A Scriptural Call for Renewal . . .

THE STRENGTH OF CHRIST

I can cope with everything by him who strengthens me.—Phil. 4:13

We all have those passages of scripture that bring to mind experiences of yesteryear. Nearly always when I hear or read this great passage from Paul’s letter to the Philippians I think of a perilous operation my Mother had many years ago.

I whispered these words of comfort into her ear as she was wheeled away to surgery: I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. She told me later that she repeated those words over and over to herself until denied by the anesthesia. Bless her dear heart, that operation was supposed to kill her, and we feared we would lose her, but she lived on another 15 years!

Above I have used the rendition by Schonfield, for it is more expressive than the traditional translations. I can cope with everything by him who strengthens me. That speaks with such meaning to our complex way of life. Life can be so difficult that we do well if we can just cope with it, not to speak of conquering it. The truth is, however, that man cannot struggle with life’s vicissitudes with any satisfaction without resources of power beyond himself. This is what it means to be a Christian. Christ is our strength! He is strong in us even when we are weak. Indeed, it is in our weakness that He is made strong In us.

If we would only believe that Christ is relevant to the demands that today’s world places upon us! Believing would make it so. As Augustine put it: “I believe, therefore I know.”

Does Christ give the business man the strength to cope with his many problems? Is the strength of Christ relevant to today’s riots and lawlessness? Does He empower the believing statesman in reference to the complex international problems that plague the world? Is Christ indeed the answer to poverty, ignorance, war, famine, overpopulation, and disease? Can a mayor look to Christ for the strength to cope with urban problems that appear to be almost impossible of solution? We are all pressed with the stress and strain of making ends meet, of getting along with each other, of rearing children who sometimes drive us to distraction, of staying well, of getting an education. Docs Christ really make a difference in these matters?

The predicament of being human was evident once more in the story of Mickey Mantle’s retirement from baseball. He told the reporters: “I can’t play anymore. I don’t hit the ball when I need to. I can’t steal when I need to. I can’t score from second when I need to.” Ah, but that story has been told many a time, whether it be a banker, baker, or candle-stick-maker.

But it seemed unreal for Mickey Mantle to be talking that way. I recall seeing Mickey play the Red Sox when I was in graduate school at Harvard. I was sitting in the bleachers for the sun as well as for economic reasons, and when Mickey came to bat for the third time without a hit, I had the feeling that he would put this one right in my lap. And sure enough he did! At least it hit barely in front of me, striking the rail and bouncing back into the field of play. By the time Jim Piersal had fielded it Mickey was at third. The umpire ruled that the ball was always in play, but Casey Stengel growled that it was a home run. To this day I can see Mantle sitting on third base while the argument went on and on. The reporters from the Boston papers interviewed me and those around me to get our verdict.

I recall asking the reporter if it were all that important, that Mantle had a triple anyway and went on to score. The reporter retorted that “The season is young, and suppose Mantle hits 59 homers this year, and is denied this one?” Well, he was denied that one, and the umpire was right, and Mantle did hit over 50 homers that year. Mickey’s coaches believe that he could have hit 75 homers a year had it not been for his injured knee.

But now Mickey hangs them up. No more home-runs, no more baseball. It hardly seems right. For him to say, “I can’t hit the ball anymore,” has a sadness about it, something like a bird not being able to fly anymore. It is as unreal as the prospect of our losing Dwight Eisenhower. Mickey has to hang them up and play no more baseball and the animated Eisenhower has to die. That’s the world for you!

How docs the strength of Christ relate to all this? It docs not mean that Christ’s strength will enable a Mantle to play baseball forever, nor does it spare us the frailty of old age and death, not even for an Eisenhower.

It does mean, however, that whatever the experience may be one can look for the will of God and trust in the strength of Christ to do that will. In Christ a man can find peace even in hanging up the gear that has brought him fame, for the next stage of life can be equally meaningful if it be a life in Christ. An Eisenhower can look back with nostalgia at his great military and political victories, but one can believe that the victory of all victories comes to him in following Christ on into death and eternity.

Paul believed that Christ answers every need. He said as much to the same Philippians: “My God in turn will supply every need of yours in Christ Jesus by his wealth in glory.” The trouble with us is that we confuse what we want with what God knows we need. Our need is to be conformed to God’s image through Christ. All life should move in this direction. To make another million, to live another decade, to hit another 100 homers may not do this. It may come through very difficult circumstances, even by being unloved and misunderstood. Or even by endless illness. Christ’s strength shines through our frailties.

Paul explains this to the Philippians: “The very things that were an asset to me, these I regarded as a dead loss on Christ’s account. Indeed, I definitely regard everything as a dead loss because of the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Master, for whom all is well lost, and I regard it as so much rubbish, that I may gain Christ.”—the Editor