In normal human relationships, when reconciliation is necessary, we place the burden on the person who did wrong, who disrupted the relationship.
Trading cards were big when I grew up. Historically, baseball cards were the big deal, but the market really started to grow in other sports in the late eighties and early nineties. My friends and I had not only baseball cards, but also basketball, football, hockey, and even Desert Storm cards from the First Gulf War. Getting a Stormin’ Norman Schwarzkopf was always a pleasant surprise.
Collecting trading cards meant trading trading cards, as the name implies. My friends and I made deals. We loved each other but also wanted to get the better haul. You could really pull one over on your buddy, trading a backup Tiger they knew for some up-and-coming rookie that wasn’t on their radar. I tried to study the trading guides to avoid that scenario, but sometimes it still happened.
History has seen a lot of bad trades. Bobby Layne comes to mind as a Lions fan. Every franchise has its stories about the one that got away. I bet our business professors could rattle off a slew of notorious transactions from the past. People love to win a deal, to come out big in a trade, and hate to get taken.
In 2 Corinthians 5, Paul talks about the worst trade in history. He writes to the Corinthians the problem of a lack of church discipline that had come up in his first letter to them. A man was caught in sin, big sin, and the congregation celebrated it. Paul had to write to them to tell them to excommunicate the man – out of love for him – so he would repent. Now, he seems to be writing to them again about the same man, who had repented and now needed forgiveness. This chapter, therefore, is all about forgiveness and how it works.
In normal human relationships, when reconciliation is necessary, we place the burden on the person who did wrong, who disrupted the relationship. That’s how reconciliation works in everyday life. The wrongdoer tries to make it right. Paul, however, paints a very different picture. He tells a very different story. He tells us about the worst trade in history, which is also the best.
I am unsure why I’m on such a nineties kick, but let’s stick with it. In the nineties, a song came out entitled “One of Us.” The singer sang:
What if God was one of us
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Trying to make His way home
If God had a face what would it look like
And would you want to see
If seeing meant that you would have to believe
In things like Heaven and in Jesus and the Saints
And all the Prophets
And yeah, yeah God is great
Yeah, yeah God is good
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
This song used to drive me crazy, although I will admit it’s catchy. First off, it should have asked, “What if God were one of us?” Secondly, God was one of us. God is one of us. That is the whole point of Jesus, whom the song mentions. This is what the Bible is about. This is what moved the prophets and saints to risk life and limb. God was and is one of us.
We have been taken hold of by love. We are reconciled. We are new. The Christian life is nothing less and nothing more than getting used to that.
Why, though? Why did he become one of us? Well, that brings us to the trade, what Martin Luther called a “happy exchange.” Paul tells us, “For our sake, he made him be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21). And this changes everything because in this way, God’s love takes hold of us. This changes us because the old is now gone. Something new has happened.
Luther had a dear friend named Georg Spalatin. Spalatin had a very important position in the Saxon court. He was a trusted advisor to the princes. He helped protect Luther and guide the reformation in Wittenberg and Saxony. Later in life, Spalatin became a pastor. He fell into a deep depression. Luther, who had also struggled with depression, wrote to his beloved Spalatin with words of comfort. His letter captures this worst but best trade, this happy exchange, and what it means for the Christian life. Give it a read, and just for fun, try to read as if you were Spalatin (because you are).
Therefore, my dear Friar, learn Christ and him crucified. Learn to praise him and, despairing of yourself, say, “Lord Jesus, you are my righteousness, just as I am your sin. You have taken upon yourself what is mine and have given to me what is yours. You have taken upon yourself what you were not and have given to me what I was not.” Beware of aspiring to such purity that you will not wish to be looked upon as a sinner, or to be one. For Christ dwells only in sinners. On this account he descended from heaven, where he dwelt among the righteous, to dwell among sinners. Meditate on this love of his and you will see his sweet consolation. For why was it necessary for him to die if we can obtain a good conscience by our works and afflictions? Accordingly you will find peace only in him and only when you despair of yourself and your own works. Besides, you will learn from him that just as he has received you, so he has made your sins his own and has made his righteousness yours. [1]
Why was God one of us? Why is God one of us? He became one of us to become what we are so that we could be what he is. What a trade. And so now we are not what we were. We have been taken hold of by love. We are reconciled. We are new. The Christian life is nothing less and nothing more than getting used to that. What a trade! What a deal! What a happy exchange!
[1] Luther, M. (1999). Luther’s works, vol. 48: Letters I (J. J. Pelikan, H. C. Oswald, & H. T. Lehmann, Eds.; Vol. 48, pp. 12–13). Fortress Press.
