What caused people like St. Paul to spend their entire lives crisscrossing the world, when Alexander's armies eventually wore out and turned back home? And why should we modern soldiers of the cross do the same today? Paul gives us the answer in the final three verses of his letter to the Romans: If you want to be happy, lower expectations. If you want to taste greatness, raise them.
Sampson was a he-man with a she-weakness. Tamar committed incest. Rahab was the town prostitute. Ruth was an outcaste pagan. Bathsheeba was an adulteress. But like a dad fighting a gator with his boy in its jaws, our heavenly Father grabbed hold of them and refused to allow them to go under. In Romans 16, St. Paul talks to us about guarding ourselves against predators. But he doesn't focus so much on them as he does on our Father in heaven. The takeaway from this passage is, You can try to take me under, but my Daddy won't let me go.
There are two seemingly insignificant names in a long list of greetings in Romans 16: Priscilla and Aquila. Though we know little about them, a single line leaps off the page in verse four: “They risked their lives for me.” Their lives teach us a profound principle that I think can be captured in a simple but memorable phrase: Ships are safe in the harbor, but that’s not what ships are for.
What is the heart of the gospel? John 3:16 says, “For God so loved the world that he gave his Only Begotten Son…” The God of glory stooped down to become a little baby in a little village stable. He served beggars, prostitutes, and misfits. St. Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 8:9, “…yet for your sakes he became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich.” No one is ever little when he stoops down to make others greater.
Site by: Project o3, LLC