It’s autumn. I’ve gotta admit that I am not a fan of fall. I see the beauty in the Virginia reds, yellows, and oranges. I love the floating leaves in the air. I like the sound of their crunch underfoot, and I enjoy a walk in the cooler outdoors.
But I also know leaves turn color because they die. They fall because their season is over and gone. Bare branched Virginia trees look bleak. And dead.
I also confess, I’ve been thinking about death a lot lately. It’s not anyone’s favorite subject, but there it is, ever since Adam. And it’s probably not going away in our lifetime.
The subject lurked at the edges of what I read, as I came to Galatians 2:20. I nearly missed it because I know it by memory. But something in its familiarity brought me back to read it again.
“I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Galatians 2:20 ESV)
Death, that violent separation which breaks our hearts, and shatters our lives, the Apostle Paul presented in a different dimension. “It is no longer I who live.”
This he said while his heart still beat and breath filled his lungs.“It is no longer I who live.” The Apostle Paul said while his heart still beat and breath filled his lungs. Share on X
The old Paul died, the one with him in control. A new Paul lived with Christ on the throne. This death he speaks of spawns spiritual life eternal. It is the very opposite of humanity’s first foray into wanting to make himself his own god.
“You will not surely die,” Satan told Eve in the Garden.
“For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” (Genesis 3:4-5 ESV)
Well, as we know, that didn’t work out well for any of us.
In today’s world giving up our sovereign control to another, fights an uncomfortable internal war. For we are self-lovers. Yielding control of myself to Another, wrestles against the very philosophies the world cherishes. Because self is a god we hold tightly.
Humankind returns over and over again to that same whispering temptation from when time began. It falsely claims that self is the fount of happiness, first priority, the core of all we desire and need. Yielding control of myself to Another, wrestles against the very philosophies the world cherishes. Share on X
But Paul found life in dying to self. In my autumn-ish thoughts about death, I ponder the about-face of Paul’s allegiance, the giving up, and subsequent receiving a new creation. This exchange annihilates sin’s curse. Accomplished by Christ’s crucification and resurrection, it breaks the chains of me-god slavery.
“And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Galatians 2:20 ESV)
The decay of our souls and bodies which began in a beautiful verdant garden, then continued its layers of generation upon sorrowing generation, will find what it longs for in Jesus.
And, in my own autumn days, I appreciate so much more that shedding of death for life.
“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.” (2 Corinthians 4:16-17 ESV)
Paul, in his autumn days, reflected on the many experiences of his life with Christ at the helm. And with hindsight he considered his many hardships of lighter weight, perhaps like an autumn leaf caught in the breeze, when compared to the heavy weight of glory to come.
And with Paul, I too want to affirm, that I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.
Brilliant red and gold invite me to drop what I’m doing and take my wandering thoughts outside. Bright sunlight flickers between a dazzling blizzard of floating leaves. A catch of cool breezy undertow and noisy dead-leaf crunch underfoot all lift my spirits toward hope. For ahead waits something glorious.
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