Death is at Work in Us: A Lenten Sermon from 2 Cor 4.7-12
Posted on 26 February 2010
Table of contents for On Death: Lenten Reflections
- Thinking Death Christianly
- Suffering with Christ for Sin(ners)
- Dying Christianly?
- Death is at Work in Us: A Lenten Sermon from 2 Cor 4.7-12
- Imaging Death
- Suffocating Christ: the Destructive Power of our Sins
- Loving Our Children by Dying Well
7But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. 8We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. 10We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 11For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body. 12So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.
1.
Our readings of these verses almost always stress the second beat: ‘not crushed’, ‘not in despair’, ‘not abandoned’, ‘not destroyed’. In truth, however, faith does not confess only what is not the case – thanks to God’s power and wisdom – but also what is the case: ‘hard-pressed’, ‘perplexed’, ‘persecuted’, ‘struck down’. Lent is a season in which we learn to speak faithfully about these realities, too. 1
Usually, we talk of Jesus’ death as substitutionary, as happening in our place; as if Jesus’ death saves us from dying. The truth is, Jesus’ death makes possible our death; the substitution, as Volf says, is inclusive, not exclusive. 2
Jesus’ death makes it possible for us to die in hope, as a last act of love. It also makes it possible for us to experience the sorrows and tragedies of both life and death faithfully. But we must not talk exclusively of Jesus’ life; we must also talk of Jesus’ death and how it is at work in us.
2.
What does it mean to ‘carry’ Jesus’ death in our bodies? What does it mean to be ‘always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake’? I think it means, quite straightforwardly, putting ourselves at the mercy of our neighbors and enemies, entering into relationships with people in order to serve them and be served by them – which means that they have the power to harm us, if not to destroy us. It means living open to their judgment, risking submission to them, and living joyfully with the wounds that result from such a life, which are, as Paul knows, the marks of Christ (Gal 6.17).
A life of this kind requires, among other things, using our bodies in certain ways: being present here, saying this, listening to them, watching that with utmost care, and often ignoring everything else. It means knowing when and how to touch our neighbor, when to embrace and when to refrain from embracing.
All of this bodily action – this listening and talking, this touching and being touched – is awesomely risky. It involves us in real interaction with real people, and that kind of interaction impacts us in very real ways. There is always more going on in our interactions with one another than we can possibly calculate or quantify. The truth is, every genuinely human encounter marks us eternally; it works in us both death and life. When we live in Christ, and through him engage others, we find that every encounter is both a life-bringing and death-dealing event, and one because it is the other.
3.
The ‘death’ Paul is experiencing is, at least in part, the death of rejection; the Corinthians have divorced themselves from him, shaming him by their public disavowal of his apostolate. This ‘death’, however, he recognizes as a gift for them, as an opportunity for Christ to intervene, as a space for the Kingdom to break into the world, a gateway for the Spirit. If Paul ‘dies’ rightly, then they – the very ones who put him to death – can experience life!
The Christo-logic of Paul’s response is unmistakable, and, for those of us lead by the Spirit, enthralling and commanding. We must learn to respond this way; we must learn to carry Jesus’ death in our bodies, to let his death ‘work’ in us. As difficult as it might be, it isn’t complicated. It simply requires using our bodies in the ways that Paul did, and allowing God to situate us among those who do us harm, intentionally or not, empowering us to receive this ‘crucifixion’ with Jesus’ own faithfulness.
Easier said then done? Yes. But doable nonetheless.
- Speaking faithfully is not identical with speaking honestly, at least not in the sense we often think of it. It is not enough to speak our mind or to say how we feel. ↩
- Jesus’ death (and life) does save us from what the Apocalypse calls ‘second death’, and in that sense – a sense explored by von Balthasar, et. al., – his death is exclusively substitionary. ↩
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