us to sing. And the disturbing thing is that even our tiny failings add up over time and pollute our hearts. St. Paul writes that “the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and wickedness of men who by their wickedness suppress the truth” (Rom. 1). That’s what wickedness is: when we live out in word and deed the dethroning of truth we have already chosen, with the consequence that we become smaller-souled people, and the beauty of Jesus grows dimmer in our eyes.

Our passage today from Romans presents two kinds of people: those who work and those who don’t. We might helpfully gloss this as those who set to work and finish the job and those who, lacking strength or skill or motivation, can’t get it done. So . . . achievers, failures—and we’re the failures. Sure, if we could convince somebody of our inner righteousness by walking the walk and talking the talk, then we’d have reason to boast—but if we are honest with ourselves, we know that any sober-minded appraisal of our actions will find in them habits inconsistent with a life of truth. With David, we must confess,

I know my transgressions,
    and my sin is ever before me.
So that thou art justified in thy sentence
    and blameless in thy judgment.  (Ps. 51)

And it all provokes the very practical question: is there any hope for us? If we can’t lie to ourselves forever—and we certainly can’t lie to God—is there any hope? Think about your own besetting sins—has God left you to add sin unto sin unto sin until you’re stained by them and left stumbling around in the dark?

Well, what does the Scripture say? In a time of profound doubt, Abraham “trusted in God, and it was credited to him as righteousness” (Gen. 15). Broken in his sinfulness, David clung to the hope that “a broken and contrite heart God would not despise” (Ps. 51). These two failures threw themselves at the mercy of their Judge—which is an absolutely ludicrous proposition, if it weren’t that they knew him to be the Righteous Judge precisely because of the fact, not in spite of it, that he is the One who sets wicked men aright. “Good and upright is the LORD; therefore, he instructs sinners in the way” (Ps. 25). 

And it is written, that even this faint flicker of faithfulness, this tiny act, “was credited to them as righteousness.” For if we cast our dying light in hope upon the Everlasting, All-Consuming, Holy Blaze who renders us judgment, what do we find but the wondrous absurdity that God delights in us as a Father delights in his children? “When Israel was a child,” says the Lord, I loved him,

    and out of Egypt I called my son.

The more I called them,

    the more they went from me.

Yet how can I give you up, O Ephraim!

    How can I hand you over, O Israel!  (Hos. 11)

When you pass through the waters I will be with you,

    and the flame shall not consume you.

For I am the Lord your God,

    the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. (Isa. 43)

The LORD is our Judge . . . and our Savior. He’s a good father, and he loves us, and he gets the job done. So take heart, you unprofitable servants. Lay hold of life, even if seated in the dust. For you are blessed. “Blessed is the man against whom the LORD will not reckon sin” (Rom. 4).

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The preceding sermon was delivered on the Feast Day of Teresa of Ávila on October 15, 2021, in the Chapel of St. Mary the Virgin at Nashotah House. To listen to the sermon, please visit this link. 

Andy Golla, ‘24, is a residential M.Div student in his second year of studies at Nashotah House. He is originally from Greenville, South Carolina, where he lives with his parents, younger sister, two dachshunds, and a cat. While in Greenville, he is a regular member of Village Church Anglican, and while in Wisconsin, he attends and serves at St. John Chrysostom Episcopal Church in nearby Delafield, Wisconsin.