By R. William Carroll
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 carrying 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.
2 Corinthians 4:7-12
I’ve always loved Paul’s Second Letter to the Corinthians and especially this passage from the fourth chapter. The letter is from a missionary to a young church, and it speaks of Paul’s sufferings as an apostle. One of its great themes is the consolation that comes from knowing Christ, even (and especially) in suffering. I commend it to you in its entirety.
The letter has taken on new meaning for me in the past couple of weeks. It has always spoken to me in terms of spiritual suffering. Blessed few of us reach adulthood without our share of that. I’ve certainly had mine. But I think that since a recent hospitalization and diagnosis with the early stages of diabetes, the physicality of Paul’s sufferings have taken on a new meaning for me. In particular, I am struck by his statement that we are “always carrying in the body the death of Jesus.” Apparently, my diabetes is easily treatable, perhaps without medication and certainly (for now at least) without insulin. But it is still a serious health condition, the first I’ve had, and when I finally pass from this life, it may be what kills me.
Truth be told, we are always already carrying the seeds of death in our bodies. This side of Eden, mortality is the human condition. But illness of any kind or other milestones of aging make this fact, which we’d prefer to deny, present for us in a whole new way. The other day I had a conversation with one of the members of our parish, who told me that she and her friends spoke about this often.
The thought of our own death creates a choice. We can choose to withdraw further into denial or rage against perceived injustice. Or we can choose face the truth with eyes wide open and accept the gift of life for what it is. I am convinced that the Gospel always calls us to the latter path. For on it, we discover the secret of joy, as we draw closer and closer to the crucified and risen Jesus. On it, we find that his life has become our life, breaking the power of death over us. Perhaps it is only here that we truly begin to live.
“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.”
The Rev. R. William Carroll serves as rector of the Episcopal Church of the Good Shepherd in Athens, Ohio (Diocese of Southern Ohio). He received his Ph.D. in Christian theology from the University of Chicago Divinity School. He co-edits The Covenant Journal with Lane Denson, and his sermons appear on his parish blog.