But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumph, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of him everywhere. 2 Corinthians 2:14
In the night watch of the embattled soul, when the dimly flickering flame of faith casts a ghostly pall on our wounded hopes and dying dreams, the dread of ongoing conflict looms forbiddingly large. To the militant Christian who presses stoically for victory over all of adversarial life – be it common cold or cults – Paul presents a disarming thought. Picture yourself a captive, not a captain! Be nothing more than a captive in the victory parade of Christ the Conqueror. Walk in humble submission. Spot the crown of fresh flowers pressed on Him by the jubilant crowd. Savor the mood of adulation. Surprise yourself with an approving smile.
Never mind the raised eyebrows of Stockholm-Syndrome experts who blame it on brainwashing. In essence Paul is evoking powerful images from ancient Rome’s military glory days. The generals paid tribute to the divine Caesars by marching the spoils of war through the streets of the Eternal City. Carts groaned under the weight of treasure and people gawked at newly minted slaves and future gladiators. In sharp contrast, Paul creatively envisioned a parade of the liberated and glad of heart. (Part 1 of 2)
Comment: Try as I might, I can’t quite wrap my head around a faith so fragrant that upon entering the house of God, the “aroma of Christ” is unmistakable. What if the jolly lady who reeks of cheap perfume sits near me? What if a neighbor drops in to borrow a lemon and then shrinks back because the air is thick with the pungent smell of garlic that is heavenly to me? What if Chumley just peed in the living room again and the stench has become unbearable? Decades ago the sad decision had to be made to get rid of the cat. When I went upstairs to tuck in my youngest child and pray with him, he tearfully begged me to ask Jesus to heal Chumley. The next morning I read in my devotion about a sick dog healed through prayer, and in the backyard a dead crape myrtle tree was suddenly sprouting shiny new leaves. From then on when I was on my knees to treat the urine spots in the living room, I prayed earnestly that the “fragrance of Christ” would prevail. It pleased the Lord to heal my child’s hurting heart and have Chumley live happily with us for several more years. Around that time God had led me into a ministry of caring for certain people in nursing homes, and the smell of urine was hard on me. After the “fragrance of Christ” had restored a sweet, beloved pet to our family, it prevailed wonderfully during my visits with the elderly. When my daughter volunteered as a candy striper, the only thing that made her gag were the mashed green peas. Funny, isn’t it, that just when the theologian in me wants to strut her stuff, albeit more humbly than what that sounds like, cheap perfume and cat pee come to mind? Not only do I not mind, but I rejoice immensely that the Holy Spirit expertly unpacks Scripture that instructs my faith and thrills my surprised heart. A cross reference in Ephesians 5:2 adds this practical Pauline insight, “And walk in love, as Christ also has loved us and given Himself for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling aroma.” So, as is true always, it’s more about Jesus than you and me.
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