Based on a sermon on Romans 11 by Pastor Michael Leader of Beverly Hills Baptist Church

It’s easy to create an ‘us’ and a ‘them’.

In our world, in our politics, even in our faith. It’s a human instinct. We find our group, draw our line, and start feeling a little smug about being on the right side of it.

In a letter to the early church in Rome, the apostle Paul saw this happening. The non-Jewish (Gentile) Christians were getting arrogant, looking down on the Jewish people who hadn’t accepted Jesus.

Paul tells them: stop. And his warning is one we need to hear today.

The wild branch

He says it like this.

Think of God’s people as an ancient olive tree, with roots deep in Jewish history – the patriarchs, the prophets, the promises. When many of the natural branches (the Jewish people) rejected Jesus, they were broken off.

Then God does something wild. He takes branches from a wild olive tree – that’s you, the Gentiles – and grafts them into this ancient, cultivated tree. You didn’t belong, but now you’re part of it, drawing life from a root that isn’t yours.

It’s a picture of pure grace. You’re in the family not because you earned it, but because you were invited.

A fearless warning: don’t get arrogant

This is where Paul gets brutally direct. He tells the new believers, “Do not boast over those branches.”

He says, “You do not support the root, but the root supports you.”

This isn’t your tree. You are a guest here. You stand by faith, not by being smarter or better or more righteous. Be afraid of the arrogance that makes you think you’re better than the original branches. If God didn’t spare them when they fell into unbelief, He won’t spare you either.

This isn’t just about anti-Semitism. It’s about every division we create in the church.

Race, status, intelligence, age. We are all wild branches, saved by the same grace, held by the same root. There is no us and them. There is only the family we’ve been invited into.

Live a life that makes people envious

So what should our attitude be? Paul says our lives should make others envious.

Not of our cars or our houses.

But of our peace. Our joy in hard times. Our courage.

Would someone look at your life and say, “I want what they have”? When they see how you navigate crisis, how you love your enemies, how you live with a quiet confidence, does it spark a question in their heart?

That’s the kind of envy that saves people. It’s an intrigue that opens the door for a conversation about the hope that you have.

Trust God with the mystery

Now, Paul dives into some deep, mysterious waters, talking about a day when “all Israel will be saved.” Scholars have debated for centuries what this means. Will there be a mass conversion of Jewish people at the end of time? Is “Israel” the complete church of Jews and Gentiles?

Paul’s conclusion isn’t a neat answer. It’s a hymn of awe.

“Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out!”

In other words: you don’t have to understand everything. Your job is not to decode God’s master plan or solve global politics.

Your job is to trust Him.

Your job is to tell people about Jesus.

Your job is to live a life of humble, envious faith.

In a world torn apart by conflict, like the one in Israel and Gaza, this is our calling. We pray. We recognize that both sides need Jesus. We show compassion. And we refuse to get distracted from the main thing: sharing the good news that grafts us all into one family, held securely by a root we did not plant.