by Mike Stavlund
Epistle Reading: Romans 8:6-11
For Sunday, Apr. 10, 2011: Year A - Lent 5
Resurrection is everywhere this week. Lazarus rises, the Psalmist cries out from the depths, and Ezekiel sees a vision of a massive restoration of a pile of dry bones. Everyone seems to be making the reflexive move to “choose life” and push back death.
Escaping our Mortal Coil
With resurrection on our minds (and right around the Lenten corner), it’s no surprise that our faithful Lectionarians reach for Paul’s intriguing mix of flesh, death, and resurrection. But why does Paul seem to hate his body so much? And must we follow suit?
I understand that Paul is extending the typology of “flesh” and “spirit” that he begins exploring in chapter 7, and leading his way toward the embodied activism of chapters 12 and 13. But I wonder if we’re all straining our necks to see around elephant that’s sitting in middle of the family room: Uncle Paul has issues.
My body is no prize. I'm certainly not in love with it. It works fine, but no one is asking to make a closer examination of it, that's for sure. But it's hard to hate it, too. Believe me, I've tried. But it's exhausting. Why? Because it's always there!
Stating the Obvious
Paul’s assertion is so forceful that it’s hard to argue with it: "You're not in the flesh." Really? Because it sure seems like that's exactly where I am. I mean, I know that Paul wants to differentiate between our flesh (ick) and our spirit (cue angelic voices) to implore us to ignore our fleshly pitfalls and to rise above.
Furthermore, our Lectionarians surely want us to see some connection between Lazarus' resurrection of the flesh and our newly restored spirits. But aren't we in the same spot as Lazarus? Staring down at our fleshly vessel, sniffing its smell, and feeling our various ailments when we get up in the morning (or following a four-day nap).
We might try to put our mind to it, cue up some “Up With People,” and roll out into our day of triumph, but isn't this struggle against our flesh part of the bargain? Isn’t fleshly engagement with this world to be commended?
WWJD?
After all, we’re now liturgically looking forward to Jesus’ journey toward Jerusalem-- he doesn’t pray for that important city, he goes there. He gets angry there, and weeps there, and sweats there, and spills his blood there.
Isn't this kind of fleshly engagement exactly what Jesus embraced, even to the point of his separation from God the Father with his plaintive cry, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" And even after his miraculous triumph over the constraints of death, Jesus is right back in his flesh, eating fish and sitting in chairs and submitting to requests to show off his scars.
The Hardest Question
Is our flesh so bad? Jesus had his chance to rise above it, and he didn't go very far.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Mike Stavlund writes from a 5-car pile-up at the intersection of his Christian faith and real life. A husband of over 15 years and a father of 4 children, he lives with his wife and 3 daughters in a small house outside Washington, DC. He’s a part of an innovative emergence Christian community called Common Table, a co-conspirator with the Relational Tithe, and a proud part of the collective called Emergent Village. He is the author of the manuscript "Force of Will", and blogs at MikeStavlund.com.
