Sermon on 2 Corinthians 5:16-21

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

Sometimes we experience things that divide our lives into “before” and “after.” They’re not always bad—sometimes it’s because of a birth or a graduation or winning the lottery (wouldn’t that be nice?). And they can also be some of the hardest things about being human: a diagnosis, a death, a divorce, an injury, a painful career change or move, a pandemic.

There are befores and afters in our readings today, too. The younger son in our Gospel reading had before he asked for his inheritance and after he hit rock bottom. Or perhaps the after was when he was welcomed home and was reconciled with his father. The elder son, too, had before when his life was routine and peaceful and after his brother returned, causing his resentment to erupt into an argument with his father.

The Israelites had the before time of enslavement in Egypt and the after of arriving in the Promised Land. In our reading from Joshua, God marked the after of no longer wandering in the wilderness with their ability to cultivate their own food instead of eating the manna God provided. The very food they ate was a sign of the fulfillment of God’s promises to them—their after.

And in our reading from 2 Corinthians, Paul reminds the recipients of his letter that they have the before and after of becoming Jesus followers and joining the Beloved Community—the ultimate after of being reconciled to God through Christ.

The Corinthians were at odds with Paul. We only get half of the correspondence, so we don’t know exactly what problems they were dealing with, but chances are they were dealing with a lot of what churches today deal with—arguments, hurt pride, disagreements about money and other resources, differing visions of what their mission was, and the list goes on—because the early Church was made up of humans, just as the Church today is. I find that comforting (mostly).

Paul was trying to restore health to that community by encouraging them to view the world differently.

They didn’t need to fall back on old, unhealthy patterns and habits.They were a new creation! Their new life in Christ should help them see other people as beloved children of God, recipients ofthe mercy of Christ.

We talked last week about repentance being about a change of heart, not self-flagellation spurred by people with ominous signs on the street corner or fire and brimstone spewed from the pulpit.

Paul talks about the “after” of that change of heart. It’s about new life, a new perspective, and a new relationship with others. He reminds them of their new mission in the world: a “ministry of reconciliation.” Just as Jesus reconciled us with God through his death and resurrection, the Corinthians were to be “ambassadors,” representatives of God to those around them.

That’s not to say they should be fake and pretend things are okay even if they’re not or pretend like they’re perfect and sinless. Far from it—followers of Jesus are still human and should be open about struggles and questions and doubts.Following Jesus doesn’t prevent the hard befores and afters of being human, and pretending it does is untruthful and misleading, setting ourselves and others up for disappointment and disillusionment.

New creations in Christ aren’t robots—they (we) strive to be genuine humans who show love to the beautiful images of God all around us.

After all, Jesus went through his own before and after for love of us.

This whole season of Lent is the before that leads to Jesus’ after.

We’re about halfway through this season of accompanying Jesus on his journey to the cross, contemplating what it must have been like not knowing what was on the other side.

Jesus accompanies us through our befores and afters, when we don’t know what’s on the other side.

Nothing we go through scares him away, because he’s been there. We can bring him all the hard things about being human.

It doesn’t make the things we go through okay. It might not even make them any easier.

But of the hardest times in our lives, Rabbi Steve Leder says, “If you’re going through hell, don’t come out empty handed.”

What we get out of the events that have befores and afters might not justify the pain we’ve gone through, but we still don’t have to come out empty-handed.

It might not happen right away. If you’re going through a hard thing or many hard things right now and all you’ve done today is survive—that’s enough.

And perhaps in the long run, we can come out of the hard things with more empathy, with more compassion, with more wisdom.

It doesn’t usually make it worth it, but at least we’re not coming out empty-handed.

And thankfully, Jesus didn’t come out of his hard time empty-handed—through it he holds us, always and forever.

Through him, we’re not alone.

Through him, we see every part of the world as God’s beloved creation.

Through him, we see every person, including ourselves, as the image of God.

Beloved child of God, receive this “Blessing for the Life You Didn’t Choose” from Kate Bowler:

Blessed are you

when the shock subsides,

when vaguely, you see a line appear

that divides before and after.

You didn’t draw it,

and can barely even make it out.

But as surely as minutes add up to

hours and days,

here you are,

forced into a story you never would have written.

Blessed are you in the tender place

of awe and dread,

wondering how to be whole

when dreams have disappeared

and part of you with them,

where mastery, control,

determination, bootstrapping,

and grit

are consigned to the realm

of Before

(where most of the world lives),

in the fever dream that promises

infinite choices,

unlimited progress, best life now.

Blessed are we in the After zone,

loudly shouting:

Is there anybody here?

We hear the echo,

the shuffle of feet,

the murmur of others

asking the same question,

together in knowledge

that we are far beyond

what we know.

God, show us a

glimmer of possibility

in this new constraint,

that small truths will be given

back to us.

We are held.

We are safe.

We are loved.

We are loved.

We are loved.