June 8, 2024 – Third Sunday after Pentecost
There are some weeks where I look ahead to the readings and go… “Can I find someone else to preach today?” No one seemed keen on taking my spot, so unfortunately that means that I can’t. So let’s dig in on Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians, because I can’t stomach looking in depth at Mark this evening.
Paul tells us that – even amidst the travails of life – we can take comfort that the resurrected Christ lives inside of us. “Even though our outer nature is wasting away,” he writes, “our inner nature is being renewed day by day” (2 Cor 4:16).
But let’s take a second to think about that. If I asked you where God is, most of you would point to the heavens. But Hindus and Buddhists would likely point to their heart.
So where does God intersect with our lives? Paul’s intent in teaching in this passage is that at some point we will die. In time, everything human will crumble and perish, whether it is a city, a home, or even our life. Paul steers us to the hope that we find in eternal things. These are times when God intersects with us outside of us, moments which we can’t fully explain, but that somehow hint at a spiritual dimension. Celtic Christianity calls these experiences “thin places”, but many of you may call them déjà vu.
Have you ever thought of someone right before the phone rang, and then heard that person’s voice? Have you ever woken up before the alarm rang? Or right before your child started to cry? In the passage today, Paul seems to indicate that just as Elijah heard a still, small voice, and just as Moses climbed a mountain to see God’s glory, we too can discover God’s presence all around us – inside and out – if we have the eyes of the heart to see.
There’s an old story about a student and his teacher, which today’s Paul might have liked. “Where shall I find God?” the student once asked. “Here,” the teacher replied.
“Then why can’t I see God?” asked the student.
“Because you do not look.”
“But what shall I look for?”
“Nothing. Just look,” said the teacher.
“But at what?”
“At anything your eyes alight upon.”
“But must I look in a special kind of way?”
“No, the ordinary way will do.”
“But don’t I always look in the ordinary way?”
“No, you don’t.”
“But why ever not?” pressed the student?
“Because to look, you must be here. You’re mostly somewhere else,” closed the teacher.
The blessing of God is discovered when we come to understand that we already live in God’s coming reign, and so suffering becomes more tolerable. In many ways, hope remains unfulfilled, but the new has already begun. Life in the presence of Christ isn’t yet possessed, but the Spirit is a guarantee that all God’s gifts will be given to us in the future. As Christians who believe in Jesus as Lord, we expect a transformation of our own bodies and a renewal of the body of the community, the Church of Christ.