It is not as though God’s word had failed. For not all who are descended from Israel are Israel. Nor because they are his descendants are they all Abraham’s children. On the contrary, “It is through Isaac that your offspring will be reckoned.” In other words, it is not the children by physical descent who are God’s children, but it is the children of the promise who are regarded as Abraham’s offspring. For this was how the promise was stated: “At the appointed time I will return, and Sarah will have a son.” Not only that, but Rebekah’s children were conceived at the same time by our father Isaac. Yet, before the twins were born or had done anything good or bad—in order that God’s purpose in election might stand: not by works but by him who calls—she was told, “The older will serve the younger.” Just as it is written: “Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated.” What then shall we say? Is God unjust? Not at all! For he says to Moses, “I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion.” It does not, therefore, depend on human desire or effort, but on God’s mercy. For Scripture says to Pharaoh: “I raised you up for this very purpose, that I might display my power in you and that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth.” Therefore God has mercy on whom he wants to have mercy, and he hardens whom he wants to harden. One of you will say to me: “Then why does God still blame us? For who is able to resist his will?” But who are you, a human being, to talk back to God? “Shall what is formed say to the one who formed it, ‘Why did you make me like this?’ ” Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for special purposes and some for common use? What if God, although choosing to show his wrath and make his power known, bore with great patience the objects of his wrath—prepared for destruction? What if he did this to make the riches of his glory known to the objects of his mercy, whom he prepared in advance for glory— even us, whom he also called, not only from the Jews but also from the Gentiles? As he says in Hosea: “I will call them ‘my people’ who are not my people; and I will call her ‘my loved one’ who is not my loved one,” and, “In the very place where it was said to them, ‘You are not my people,’ there they will be called ‘children of the living God.’ ” Isaiah cries out concerning Israel: “Though the number of the Israelites be like the sand by the sea, only the remnant will be saved. For the Lord will carry out his sentence on earth with speed and finality.” It is just as Isaiah said previously: “Unless the Lord Almighty had left us descendants, we would have become like Sodom, we would have been like Gomorrah.”
— Romans 9:6-29

~~~~~

Simply In Awe of Gods Mercy To Me, A Sinner
By Jennifer Kane

We speak of fairness
as if we invented it—
as if the clay could understand
the intentions of the Potter
or question His hands
when they press too hard
or too gently
against the spinning wheel.

We think mercy is owed to us
because we feel sorry for ourselves.
We confuse emotion
for righteousness.
We name our sentimentality
“love,”
but God’s love
is not a watered-down kindness—
it is holy.
Untamed.
Free.

He chose Jacob.
Not because he was good—
Jacob was a trickster,
a heel-grabber.
But God chose.
Not because of what they had done,
but because of who He is.

We wince for Esau,
cry “injustice” for Pharaoh,
weep for those who seem
left outside.
But do we understand
what we deserve?

The wages of sin
are not light.
We do not bargain
from a place of strength.
We are beggars
with opinions.

Yet God,
rich in mercy,
calls out—
not to the strong,
not to the best behaved,
not even to the expected—
but to the ones
He has chosen.

Some from Israel,
some from elsewhere—
a remnant,
a people not His people,
becoming His.

We want everyone saved—
of course we do.
But salvation is not a democratic vote,
not an entitlement handed out
like a birthright.
It is mercy.
Pure and burning.
Mercy that makes no apologies
for not bending to our logic.

God endures vessels of wrath
with patience—
not because He is weak,
but because His glory
must be revealed.
Even in justice.
Even in judgment.

We are not the center of the story.
He is.

And if He shows compassion,
if He reaches into the fire
and pulls out
even one
who should have perished—
then that is more mercy
than we ever
had the right
to expect.

~~~~~

Scripture: Romans 9:6-29

It is a fearful and humbling truth: we all deserve wrath. None of us can claim innocence before the holiness of God. Like clay from the same lump, we are all formed from the dust, marred by sin, and shaped by weakness. And yet—by mercy, not merit—God sets some apart to receive His promise.

Romans 9 shatters any illusions of entitlement. God’s plan has not failed. “For they are not all Israel who are of Israel… but the children of the promise are counted as the seed” (Romans 9:6–8). His covenant was never about bloodline alone. It was about calling, mercy, and His sovereign will. Isaac was chosen over Ishmael. Jacob over Esau. Not because they were better or earned it—but because God called them according to His purpose.

In verses 14–16, Paul anticipates our cry: “Is that fair?” But how can the clay question the potter? Who are we to demand that mercy be doled out as if we are owed it? Mercy, by its nature, is undeserved. God is not unjust to judge sin, nor is He unjust when He shows compassion. In fact, if mercy were deserved, it would cease to be mercy.

Paul brings Pharaoh into the picture—not as a tragic puppet, but as one whose heart was already rebellious, whom God used to display His power. God’s justice and mercy are not opposing forces—they are twin streams that flow from His holy character. Both bring Him glory: mercy, in pardoning the unworthy; justice, in punishing evil.

And yet, the beauty of the gospel is this: while all are vessels of wrath by nature, God has prepared some to be vessels of mercy (Romans 9:23). This is not because we ran harder, willed stronger, or obeyed better. It is because God chose to show mercy—and that mercy is offered in Jesus Christ, crucified and risen, to both Jew and Gentile.

We tremble at the justice of God, and rightly so. But let us also be amazed that anyone is saved. Spurgeon once said, “The real marvel is not that God hated Esau—but that He loved Jacob.” That is our marvel too: not that some are lost, but that anyone is redeemed. Because if salvation depended on human strength or works, none would be saved. But God is rich in mercy (Ephesians 2:4). And by His grace, some vessels of wrath become vessels of mercy.

Do I recognize the justice of God in what I deserve—and the mercy of God in what He has given through Jesus?
Am I humbled, not boastful, about my salvation?
How can I extend compassion to others, knowing that I, too, have received mercy?

Take a moment to pray today—not for what you want, but in awe of what you’ve been spared. Thank God that you are a vessel of mercy, not because of who you are, but because of who He is. Share this mercy with someone who needs it—not with superiority, but with deep humility.

~~~~~

Merciful Father, my holy and just God, I tremble at Your power and I bow before Your mercy. I confess that I deserve wrath, yet You have shown me compassion through Christ. Help me to live as a vessel of mercy—humbled, thankful, and willing to reflect Your grace to others. May I never take Your mercy for granted. Jesus thank you for your mercy ànd sacrifice for me, amen.

June 1 2015