Cosmic Birth Pangs
Introduction: A Future That Weighs Something
We live in a thin and flimsy age. Our modern world has a peculiar relationship with suffering. We are either desperately trying to insulate ourselves from every conceivable discomfort, creating a padded, therapeutic culture where every inconvenience is a trauma, or we are making an idol of our victimhood, parading our grievances as a mark of righteousness. We have forgotten what suffering is for. We see it as a cosmic mistake, a glitch in the system, a pointless intrusion into our pursuit of personal happiness.
But the Christian faith is not thin. It is not flimsy. It is robust and sinewy, because it is anchored in a reality that has weight. The Bible does not minimize suffering; it stares it square in the face. But it does something our age finds unthinkable: it puts suffering on a scale. And on the other side of the scale, it places a weight so immense, so substantial, so glorious, that all the accumulated pain of this life, from a stubbed toe to the martyr's fire, becomes, in comparison, a thing of utter lightness. It is a feather weighed against a mountain range.
This passage in Romans 8 is the great Christian reframing of all reality. It is a declaration that the story of the world is not a tragedy. It is not a farce. It is a divine comedy, a story that ends in a wedding feast. But it is also a story that passes through the valley of the shadow. Paul is not offering us a cheap anesthetic to dull the pain. He is offering us a telescope. He is telling us to look through the lens of the gospel at the coming horizon, and what we see there will change how we experience everything here and now. He is telling us that the universe itself is groaning, not in a death rattle, but in the pains of childbirth.
The Text
For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the anxious longing 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 that the creation itself also will be set free from its slavery to corruption into the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation groans and suffers the pains of childbirth together until now. And not only this, but also we ourselves, having the first fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, eagerly waiting for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body. For in hope we were saved, but hope that is seen is not hope, for who hopes for what he already sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, with perseverance we eagerly wait for it.
(Romans 8:18-25 LSB)
The Great Imbalance (v. 18)
Paul begins with a staggering piece of spiritual accounting.
"For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us." (Romans 8:18 LSB)
The word "consider" here is logizomai. It's an accounting term. This is not a sentimental platitude or a bit of wishful thinking. Paul has done the math. He has placed all the sufferings of this present age, all the persecution, the shipwrecks, the beatings, the betrayals, the hunger, the sickness, the disappointments, on one side of the ledger. And on the other side, he has placed the glory that is coming. And his sober, calculated, apostolic conclusion is that there is no comparison. It is an absurdity to even put them in the same sentence. The glory outweighs the suffering so completely that the suffering becomes, by comparison, insignificant.
Notice the glory is "to be revealed to us," or in us. This is not about us going to some ethereal, cloudy place called "glory." This is about glory invading us, transforming us. It is the unveiling of what we were always meant to be in Christ. This glory is not just a future reward; it is a future reality that defines our present one. When we understand this great imbalance, it doesn't make the pain disappear, but it gives it a context. It gives it an expiration date. It tells us that our afflictions are both light and momentary, while the glory is an eternal weight (2 Cor. 4:17).
Creation on Tiptoe (vv. 19-21)
Next, Paul expands the scope of this hope from the individual believer to the entire cosmos. This is a direct assault on any gnostic or pietistic view that treats the physical world as a disposable stage.
"For the anxious longing 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 that the creation itself also will be set free from its slavery to corruption into the freedom of the glory of the children of God." (Romans 8:19-21 LSB)
The universe is personified. It is standing on tiptoe, craning its neck, waiting with "anxious longing" for something. And what is it waiting for? It is waiting for you. It is waiting for the children of God to be revealed in their full, resurrected glory. Why? Because our glorification is the trigger for its liberation.
In verse 20, Paul tells us why creation is in this state. It was "subjected to futility." This is a direct reference to the curse in Genesis 3. When Adam sinned, God did not just curse mankind; He cursed the ground for man's sake. Thorns, thistles, decay, entropy, natural disasters, all of it, this is the "slavery to corruption." But notice two crucial things. First, it was not creation's fault; it was subjected "not willingly." Second, it was a judicial act of God Himself, "because of Him who subjected it." But this subjection was not a final word. God subjected it "in hope." The curse was pronounced with a promise embedded within it.
And the hope is this: that creation itself will be set free. This is not about escaping the material world, but about the restoration of the material world. The rocks and rivers, the mountains and meadows, will be liberated from the curse of decay and will participate in the same glorious freedom that we will. This is a robust, earthy, physical hope. It is the foundation of a truly Christian environmentalism, one that sees creation not as a goddess to be worshipped, but as a fellow victim of the fall, waiting for the same redemption we are. Our destiny and the destiny of the cosmos are tied together.
A Groaning Duet (vv. 22-23)
The current state of things is one of pain, but it is a particular kind of pain.
"For we know that the whole creation groans and suffers the pains of childbirth together until now. And not only this, but also we ourselves, having the first fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, eagerly waiting for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body." (Romans 8:22-23 LSB)
The groaning is universal. The whole creation is in labor. This is a brilliant metaphor. Childbirth is agonizing, but it is not pointless. It is productive pain. It is pain with a purpose. The groans of creation are not death rattles; they are contractions. A new world is being born out of the old.
But we are not detached observers of this cosmic labor. We groan too. In fact, our groaning is unique because we have the "first fruits of the Spirit." We have the down payment of our inheritance. We have tasted the new wine of the kingdom, and that taste makes the vinegar of this present age all the more bitter. The Holy Spirit within us is a foretaste of the glory to come, and this creates a holy dissatisfaction with the world as it is. We groan for the consummation.
And what exactly are we groaning for? Paul is explicit: "our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body." Our adoption is already a reality legally, but we await its full manifestation. And that manifestation is the resurrection. We are not waiting to be rid of our bodies, but to have them redeemed. This is the capstone of our hope. We will get our bodies back, healed, glorified, and perfected, fit for an eternity of service and joy in a renewed heaven and a renewed earth.
The Logic of Hope (vv. 24-25)
Finally, Paul explains the nature of the Christian virtue that sustains us in this period of groaning.
"For in hope we were saved, but hope that is seen is not hope, for who hopes for what he already sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, with perseverance we eagerly wait for it." (Romans 8:24-25 LSB)
Our salvation is a present reality, but its fullness is a future one. We live in the "now and not yet." And the bridge between the two is hope. But biblical hope is not the flimsy, uncertain wishing of our modern vocabulary. Biblical hope is a confident, settled expectation of a guaranteed future. It is substance, not shadow (Heb. 11:1).
Paul's logic is simple and unassailable. You cannot hope for what you already possess. Hope, by its very nature, deals with the unseen. We do not see our glorified bodies. We do not see the renewed creation. We do not see Christ returning on the clouds. Therefore, we hope. Because God has promised these things, our hope is not a gamble; it is an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.
And what does this hope produce? It produces perseverance. It produces a patient, eager waiting. We are not to be passive. We are not to be frantic. We are to be steadfast, working, building, and waiting with the joyful confidence of children who know their father is coming home and that when he arrives, the great party will begin.
Conclusion: Living Between the Groans
So what does this mean for us on a Tuesday morning when the car won't start and the diagnosis is grim? It means everything. This is not abstract doctrine; it is the fuel for Christian living.
First, it gives us a framework for our suffering. Our pain is real, but it is not ultimate. It is a birth pang, not a death throe. It is a temporary, lightweight affliction that is producing for us an eternal weight of glory. We can endure it because we know what it is leading to.
Second, it gives us a mission in the world. We are not just polishing brass on a sinking ship. This world, this creation, is going to be redeemed. Therefore, our work here matters. When we cultivate a garden, build a just law, write a beautiful song, or raise children in the fear of the Lord, we are not just passing the time. We are planting seeds of the new creation. We are acting in hope, demonstrating in the here and now what the there and then will be like.
Finally, it gives us an unshakeable confidence. Our hope is not in our circumstances, our government, or our own strength. Our hope is in the God who subjected the creation in hope, who gave us the first fruits of the Spirit as a down payment, and who has guaranteed the redemption of our bodies and the restoration of all things through the resurrection of His Son, Jesus Christ. Because He got up from the grave, we know that one day, all the groaning will cease, and will be replaced by the glorious liberty of the children of God.