The Sharing of His Sufferings
Philippians 3.7-21
Paul wants to share the sufferings of Christ, becoming like him in his death. Not only that, he thinks we should want to do the same, to share the sufferings of Christ by becoming like him in his death.
Now, I saw the movie. I guess I’ll bring it up again and one more time. I saw The Passion of the Christ a week ago this past Thursday, though, for some reason, it feels like a month ago.
And maybe you’ve seen the movie, too. Maybe you haven’t. But even if you haven’t, I’m sure you’ve heard about it, how the movie portrays the sufferings of Christ very graphically. Why, the flogging scene alone, the depiction of Christ being whipped… If it were my back, if my back were to bear those stripes—the whip and the lash—I would’ve perished within the first minute and a half of this scene.
And the Apostle Paul wants to share those sufferings, becoming like him in his death? And he thinks we should want to do the same, to share the sufferings of Christ by becoming like him in his death?
I say to him, to the Apostle, no. No thanks. I saw the movie. I’d rather watch Christ suffer for me, in my stead, and then feel guilty for his having done so. Better this than for me to actually share in his sufferings.
I say to him, no. I say to the Apostle Paul, how can I? How can I stand up here and suggest to all of you that you should want to suffer the sufferings of Christ, too, when… I think some of you already have sufferings enough. I don’t think you need any more suffering.
What in the world is he talking about, the Apostle Paul wanting to share in the sufferings of Christ? And how, in the name of heaven, could he suggest such a thing, that we should want to share those sufferings, the sufferings of Christ?
Asking myself these questions and wondering what I could possibly say to you this morning, I remembered. Oh, it was years ago. I was a senior in college once upon a time, years ago. I remembered my senior year and my senior paper winning an award. My senior paper, it was the best paper written on the New Testament that year at Phillips University. I won the award.
It was no big deal, really. The prize was, I think, only a hundred fifty dollars. My paper wasn’t that good; it was just that the competition wasn’t what I would call intense. And Phillips University no longer exists. No more New Testament prizes.
I wrote my paper on Romans, the Epistle to the Romans, another of the Apostle Paul’s letters. To be exact, I wrote on the eighth chapter. To be even more exact, I wrote on verses eighteen to twenty-five of that chapter.
I remembered those months, the months of my senior year, and living with them, with the words of the Apostle in the eighth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans.
I remembered living with these, these words: I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God…We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now…
Living with these words, with the sufferings of this present time. These words and thinking of the world, the whole of creation, the whole world, waiting. The sufferings of this present time and the whole of creation groaning, the sufferings of this present time, all of creation groaning in labor pains, like a woman in labor, like a woman in labor pains, the pains of childbirth, like a woman giving birth. Life. New life. A new creation.
I remembered. I remembered living with these words: We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now… With those words and with these: and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit groan inwardly…
Living with these words, with the sufferings of this present time, with all of creation groaning around me, the sufferings of the entire world. And within myself. I could not prevent it, could not stop it. And within myself, a groaning. I couldn’t help it. With the thought of all creation groaning under the sufferings of this present time, and rising with me, inwardly. I could not help it. I could not control it. Rising within me, a groaning, a kind of groaning. Like a prayer was this groaning. Not knowing how to pray as I ought, within me, the Spirit praying within me. The Spirit interceding within me. With sighs, with sighs and groans too deep, too deep for mere words, the Spirit interceding, interceding before God and on behalf of the entire world as it waits with eager longing, like a woman in labor pains, giving birth. Life. New life. A new creation.
I remembered those months, so long ago. I remembered living with these words. And these words must’ve taken up residence with me. Because I thought of them.
I thought of them, I remembered these words as I wondered how the Apostle could say here in Philippians that he wants to share the sufferings of Christ.
These. These sufferings. These sufferings of Jesus Christ. What are they? What do they mean? And these. These sufferings. These sufferings of this present time, the groaning of the entire world. What are they? What do they mean?
They are one and the same, one and the same. The sufferings of Jesus Christ, what are they? They are the sufferings of this present time. And the groaning, this groaning of the entire world, what is it? It is the suffering of Jesus Christ.
Think of it. Think of it this way: Think of Jesus Christ suffering with you, not so much for you, and not instead of you. Think of it this way: When you shed a tear, so does Jesus Christ. And when you cry out, so does Jesus Christ. And not just you, but when anyone sheds a tear, when anyone cries out in anguish, so does Jesus Christ. Even now. Even still, Jesus Christ suffering with the entire world.
I remembered those months, so long ago. I remembered living with the words of Paul in Romans eight.
I thought of them, these words, as I wondered how the Apostle could say in Philippians that he thinks you should want to share in the sufferings of Christ. I thought of those months, long ago, as I thought of what it is I could possibly say this morning.
I remember living with those words, living with the sufferings of this present time and of the entire world, the whole of creation, groaning around me.
And not a few times, not a few times during those months. Not a few times did I feel a tear forming in my own eye. And not a few times, not a few times during those months. Not a few times did I feel an anguished cry welling up within me. I could not help it. I could not stop it. I could not help myself.
I say I could not help it. I say I could not stop it. I say I could not help myself. I say these things, but the truth is, the truth is I did not want to.
Not a few tears and cries on behalf of the world, these, these, the sufferings of Jesus Christ within me, a prayer. It is what I wanted. Myself not knowing how to pray as I ought, but the Spirit of Christ within me and interceding before God and on behalf of the entire world with sighs too deep, much too deep for mere words, the sufferings of Jesus Christ within me, it is what I wanted.
This, this being found in Christ, the suffering of Jesus Christ within me, this being like him in his death, this prayer, a prayer on behalf of all creation as she waits, like a woman in labor, she waits with eager longing, like a woman giving birth. Life. New life. A new creation. The power of his resurrection. This, this is what I want. Ever within me, a prayer for the world, the prayer of Jesus Christ within me: Thy kingdom come. This is what I want. Don’t you?
Neal Kentch, Salem United Church of Christ and Corydon Christian, March 7, 2004