A Broke Evangelist

November 29, 2024

Romans 11:7-10

Spiritual Bites Going Wrong

“7 What then? What the people of Israel sought so earnestly they did not obtain. The elect among them did, but the others were hardened, 8 as it is written: “God gave them a spirit of stupor, eyes that could not see and ears that could not hear, to this very day.” 9 And David says: “May their table become a snare and a trap, a stumbling block and a retribution for them. 10 May their eyes be darkened so they cannot see, and their backs be bent forever.“

Today is the day after Thanksgiving—when we all collectively roll out of bed still stuffed from yesterday, wondering if it's socially acceptable to eat leftover pumpkin pie for breakfast (spoiler: it is). For some, it’s a day of adrenaline-filled consumer combat, throwing elbows over TVs at Walmart or tackling strangers for an air fryer at Best Buy. For others, it’s a more civilized affair—window-shopping at fancy boutiques, sipping peppermint lattes, and pretending to look for gifts while secretly shopping for themselves.

As for me, I skipped the chaos and stuck to the holy trinity of post-Turkey Day activities: napping, streaming TV, and watching football. And boy, it was worth it! I flipped to see the end of one game: Georgia Tech nearly pulled off the upset of the century, almost beating Georgia on their own turf! It was a game so wild; it went into eight—yes, eight—overtimes. That’s practically an entire second game, but with way more drama and fewer bathroom breaks.

The whole thing was a nail-biter. The Yellow Jackets were buzzing, swarming the Bulldogs with some serious plays. But Georgia—being Georgia—did what they do best: stayed calm, bided their time, and pounced when it mattered most. By the end of the game, even the mascots looked like they needed a stretcher and a Gatorade. Uga the Bulldog was too tired to beg for a Milk-Bone! The Yellow Jackets had their moments to shine but couldn’t quite seal the deal. Meanwhile, the Bulldogs did what Bulldogs do best—hung in there, outlasting the sting, and pounced when it counted.

But the real kicker (not the guy who kicks the football) was the postgame moment at midfield. Picture this: the two coaches meet at the fifty-yard line, and suddenly the Georgia Tech coach starts crying—like full-on “someone-finished-the-mashed-potatoes-before-I-got-seconds” sobbing. He was hugging the Georgia coach like they’d just survived a war together. Honestly, I couldn’t tell if it was exhaustion, respect, or the crushing realization that he’d have to explain the loss to his mother-in-law.

And that’s the beauty of football (and life). It’s messy, it’s emotional, and sometimes it leaves you in a puddle of your own feelings. Whether you're battling on the gridiron or just surviving Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving always has its moments—stretchy pants and all.

And isn’t that how life feels sometimes? Whether it’s football or the grind of everyday life, we’re all out here battling for something: a big goal, a dream, or maybe just surviving the day without losing it over slow Wi-Fi. We push, we struggle, we celebrate small victories, and we stumble. And when the dust settles—whether we win, lose, or end up in overtime—we look back on the journey and think, “Whoa, that was a lot.”

I remember the first time I shared my testimony in front of a crowd. Picture this: 50 or 60 people staring at me, and the host calls me up to share my story. No pressure, right? I was a new believer, still figuring out how to talk about this whole “new life in Christ” thing without sounding like I’d just read a brochure.

As I started to speak, it hit me—hard. I hadn’t realized until that moment how far my wife and I had come. We’d left behind chaos and heartache, and for the first time, we were living with peace and joy. Cue the emotions. It was like a dam burst inside me. I froze, realizing if I kept going, I’d be bawling like a toddler who just dropped their ice cream. I managed to pull it together, but my voice came out all wobbly—like I was doing a Katharine Hepburn impression (if you don’t know her, Google it—you’ll thank me later).

Here’s the funny thing: nobody cared that I sounded like a mess. My words, imperfect as they were, resonated with people. It was like God was saying, “I don’t need you to be polished; I just need you to be willing.” And that stuck with me.

Now, years later, I think back to that day and laugh. But I also see how powerful it was. God doesn’t require us to be eloquent, perfect, or put-together when we honor Him. He just wants us to show up, raw emotions and all.

Someday, I hope to share my testimony with a roomful of people again. This time, I’ve got even more to say: more struggles, more victories, more stories of God showing up in the messiest parts of my life. And who knows? Maybe this time, I’ll manage to speak without sounding like a wobbly-voiced Hollywood legend.

But if not, well...maybe God’s into Katharine Hepburn impressions.

So, let’s dig in more with what Paul has to share in Romans 11:7-10…

Romans 11:7 - What then? What the people of Israel sought so earnestly they did not obtain. The elect among them did, but the others were hardened,

So, let’s picture this: the people of Israel are like on a treasure hunt, working hard, sweating bullets, and scouring every nook and cranny for that golden prize—the ultimate spiritual jackpot. They’re really going for it, like it’s the last Black Friday deal on a flat screen TV. But they don’t find it (cue the sad trombone). But now, a select group, who are identified as “the elect” by Paul does find it. Imagine these folks strolling in casually, like, “Oh hey, is this the prize everyone’s looking for? Cool, we’ll take it.” It’s like sitting in the stands watching a foul ball bounce into my lap after watching everyone fight for it in front of me. Meanwhile, the rest of the crowd? Their hearts harden faster than day-old dinner rolls (which never exist in my house). Or (in homage to my son-in-law, who is also named Paul) it’s like that one friend who really wants to win at Monopoly, spends the whole game buying up all the properties, and somehow still goes bankrupt while someone else lands on Boardwalk once and takes the crown. That’s no fun. For the record, Paul and I tried to become robber barons the last time we played Monopoly at my house and my wife and daughter (his wife) never forgave us. I think my daughter grabbed the board and threw it across the room.

The message here is deep, and it’s not about being a gracious loser at Monopoly: it’s not about working harder or trying to force something to happen. It’s about opening your heart, being willing to receive, and letting God do His thing. But man, when you’re on the “hardened hearts” team, it’s got to feel like losing a game of hide-and-seek because you hid too well and everyone else went home.

So, the moral of this story? Don’t let your heart turn into a stale bagel…or dinner roll. Stay open, stay humble, and maybe—just maybe—you’ll find the treasure. Or at least avoid the sad trombone.

Romans 11:8 - as it is written: “God gave them a spirit of stupor, eyes that could not see and ears that could not hear, this very day.”

Paul referred to Isaiah to refer to those who are suffering from a case of the “stupids” (as my late stepfather used to call it) and likened their condition to one who was unable to see or hear anything. But if you’ve been in any part of a political discussion, you might see that there are some people who are so obstinate to see your clear and eloquent perspective on the way things should be. It’s especially that way regarding spiritual things. There is so much heresy out there on social media that would prove beyond a reasonable doubt that disinformation truly exists.

So, God’s out here, doing His thing, and sometimes—because He’s God and can do what He wants—He hands out a spirit of stupor. What’s that, you ask? Well, it’s basically like being spiritually zonked. Imagine trying to watch an intense documentary about quantum physics after a huge Thanksgiving meal—your eyes are open, but your brain is not taking any of it in. That’s the gist of it.  And get this: God can darken someone’s vision and give them a full-on spiritual snooze button if He feels like it. Why? Because He’s God, and He doesn’t need our permission to run the universe. He’s like, “I created light, darkness, and gravity—trust me, I’ve got this.”

Right now, Paul’s explaining that God’s got a plan, and it involves enlightening only a remnant of Israel at this moment. Like a limited-edition release or, even worse, when Ticketmaster releases tickets to the latest Taylor Swift concert, where only the lucky few get the tickets while people like my daughter are left refreshing the page, screaming, “NOOOOOOOOO!” as the concert is sold out in 47 seconds.

But don’t get it twisted—this “spirit of stupor” isn’t some random punishment. It’s more like when I’m trying to explain tax law to my dog Buster. Poor Buster isn’t ready for that level of understanding yet. All he understands is “cookie” and “outside” and when to sit at my feet while I’m eating. It’s not Buster’s fault, and it’s not tax law’s fault (well, it is a little because I can’t even figure it out); it’s just not the time.

So, a spirit of stupor is an attitude of total deadness toward spiritual things. It’s like being handed the best novel (or the Bible for many) of all time, but every time you try to read it, your brain says, “Nope, let’s stare at the ceiling instead.” God, in His infinite wisdom, sometimes lets people have that experience, but only for a season and always for a bigger purpose.

Here’s the thing to remember: If you’re spiritually awake and tuned in, thank God for the clarity—and maybe offer a prayer for those still stuck in snooze mode. And remember, when it comes to God's plans, He’s the author, editor, and publisher, so trust that the plot twists will make sense in the end!

Romans 11:9 - And David says: “May their table become a snare and a trap, a stumbling block and a retribution for them.

So this is quite the dramatic declaration from David, calling for a harsh dinner invitation. Basically, he’s saying, “May their table—the thing meant to bring comfort and joy—turn into their ultimate undoing.” In modern terms, it’s like hoping someone’s cozy dinner party turns into an episode of Hell’s Kitchen with Chef Ramsey in charge. So, picture sitting down for a meal thinking it’s all good—steak cooked to perfection, sides all hot and buttery—but then BAM! The steak knife falls off the table and stabs you in the leg, the gravy boat tips over onto your lap, and the saltshaker lid wasn’t screwed on tight. Total disaster. Their table has betrayed them, and it’s not even dessert yet!

The snare and a trap is like accidentally using Tia Rosita’s Mexican tamale recipe, only to realize she forgot to mention it’s a laxative bomb. Now everyone’s caught in the consequences, while “a stumbling block” would be like tripping over the table leg while running for the bathroom (it would look like Kevin spiling the chili in “The Office”). Or, and even worse, tripping over our own arrogance because we thought we were too good for potluck rules. David’s basically saying, “Let their overconfidence in their feast turn into a faceplant.”

And then we get to “retribution”—the big, scary word that screams, “This is what you get!” It’s as if the table itself is alive and plotting revenge. Maybe it’s upset about all the crumbs, or people not using coasters, or (oh no) pineapple on pizza. Either way, this isn’t an average passive piece of furniture; it’s taking action. So, what’s the takeaway here? David might be a bit dramatic, but he’s highlighting how the very things we rely on for comfort and joy can turn against us if we’re not careful. It’s a spiritual explosion in a dinner party gone wrong. He’s telling us to be humble, be grateful, and to maybe double-check our table setup before we sit down!

Romans 11:10 - May their eyes be darkened so they cannot see, and their backs be bent forever.”

This is some next-level poetic justice being served. It’s like the ancient version of, “I hope they lose the Wi-Fi password and their phone charger at the same time.” So, when we break it down, darkening of the eyes to become unable to see, is like walking around like someone who forgot to clean their glasses or smudged their phone screen—it’s all blurry, and they’re squinting, but they just can’t figure it out. Spiritually speaking, this means they’re out here in the dark, missing the big picture. Imagine being at a fireworks show with your eyes closed—totally missing out on what all the “oohs” and “ahhs” are about.

Now, the next part, where their backs are bent forever, makes me think about how bad it is to have such a long time with bad posture. It’s like carrying the world’s heaviest backpack filled with heavy regrets, bad decisions, and maybe a bowling ball or two. It’s like God’s saying, “You want to be stubborn? Okay, here’s a permanent reminder that stubbornness is a heavy load.” But from a modern perspective, if this were played out at a gym, we’d see the guy who refuses to follow the trainer’s advice and insists on lifting too much weight with terrible form, and—bam—now he’s stuck hunched over, groaning, “I’m good.” No, buddy, you aren’t.

The verse is a reminder that ignoring the signs or being too proud to change can lead to some pretty uncomfortable consequences. But hey, it’s also a little nudge to check our posture while we’re at it—both physically and spiritually. We don’t want to be the person squinting in the dark while carrying a boulder, right? Let’s just keep our hearts open, our spines straight, and maybe grab some glasses while we’re at it.

More to come…

A Broke Evangelist – November 29, 2024

Also on Substack:

Previous Day Next Day

November 2024