Labor and New Life

The following is taken from a sermon drawing from 2 Corinthians 4:1-15 and preached on June 13, 1982.

In chapter four of the second letter to the Corinthians, the apostle Paul describes a tremendous struggle of faith. I have often reflected over the years how his words have taken on more meaning as we have attempted to bring to birth a community of faith. It's very hard work, and it often feels like a kind of dying.

The pain of this birth struggle is felt emotionally, many times spiritually, and sometimes even physically. But the events of this weekend have made Paul's words more vivid for me than they have ever been before.

Jackie's contractions began early Friday morning. Her husband, Bob, came down to the basement apartment I have in their house to give me the news. My bag was packed, ready to leave for New York where I was to participate in the religious convocation being held in preparation for the peace march and rally there the next day. I unpacked my bag and stayed home.

The waiting began.

Julie, one of the midwives and a longtime friend, came about four o'clock in the afternoon. We all sat out on the porch together. A great feast of fried chicken was prepared next door. It was funny to note how as soon as the labor began, everyone rushed home to make food: chicken, brownies, and pie. We were well fed throughout the entire event.

In the early evening, Jackie went upstairs to stay. It was the beginning of a very long and hard night.

Community people began to come and gather in the living room downstairs. Together we kept the vigil that would continue through the birth.

The house felt really blessed that night, filled with love, support, and fervent intercession. The lowest point came about four in the morning. Jackie had been very strong and brave through the whole thing, but the pain had been growing for hours. She and Bob were very weary and had become discouraged.

Julie told us how hard it was going, and we gathered to pray. Only a short time later Bob came running down with a smile on his face to say that the water had broken and the baby was coming. Martha, proud of our prayer, said, "We should have done this about three hours ago."

We all gathered at the foot of the stairs where we could hear everything: Jackie's cries, Julie's encouragement, and the instructions of the midwives--"Easy, Jackie, easy. Blow, blow." We all blew.

Then we heard the delighted exclamation, "It's a girl! It's a girl!" and an amazing sound--the baby's first cry. Suddenly we had the sensation of a new person upstairs. It was a very emotional moment for all of us. There wasn't a dry eye in the house.

Just as the first cry came, I looked out the window and saw it was just getting light. After the long, long night, Kathryn Claire had come with the dawn.

Paul talks about the treasure we have in earthen vessels. This weekend, I realized that Jackie was indeed an earthen vessel. The treasure was new life--new life in the image of God.

Later Paul speaks of being persecuted and struck down, but never forsaken. We are given up in death so that the life of Jesus may be manifested in us

I read these verses after the birth, and pictured Jackie's labor. I thought of her faithfulness through it. And now, when I hold Kathryn Claire, I value her with a sense of awe and joy at the realization that this beautiful, healthy child is the fruit of much labor and pain.

The experience has helped me understand what is going on in each of us and among us as a community. I had a vivid image of God among us indeed, like a mother in labor, enduring pain and, I would venture, long hours of discouragement. And God remains faithful until that moment of birth that takes place in each of us.

That evening I told Jackie about the success of the march and events in New York. She was glad and excited and watched attentively the reports on T.V. There was no need for anyone to draw connections between the events in New York and the events that night in our home. She knew, and was grateful for all who marched, because they were marching for Kathryn Claire.

Stopping the arms race and the making of peace will be like a long labor. Peace won't come with a decisive act, or a march, or an event, but very likely it will take a long night of labor and struggle to bring to birth a day of new and better possibilities.

The same day hundreds of thousands of people filled the streets of New York, a baby was born at Sojourners. Both events were for the same cause--the continuing of life. "Choose life," said the prophet, "so you and your children may live."

There is no birth without labor, no life without death, says Paul. It's the oldest pattern we know, and it's acted out again and again among us. Paul says that it is also the pattern of life and growth for Christians and the church.

For me, there is a new image in all this. It is one of each of us, all of us, being invited to join in the labor of God for the sake of the world. Jackie's labor was also the labor of God; there was something deeply divine in every step and every stage. Somehow, she was a part of God's labor, and God's labor was a part of her.

We too have joined the labor of God, the labor for life, for justice, and for peace. God's labor will be long and hard, and we will no doubt get discouraged and feel like giving up. But in the morning, as on the Saturday morning of June 12 when Kathryn Claire was born, life will always come to us again.

Jim Wallis was editor-in-chief of Sojourners when this article appeared.