 is the law's reminder that in Adam all die. This is not a simple cause-and-effect relationship: "He did X so God did Y." AIDS babies and genocide victims show us that we do not live in a simplistic cause-and-effect world. Death is the intrinsic consequence of our trying to be like God, our common lot as children of Adam. The word of law, spoken to Adam, continues to have its killing way with all of Adam's sons and daughters: "You will surely die."
But death is not God's last word. In his incarnation, Jesus Christ embraces humanity as the second Adam, as humanity's new head. In his baptism, Jesus stands as a sinner in John's baptism of repentance, though he is without sin. He becomes the aggregate sinner, made to be sin for us though he himself knew no sin (see 2 Cor. 5:21). In his own flesh, he accomplishes perfect obedience under the law for us, even to his death on the cross. And, just as every sin is atoned for in his death, so every sufferer is embraced in Christ's suffering. "But I, when I am lifted up, I will draw all men to myself" (John 12:32).
"Were you there when they crucified my Lord?" the Good Friday spiritual asks. Yes, you were there, in the body of Jesus. "Christ died for all and therefore all died" (2 Cor. 5:14). We, together with all humanity, suffered the just punishments for our sin in the body of Jesus nailed to the tree. He is every sufferer, every death, every victim of genocide, and every victim of oppression, violence, and disease. His thirst is our thirst. His pain is our pain-the pain we inflict on others, the pain others inflict on us, and the pain we inflict upon ourselves. His cry of dereliction, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" speaks for every sufferer in his or her time of abandonment. The Son asks his Father "Why?" on behalf of all of us-and hears only silence from heaven. Yet he trusts his Father even in the silence and entrusts his life to him in the silence. "Father, into your hands, I commit my spirit." The good news comes with his dying breath, for his death is good news for the world: "It is finished."
It would be a denial of this final word from the cross to say that the suffering of the redeemed is punishment for their sins. "The punishments that brought us peace were upon him, and by his wounds, we are healed" (Isa. 53:5). Our suffering and even our death are not God's punishment, but his discipline (paideia). Our heavenly Father is not our permissive parent in heaven. He disciplines the children he loves (see Heb. 12:7-11).
Certain members of the Corinthian congregation, failing to discern the Body of the Lord by communing drunk and neglecting the needs of their fellow communicants, incurred a temporal judgment in their becoming sick and dying (see 1 Cor. 11:27-32). This judgment (krino) was God's "discipline" (paideia) in order that they might not be condemned (katakrino), along with the world, by refusing Christ's gifts. Their suffering and death were instruction, not punishment; a preemptive warning serving the goal of their salvation.
Suffering and death are also gospel. "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his children" (Psa. 116:15). "Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on" (Rev. 14:13). The Apostle Paul declares that we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces patient endurance, and patient endurance character, and character hope that doesn't disappoint (see Rom. 5:3-5). He adds that our present sufferings do not compare with the glory that will be revealed in us, and he likens the suffering of the cosmos to the labor pains of a woman about to give birth (see Rom. 8:18-25). Confident in God's will to save through suffering, the faithful in Christ bear patiently with suffering and death, enduring and even embracing them, because Christ by his suffering and death has embraced us. "To live is Christ, and to die is gain" (Phil. 1:21).
In the cross of Jesus, we see the God who hides life in death, victory in defeat, power in weakness. He buries his divinity deeply in our humanity and then suffers, dies, and rises to sa