A Broke Evangelist

December 3, 2024

Romans 11:25-27

God's Inclusive Covenant of Grace 

25I do not want you to be ignorant of this mystery, brothers and sisters, so that you may not be conceited: Israel has experienced a hardening in part until the full number of the Gentiles has come in, 26and in this way all Israel will be saved. As it is written: “The deliverer will come from Zion; he will turn godlessness away from Jacob. 27And this is my covenant with them when I take away their sins.”

Here in Central California, this time of year brings fog—lots of it. It’s one of the climate quirks this area is best known for, along with summer temperatures that feel like they’re straight off the surface of the sun! But our winters are mild, rarely dipping into the 20s and typically hitting the mid-50s most days during late fall and winter. That fog, though—it’s something else. Some days, I can’t even see my truck parked outside.

Every morning, the local news scrolls a chyron (you know, those words at the bottom of the screen) announcing “foggy day schedules” for schools. It’s a system that lets kids sleep in a little on days when visibility is particularly bad. I wish we’d had that when I was in school—imagine all the extra sleep I could’ve gotten!

When the fog rolls in, we adapt. We leave the house earlier, drive slower, and try to avoid the inevitable traffic jams caused by people who still haven’t figured out how to drive in fog. I’ve lived here for 65 years, and it amazes me that every single year, there’s a story about a 50-car pileup on the highway. All of it could be avoided if people would just slow down and look out for each other.

Years ago, when my daughters were in school, we signed them up for swimming. It was great exercise, taught teamwork, and gave them a chance to hang out with their friends. Practices were across town, about 8–10 miles away. On a good day, the drive took 20 minutes. On a bad day, a little longer.

At first, I’d try to rush—speeding up at yellow lights, weaving through traffic, doing everything short of sprouting wings. But I eventually learned that if I just took my time, I’d make it there faster—or at least in about the same time—and without the stress. It was like that old tortoise-and-hare fable: slow and steady really does win the race.

The same principle applies to typing. I’ve realized that when I slow down, I make fewer mistakes and actually get more done. And, since I type over 100 words a minute, I’m still moving fast even when I’m “slow.”

Life works the same way. The more we hurry, the more we miss out on the world around us. Paul reminds us of this too: we’re meant to enjoy being part of God’s family, not race around trying to earn our way in.

Paul explains more about it in Romans 11:25-27…

Romans 11:25 - I do not want you to be ignorant of this mystery, brothers and sisters, so that you may not be conceited: Israel has experienced a hardening in part until the full number of the Gentiles has come in,

The first thing that Paul mentions here is for not those who are reading his letter to be ignorant of “this mystery,” for which he is continuing about the falling away and rejection by Israel and why it has happened. Here, he explains the mystery as the interplay between Israel’s partial hardening and the salvation of the Gentiles. Israel’s rejection was not total, but partial in that some Jews had accepted Christ, while many have not. But this hardening is temporary and serves as a purpose in God’s plan. During this time, the gospel was (and still is) preached to the Gentiles and they are brought into God’s family, in fulfillment of the Old Testament prophecies about the nations coming to worship the God of Israel (Isaiah 49:6). Paul implies that this hardening will last "until the full number of the Gentiles has come in," suggesting that a future restoration of Israel is part of God's plan. So, there is a future for Israel and this restoration points toward a time when many from Israel will recognize Jesus as the Messiah. Paul reveals this mystery to prevent Gentile believers from becoming arrogant or thinking they have replaced Israel in God's plan (which is one of the underlying themes of this chapter). Instead, he emphasizes that God’s promises to Israel remain, and their eventual salvation is part of His overarching redemptive plan. This mystery underscores the depth of God's wisdom and the unity of His purposes in bringing both Jews and Gentiles together in Christ (Ephesians 3:6). It’s a call to humility, gratitude, and hope for the fulfillment of God's promises.

Romans 11:26 - and in this way all Israel will be saved. As it is written: “The deliverer will come from Zion; he will turn godlessness away from Jacob.

Obviously, Paul’s talking about Israel here, but not the super-spiritualized, metaphorical “Israel” some people like to imagine. This is real-deal Israel—the one with a passport, an ancient history, and, yes, a history of being spiritually stubborn. When we think about it, if Paul says this Israel is spiritually blind in Romans 11:25, then obviously, it’s not the shining beacon of “spiritual Israel” some might wish it to be. You can’t be spiritually blind and spiritual at the same time—it’s like wearing sunglasses at night and claiming you see the light. Differentiating between national and spiritual Israel can be complicated, but Paul is clear about this in other letters (Galatians 3:7), where he says faith makes you a child of Abraham. So, spiritual Israel exists, but Romans 11 is talking about the flesh-and-blood, historically stubborn, sometimes blind, national Israel. And here’s a newsflash: God’s not done with them. They’re still on His to-do list.

Paul called this whole thing a mystery, but it’s no mystery that people of faith (aka spiritual Israel) will be saved. That’s like saying it’s a mystery why people love puppies (although some don’t – now that’s mysterious). But the idea that God’s going to bring salvation to a nation that’s been, shall we say, dragging its spiritual feet? Now, that’s a twist. For anyone out there saying, “Well, Israel had its chance, and now the Church gets all their blessings,” Paul’s here waving a giant theological “WRONG!” sign. God’s promises to Israel—like those back in Genesis 13:15 and 17:7-8—still stand. You don’t RSVP to an eternal promise and then get uninvited.

At some point, Paul says, Israel as a whole—yes, the same Israel that’s been spiritually napping—will wake up and go, “Hey, Jesus really is the Messiah!” And they’ll embrace Him, not with some secret Jewish-only salvation plan, but through the same Jesus-and-grace combo the rest of us got. And this big spiritual wake-up call is tied to the return of Jesus Himself. Paul’s basically saying, “When Israel gets with the program, it’s go-time for the Second Coming.”

Romans 11:27 - And this is my covenant with them when I take away their sins.”

The Covenant—God sitting down with Israel, penning the ultimate "unbreakable promise" contract, saying, “I’ll take care of your sins. No fine print, no hidden fees, and no monthly subscription. Just grace.” This isn’t some flimsy handshake agreement; it’s God-level serious. Then, there’s the clean-up—after a wild party at someone’s house, one might see pizza boxes everywhere, confetti in the ceiling fan, maybe an actual raccoon in the kitchen (I woke up with a cat in my bed in my young, single heathen days after a night of partying, so it’s possible). Well, that big mess is Israel’s sin problem. But God’s not just dusting off a shelf; He’s rolling in with a divine clean-up crew. He’s saying, “Don’t worry, I got this. I’m taking all of it away.” And no, He’s not billing them later.

God’s covenant is like a backstage pass to eternal life. He’s promised to save Israel and, by extension, anyone who hops on board the Jesus train. And unlike human promises (remember that gym membership New Year’s resolution?), God’s covenant is ironclad. But, let’s not miss the drama here. God’s not just erasing sins; He’s obliterating them, like they never existed. Imagine if every bad decision, embarrassing moment, or awkward middle-school year just vanished. That’s the level of forgiveness God is promising. It’s like shaking your spiritual Etch A Sketch. What makes this hilariously amazing is that no one else promises to clean up our mess without complaining about it? No “I told you so,” no passive-aggressive reminders, no guilt trip. God’s telling us, “I’m taking care of this, and you’re going to live guilt-free. Period.” If that’s not the most ridiculously generous deal ever, I don’t know what is.

This whole sin-removal service isn’t just some random act of kindness. It’s all tied to Jesus, who paid the price so we wouldn’t have to. It’s like the ultimate "friend who picks up the tab" moment—except, instead of paying for dinner, He paid for every mistake you’ve ever made. And let’s be honest, that’s a pretty hefty bill. The bill is paid. In Greek, the word for this is “tetelestai.” When I was learning how to evangelize as a new believer, one of the things I was taught is that when Jesus died on the cross and said, “It is finished!” He was declaring the bill paid in full. The phrase, when translated into Greek, becomes one powerful word: “tetelestai.”

This word appears only twice in the New Testament, both in John 19. In verse 28, it says, “After this, when Jesus knew that all things were now completed, in order that the Scripture might be fulfilled, He said, ‘I thirst.’” Then, two verses later, Jesus utters the word Himself: “When He had received the sour wine, Jesus said, ‘It is finished.’ Then He bowed His head and gave up His spirit.”

In New Testament times, “tetelestai” was often written on business documents or receipts to show that a bill had been paid in full. So, when Jesus said this on the cross, it wasn’t just a declaration—it was a divine stamp on the cosmic invoice of sin, declaring, “Paid in full.”

Here’s the beauty of tetelestai: Jesus didn’t set up a payment plan or ask for installments. This isn’t salvation on layaway. He paid it all, right then and there. The cross wasn’t just a moment of suffering—it was the ultimate act of love, generosity, and cosmic debt cancellation. And He didn’t leave room for negotiation. It’s done. Finished. Period. So next time you think about all the ways you’ve fallen short, just remember the word tetelestai. Your sins aren’t hanging over you like unpaid parking tickets. They’re gone. Wiped clean. When Jesus said, “It is finished,” He meant it. And the best part? There’s no catch, no fine print, and no “terms and conditions may apply.” It’s the ultimate gift, wrapped in grace, stamped with love, and handed to you for free.

Now that’s something to laugh about, celebrate, and share with the world!

More to come…

A Broke Evangelist – December 3, 2024

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