My favorite comic book character is Superman. I’ve always loved his story—the tragedy of his past, the loneliness and isolation he experiences, and the sheer power of his, well, person. But if there’s one thing Superman can’t do, it’s this: he can’t save anyone from death.
Sure, he can save people from getting killed by something. But death will always evade Superman’s power. He even admits after his adoptive father, Jonathan Kent, dies of a heart attack, in a scene from one of my favorite movies, “All those powers, and I couldn’t even save him.”
If the seemingly omnipotent Kal El can’t defeat death, what hope do we have when death seems to own everything?
There’s a song by Hillsong United that repeats this line:
“The same power that conquered the grave lives in me.”
That’s a bold claim to make, isn’t it?
Not when you consider these words from Chapter 3 of Paul’s letter to his church in Ephesus:
“According to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.”
Jesus never once had to make the admission that Clark Kent did. Never once did he say, “I couldn’t even save him.”
Instead, he destroyed death.
He rendered death obsolete.
And the power he used to kill death?
Pure, raw, unadulterated love.
Paul wrote that if we “know the love of Christ,” we’ll then be “filled with all the fullness of God.” Yeah, that’s right. The fullness of the God who killed death.
That power lives in us if we know Christ’s love.
All of it. “The fullness of God.”
All those powers. . . Why aren’t we changing the world?