The Old South Church in Boston

The Old South Church in Boston

"Christ's Life Within Us"

Sermon by Lael P. Murphy

January 30, 2000

2 Corinthians 3: 4-6; 4: 7-15

Last fall ago I saw a preview for a movie that I've not been able to forget -- even though I chose never to see the film itself. It was for the latest James Bond flick, a three-minute clip that was filled with fast paced images of danger and adventure. In the middle of this short segment, Q, that older gentleman who both mentors Bond and develops all sorts of high tech, life saving gadgets, says to the handsome spy, "Remember what I always taught you Agent 007. Always have an escape route. And never let them see you bleed."

Hearing those words I was immediately struck by how contrary they are to the Christian experience. Making sense, perhaps, for Pierce Brosnan on a Hollywood sound stage, these two key phrases run in stark contrast to everything we learn by the life and ministry, the death and resurrection, of Jesus Christ. "Always have an escape route" presupposes the fact that we want to slip away, untouched by and uninvolved in threatening situations. "Never let them see you bleed,” demands a continual, if not masked, stature of strength and self-reliance. Unlike the teachings of our tradition that have death and sacrifice at its center, the adventures of 007 have been able to continue along for all these decades because the hero always makes it out. He's a master at getting even, getting loose, and yes, getting the girl.

The apostle Paul, on the other hand, is a different kind of master. Perhaps a combination of Q and his protégé, this man continually used his cunning and nerve to bring people into the faith and challenge of true community. Following the example of Christ this daring apostle was never too scared to let people see him bleed. Turning away from the easy way out, Paul was a prophet who readily entered into controversy and division, seeking to bring people along in the Christian way. No price was too high for this prophet who spent so much of his ministry writing letters from prison. This is a man devoted to sharing the love and truth of his God with no fear of getting caught.

That's where we find him in our reading this morning. Mired in the realities of making the best of a bad situation, Paul's scrambling to bring some peace and hope to the disciples of Corinth, a people who can't agree on how to live, morally, ethically, even spiritually. Working to set Christ's teachings straight in this letter he's expressing the need to be faithful to one another as much as to God. Rather than leaving them to their own devices, instead of freeing himself from their conflicts, Paul heads straight on in, writing letters when he can't send another teacher or go there himself. Determined to make this young Christian community work Paul's sense of mission is strong. He's working for the sake and glory of God.

And so we come to the verses before us. Beginning with the reminder that strength and inspiration comes from God, Paul is turning the Corinthians attention to the Source of their hope and faith. Vying for power and influence these are the people, after all, who needed to be reminded that love is the greatest of all spiritual gifts, not prophesy or the ability to speak in tongues or any other faithful talent -- a reminder that may not seem threatening to us since we most often hear that passage from first Corinthians quoted at weddings. But that wasn't the sort of forum the thirteenth chapter or any other of these passages was written for. On the contrary. These were documents sent to a place filled with heated and angry debate.

As paraphrased by a southern pastor, Clarence Jordan, in what he calls the Cotton Patch Version of Paul's Epistles our reading today opens with this warning: "Are we beginning to blow our own horn again? Or do we need, as some do, to exchange credentials with one another? We simply can't make the grade on our own. By ourselves we can't even get to first base. Our pep comes from God, who also fires us up to be champions of a new way of life consisting, not of a lot of talk, but of a new spirit. Words deaden, but the Spirit gives life."

Oh, they were a human lot, those Corinthians. Filled with the competitive spirit, thinking of their own place and gain, ignoring Christ's message of peace and reconciliation, these men and women needed Paul's reminders to be more faithful and kind. That simple yet profound image of the clay vessel brings to the forefront the reality that these were not perfect people but rather common, ordinary and even dispensable. "You're no fine china or heavy lead crystal," Paul's telling them. "But even still, God lives in you, works through you. Clay jars. The things you store your olives in every day of the week."

Lifting up their human nature in this way, Paul simultaneously raises the mercy and love of God. The apostle proclaims God's abiding care, assuring the Corinthians that no matter what hardships may come their way they'll be given the strength to persevere. In that string of phrases that highlights their suffering he's not being condescending. He's telling them that yes, life is hard, we're vulnerable and even weak, but in the midst of these struggles God is with us, offering strength, guidance, care. Through their own times of trial and dispute Paul is reminding those disciples that Jesus faced some pretty hard times, too. So he says to them, "Let the death of Jesus live in your body, so that that the life, the living Spirit of Christ can shine through you as well."

What did those Corinthians think of this message? How did they take Paul's words? We don't have a third letter to help us decipher the consequences of this one and so we can only surmise. How was Paul's message of hope received in such troubled times?

We get great theology in Paul's writings. Even though there are some portions of the epistles we may contend with, I believe there are as many others that provide wonderful hope and inspiration. In the overall theme of these letters as well as in this very portion of his text we see ways we're called to let God shine through our weakness, to allow the life of Christ to live through not just our talents but also our most broken places. Lifting up Jesus' death here in these verses we remember the sacrificial nature of our faith, that like Christ we may offer our hardships, our pain and sadness to be used as tools to help strengthen our own and others' faith. We're not just a "feel-good" religion, Paul is telling us. The Christian tradition is one that deals with the most difficult aspects of our days.

Being raised with Christ in this life means living, then, with the reality of the cross. Having this most compelling symbol at the center of our faith shows that the Christian message is one that brings together the peace and hope of God with the bitter truths of life. The cross, as it stands as an instrument of death and destruction, remains most prominently a place of redemption and resurrection. Just as its bars intersect, so does the awareness that with life comes the inevitability of dying; with love arrives the possibility of rejection; with hope arises contrasting despair. Bringing together the seeming contradictions of our time on this earth, Christ's redemptive Spirit teaches us that with the bad exists the good; that although suffering may come our way we are never alone in it. For as we sang together just a moment ago we trust that, "from tender childhood's helplessness, from human grief and burdened toil, from famished souls, from sorrows' stress, we know [God's] heart does not recoil." Yes, as people of faith we trust God's abiding presence in all our broken days, realizing that it's in our deepest human vulnerability that divine comfort takes root. As stated by the theologian Paul Claudel we remember that, "Jesus did not come to explain away suffering or remove it. He came to fill it with his presence."

Realizing we're called into the fray of life we can move, then, to help others. Acknowledging our pain, accepting the burdens life puts before us, we can better empathize with those in need around us. That's a second lesson that I believe exists within our reading today. Paul reminds those Corinthians of their common struggles in order that they may come into fuller common life. "Never let them see you bleed?" No. Unlike the advice given to James Bond Paul's reminding us all that like Christ we do bleed. Hiding our brokenness only adds to our pain through the bitterness of isolation, and while we needn't be flagrant about exhibiting our problems we are called to share them with trust and caring. Coming together in Christian community means just that: we confess our need for God's mercy and care with one another as well as celebrating the joys of our faith. One cannot truly exist without the other.

Living from such community, it's a natural extension, then, to share that life with others. Capturing the movement from belief to faithful sharing, Martin Buber writes in his classic text I and Thou, "The encounter with God does not come to man in order that he may henceforth attend to God but in order that he may prove its meaning in action in the world." Exactly. We come in contact with the life-giving source of our hope so that we may extend God's love to the hopeless, bringing Christ's mercy to the abandoned and oppressed. As Doug Mitchell's story about the campers illustrates so clearly, ours is a faith that says the task at hand is to make sure no one gets eaten by the bear.* We're not here to simply out run or out pray or out preach anyone. We're here to give our lives to service, to help the hopeless, to remember the forgotten, to speak up for those who can no longer utter their own defense. By the grace of God we're here to bring that grace to the suffering.

The saint Catherine of Siena once wrote, "There can be no perfect virtue, none that bears fruit, unless it be exercised by means of our neighbor." This is the call to service and compassion that we remember today, that as we come together in Christian community we do so with full hearts. Carrying the reality of our own lives with the mercy of God's tender care we come to be inspired to love and serve others as Christ came to love and serve us. The title to the latest James Bond film got that much straight: the world is not enough. We need God. We need eternal and abiding love. We need people like Paul and Doug Mitchell to come and give witness to the truth of our faith as its lived out in the wider community. "Yes,” Paul writes in the close of our passage, "everything is for your sake, so that grace, as it extends to more and more people, may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God." That's the hope we're chastened with. That's the truth at the heart of our faith. Our blessings are to be used to bless others, our Christian hope to bring peace to this broken world. As captured by the symbol of the cross and the compelling phrase used by Henri Nouwen to title a book on Christian ministry, we are asked to be wounded healers, offering our lives in joyful, devoted service. We are called, through the death of Christ, to let the glory of his resurrection live through all that we are and all that we do. It’s the life of Christ within us.

Let us pray.

O merciful God, you lead us to such transformation. You guide us with such tender care. Transform us a new, we pray, that even our most broken places may be used to serve your world. Help us, O God, to be instruments of your peace and compassion, this day and in all our days to come.

Amen.

SCRIPTURE READING

New Revised Standard Version

2 Corinthians 3: 4-6; 4: 7-15

Such is the confidence that we have through Christ toward God. Not that we are competent of our selves to claim anything as coming from us; our competence is from God, who has made us competent to be ministers of a new covenant, not of letter but of spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.

But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always caring in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. For while we live, we are always being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh. So death is at work in us, but life in you.

But just as we have the same spirit of faith that is in accordance with scripture -- "I believed, and so I spoke" -- we also believe, and so we speak, because we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus, and will bring us with you into his presence. Yes, everything is for your sake, so that grace, as it extends to more and more people, may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God.