A Broke Evangelist

December 4, 2024

Romans 11:28-32

God's Love and Calling for Israel

“28As far as the gospel is concerned, they are enemies for your sake; but as far as election is concerned, they are loved on account of the patriarchs, 29for God’s gifts and his call are irrevocable. 30Just as you who were at one time disobedient to God have now received mercy as a result of their disobedience, 31so they too have now become disobedient in order that they too may now receive mercy as a result of God’s mercy to you. 32For God has bound everyone over to disobedience so that he may have mercy on them all.”

Between the ages of six and twelve, I experienced the most dramatic downgrade in my young life. I moved from a suburban utopia on Fresno’s north side—where we had front lawns, bike rides, and neighbors who actually waved, where my biggest social challenge was to stop the ice cream truck when it came by—to my parents’ first home in central Fresno. This house wasn’t just “vintage”; it was the kind of vintage that said “please fix me.” My parents had bought it when they got married, and apparently, it came with a free side of character-building opportunities for me.

The neighborhood? Let’s just say it was “diverse”—by 1970s standards. Back then, we categorized people into four groups: White, Negro, Mexican, and Oriental. Forget nuances. Diversity meant “we see your color, and we have a box for you.” Southeast Asians? Middle Easterners? Sorry, they weren’t even on the Fresno radar yet. If you were White but spoke Spanish, congrats—you were Mexican. Accuracy didn’t matter; simplicity did. It was like assembling IKEA furniture but with people.

Stereotypes? Oh, we had them. Asians got straight A’s, White kids got all the classroom glory, African American kids dominated on the playground, and us Mexicans? We cornered the market on fighting, detention, and bullying each other. We were like a live-action telenovela with extra bruises.

My transition from north side suburban bliss to central Fresno chaos was like going from Disneyland to the DMV. My old school had its own categories—Blonde, Brunette, Redhead, and Mexicans—and we only had three Mexicans. Asians got lumped in with us, so we shared our taco-flavored crayons. The school was 96% White, but we didn’t care. Ethnic tension wasn’t a thing when you were busy wetting your pants, forgetting your lunch, or crying over a broken crayon. My best friend, David, was Asian, and we had a blast together. Our moms even became friends, but when I moved, I lost touch with him. Wherever you are, David, I hope you’re thriving.

Now, central Fresno was a whole different vibe. The neighborhood was older, the community spirit had evaporated, and the local kids made Lord of the Flies look like a daycare. I had no problem with the Asian and White kids, and I even made friends with an African American boy. But the Mexican kids? Oh boy. They were tough, mean, and seemed audition-ready for the prison gang movie “American Me.” Some of them did grow up to be convicted felons, while others never left home and are still occupying the same house their parents died in. One kid had a habit of picking his nose and wiping it on people—true story. He’s probably a politician now.

School became my personal nightmare. Every morning, my stomach churned as I got ready. Walking to school felt like marching to my execution. I dreaded weekdays and lived for weekends, holidays, and summer. During high school, things improved. We moved to a better neighborhood, and my new school had normal kids—or at least, kids who didn’t try to smear boogers on me. High school was fun, but by then I had PTSD from the trauma of elementary school. I developed terrible sleeping habits and was a mediocre student at best. Still, I graduated and eventually became a decent husband (check with my wife for confirmation), a solid dad (my daughters might argue), and an amazing dog grandpa (my dogs agree wholeheartedly).

Today, I look at the world and think, “Thank God I’m not a kid now.” Diversity has turned into a social landmine. Ethnicities, genders, sexual identities—it’s like playing Twister with no spinner. Back in my day, bullies punched you because they were mean, not because they were trying to guilt you into joining their worldview. Simple times, simple crimes.

Oh, and speaking of crime, I read about an insurance exec who got assassinated in Manhattan. Rumor has it, he made someone very mad by denying their claim. While I understand being upset, that level of revenge isn’t the answer. Life wrongs all of us at some point. The key is putting things into perspective—someone always has it worse (or better).

Looking back, my rough childhood taught me resilience, humor, and a knack for sniffing out nonsense. My hope is to use my experiences to help others get through their own tough times with a laugh or two along the way. And as we approach the holidays, let’s remember the true reason for the season. Thanks to God’s mercy, we can celebrate salvation and the birth of our Savior.

If Paul were here, I think he’d agree: life’s a mess, but it’s a mess worth navigating. As we get near the end of Romans 11, Paul lays it out beautifully for us in Romans 11:28-32…

Romans 11:28 - As far as the gospel is concerned, they are enemies for your sake; but as far as election is concerned, they are loved on account of the patriarchs, 

Back in Paul’s day, the Jews seemed to have a bit of a complicated relationship with God. On one hand, they were doing their best impression of being His arch-nemesis by opposing Jesus and His teachings. On the other hand, God was like that parent who keeps loving their kid even after they’ve colored on the walls with permanent markers. Why? Because the Jews had some impressive ancestors—Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the patriarchal “dream team” of the Old Testament. But we’ve been there: sitting at a family gathering during Thanksgiving, only to be in the same room as a relative who’s slightly unbearable but is still the golden child because “they take after Grandma!” We all get it. Doesn’t seem fair. But God wasn’t about to cancel His people. "The fathers" had left such a solid legacy that God’s love for their descendants was a sure thing—even if the descendants were currently acting like they didn’t know Him.

There’s more, though: They weren’t just beloved because of their patriarchal pedigree. That’s just the beginning. Imagine inheriting a mansion we didn’t build or finding out we’ve got a trust fund because Grandpa invented something important like Velcro. Sure, the Jews weren’t acting particularly lovable at the time, but God’s love is the kind that sees beyond the current mess to the bigger story.

So yes, if it were only for the sake of the fathers, that would already be plenty of reason for God’s unwavering love. But since it’s God we’re talking about, you know there’s a lot more to it. He’s the original “love conquers all” kind of God, and His promises aren’t just stuck in the past—they’re alive, kicking, and still unfolding. As has been the underlying message throughout this chapter, God’s love isn’t based on performance, good behavior, or a spotless record (thank goodness!). It’s rooted in His faithfulness, the promises He made, and the love He never stops giving—even when people are making it difficult. And really, if God could still love them through all of that, I think we can trust He’s got us covered, too. Just don’t color on His walls.

Romans 11:29 - for God’s gifts and his call are irrevocable.

The gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable. In other words, when God gives us something, it’s ours to keep—no returns, no exchanges, no receipts required. Paul drops this truth bomb to explain why God hasn’t thrown in the towel on national and ethnic Israel. One would think after all their ups and downs, God might be tempted to say, “Okay, I’ve had enough. You guys are on your own now.” But no, God isn’t that one friend who borrows your stuff and “forgets” to give it back. He’s the opposite: He gives us gifts and callings, and they’re ours forever—even if we’re being total boneheads about it. Now, here’s where it gets even better. This principle isn’t just for Israel; it’s for us too. God doesn’t have an “oops, never mind” clause in His promises. You know how some companies sneak in fine print that says they can cancel the warranty if coffee gets spilled on our laptop or look at it funny? Yeah, God doesn’t do that. His calling is permanent—like a tattoo, but without regret when we’re 80.

When you think about is, it’s comforting to know that God doesn’t revoke His gifts like a stingy Santa? He doesn’t peek into our life and go, “Hmm, you’ve really been slacking lately, so I’m going to need that gift of faith back. And while we’re at it, hand over your calling, too. You’re clearly not using it.” Nope! He leaves the path open for restoration no matter how far we wander or how much of a mess we make. Imagine if God did revoke things. “Oh, you lied? That’s it—no more peace for you! Lost your temper in traffic? There goes your calling to ministry!” We’d all be doomed. Thankfully, God isn’t like that. He’s the ultimate ride-or-die, sticking with us even when we’re about as dependable as a Wi-Fi signal in the mountains.

For Israel, this means that God’s promises still stand, no matter how many detours they’ve taken. And for us? It’s a reminder that no matter how much we stumble, fumble, or flat-out fail, God hasn’t given up on us. That gift He gave us? It’s still there. That calling He placed on our life? It’s still waiting. He’s like the ultimate GPS, constantly recalculating to get us back on track, no matter how many wrong turns we’ve taken. So, take heart. God doesn’t ghost us. He doesn’t give up on us. And His gifts don’t come with an expiration date. In fact, He’s probably looking at us and thinking, “I’ve got so much in store for you—just get back on the road already!”

And hey, if God hasn’t given up on Israel after their track record, I think it’s safe to say He’s got plenty of patience left for all of us.

Romans 11:30 - Just as you who were at one time disobedient to God have now received mercy as a result of their disobedience,

Paul’s calling it like it is here—he’s talking to the Gentile Christians, and let’s just say their past wasn’t exactly a highlight reel of godly behavior. These were the folks who had been running around worshiping statues, inventing wild parties, and basically living their best disobedient lives. If there was a prize for missing the mark, they’d have been in the running. But here’s where it gets wild: even with all that spiritual chaos, God looked at them and said, “You know what? I’m going to show you mercy anyway.” It’s like they showed up at God’s house with muddy boots, knocked over the furniture, and He still invited them to stay for dinner. That’s how mercy works—it’s not about earning it. And the twist here is that their mercy pipeline got a boost from Israel’s own disobedience. Israel, God’s chosen people, decided to take a scenic detour from obedience. They had the golden ticket to a close relationship with God, but they sometimes acted like they lost it in the laundry. So, while Israel was off doing its own thing, God said, “Hey Gentiles, since Israel’s not using this opportunity right now, how about you jump in?” It’s like when a sibling doesn’t want the last slice of pizza, and we swoop in before anyone can change their mind.

Now, to be clear, this wasn’t some divine “oops” moment. God didn’t accidentally hit the wrong button and bless the Gentiles by mistake. This was part of the plan all along—a masterclass in turning disobedience into an opportunity for mercy. God’s like the ultimate life coach, taking every setback and turning it into a setup for something amazing. For the Gentiles, this was a major upgrade. One minute, they were spiritual outcasts, and the next, they were in the VIP section of God’s plan. It’s like being bumped up to first class on a flight when you were prepared to sit by the bathroom. And for Israel, their time of disobedience wasn’t the end of the story. God didn’t kick them out of the family. He was just hitting the “pause” button on their playlist while creating a new track for the Gentiles. Eventually, everyone gets back in the mix—it’s the ultimate reunion tour, and nobody’s left out.

So, the takeaway here is that God’s mercy is ridiculously, hilariously generous. He doesn’t play favorites, He doesn’t hold grudges, and He’s always working on a bigger plan than we can see. Whether one is a Gentile who used to worship a rock or an Israelite who missed the memo, God’s mercy is there, waiting for us to take the next step. And whenever we feel like we’ve been too disobedient for God’s love, just remember: He’s been flipping disobedience into mercy for centuries. None of us are going to surprise Him.

Romans 11:31 - so they too have now become disobedient in order that they too may now receive mercy as a result of God’s mercy to you.

We need to take time to unpack this because it’s a masterpiece of divine plot twists. Israel’s disobedience accidentally opens the door for the Gentiles to waltz into God’s mercy like they’ve just been invited to the party of the century. And now, Paul is saying, “Guess what? That same mercy is going to boomerang back around to bless Israel!” Here’s how it works: Israel, in a moment of collective rebellion, basically says, “Nah, we’re good,” to God’s plan. Picture them as the kid who gets a shiny new toy and then tosses it aside because they’re too busy stomping off with hurt feelings. Meanwhile, the Gentiles—who had been hanging out in the corner with no clue a party was even happening—get handed the toy and are like, “Wait, this is for us? Sweet!”

But God doesn’t stop there. He’s not just going to let Israel sit in the corner sulking forever. He’s got a plan. The mercy shown to the Gentiles isn’t just a random act of kindness; it’s part of a bigger, genius-level strategy to get Israel to come back around. It’s like when one kid gets ice cream, and the other kid suddenly decides they do want to clean their room after all. And there is some humor here in that the Gentiles, who were once running around clueless, are now part of the plan to make Israel jealous enough to want God’s mercy back. It’s almost as if God said, “Fine, if you don’t want it, I’ll just give it to someone else. Oh, look—they love it! Are you sure you don’t want some?” Classic reverse psychology. The takeaway here is that God’s mercy isn’t just for the “good kids” or the ones who’ve got it all figured out. He’s in the business of flipping mistakes, rebellion, and even full-blown disobedience into opportunities for grace. If He can pull off a redemption arc for both Israel and the Gentiles using this strategy, imagine what He can do with our messes.

Romans 11:32 - For God has bound everyone over to disobedience so that he may have mercy on them all.

Paul saves his big finish to lay it out for everyone: Everyone has been disobedient at some point. The Jews—check. The Gentiles—double check. A nosy friend who is always in our business. Yep. Don’t forget that guy who cuts us off in traffic. He’s on the list too.

But God didn’t let everyone mess up just to shake His head in disappointment and go, “There’s no hope for these guys.” No, He had a master plan all along. He’s not handing out detention slips; He’s handing out mercy. It’s like a redemption version of a plot twist in a feel-good movie. Everyone’s sitting there, thinking they’re doomed because they totally blew it, and then BAM! God flips the script. He’s saying, “I’m not here to play favorites—I’m here to write the most epic comeback story ever.” Disobedience? That was just the setup. Mercy? That’s the grand finale. So next time we’re feeling like we’ve seriously messed up, remember this: God’s got mercy for days. It’s not just a second chance; it’s a get-back-up-every-time chance. And yeah, even that guy who cuts us off—he’s in on it too. That’s just how God rolls.

More to come…

A Broke Evangelist – December 4, 2024

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