Galatians 2:20 – I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.
When we study a translation of a Scripture passage we often miss out on the nuances hidden in the original Hebrew (Old Testament) or Greek (New Testament). Often, it’s not that a word is mistranslated, but that rendering the meaning in one English word is difficult if not impossible.
One such word is the word “flesh”. The often-used Greek word for “flesh”, “sarx”, forms the etymological root for our English word, “sarcophagus”. Sarcophagi are ornately adorned stone coffins where the mortal flesh of humans (usually significant in some way during their lifetime) becomes entombed. They can be quite ornate and beautifully crafted. Thus, the Greek word for “flesh”, ironically, carries in its meaning a hint of the mortal nature of the stuff we are made of, and the vessel to which it is destined. Normally, the simple word “flesh” doesn’t necessarily connote “mortality”…unless you spend some time thinking about it…
Our flesh can also be made beautiful, and many spend quite a bit of time and resources beautifying it. Yet our “sarx”, or mortal human body is also a kind of “sarcophagus” since it’s destined to decay, a temporary vessel no more eternal than a coffin.
The apostle Paul affirms that he is “crucified with Christ”; that his mortal flesh with its irrevocably sinful tendency and bondage to decay, has been identified with the Messiah in His death on the cross. Throughout his epistles, Paul frequently warns believers not to live a life “after the flesh”, that is according to its predilections and desires. Living that way could be described as being trapped within a “coffin”.
Yet Paul says in another place that “we carry this treasure in jars of clay”…[2 Cor. 4:7] i.e. that the “sarcophagi” in which we walk around are vessels of resurrection life– the very life of Messiah which was regenerated by His Spirit in us.
The great mystery and challenge of a believer’s life is that we have the constant choice whether to be a walking self-serving “sarcophagus”, or a living breathing jar of clay filled with God’s Holy Spirit and bearing all the fruit of love, joy, peace, etc.
Your “sarx” can be a self-serving coffin, or a life-giving vessel. If you are born from above, the sinful nature of your body has been crucified with Christ, and your constant life choice will be the extent to which you recognize that reality, and are filled with the resurrection life which the new birth affords. You were not given a spirit of fear, but of love, power and a sound mind. Don’t be an ornate living tomb; be a life-giving, spirit-filled jar of clay!
Copyright 1999-2026 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
How to display the above article within the Worthy Suite WordPress Plugin.
[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Yeshua (Jesus) does not conclude this parable with separation alone — He brings it to its true climax in glory. After the harvest, after the revealing, after everything has been set in its proper place, He lifts our eyes beyond the process and into the purpose with a powerful promise: the righteous will shine. This is the heart of the harvest — not merely the removal of what does not belong, but the unveiling of what truly does.
Yeshua (Jesus) brings this parable to a decisive and unavoidable climax: a moment is coming when everything in the field will be uncovered for what it truly is. The harvest is not merely the end of a process — it is the unveiling. What has been growing quietly over time will suddenly stand in full clarity, with no room left for confusion, assumption, or misjudgment. In that moment, the distinction will be undeniable.
There is something deeply instructive in the restraint of the Lord. When the servants recognize the problem in the field, their instinct is immediate action. They want to fix it, remove it, clean it up. But the Lord responds in a way that challenges human urgency. He tells them to wait.
Elul is unlike any other month. As we mentioned yesterday, it is the 12th month on the civil calendar and the 6th on the prophetic calendar. This dual position gives Elul a unique character — it both closes a cycle and prepares for a new one. That is why the shofar sounds each day during Elul: it is a wake-up call, reminding us to reflect, repent, and return to the Lord before the great and awesome days of the Fall Feasts.
This begins a very special season on God’s calendar — the month of preparation before the Fall Feasts. The month of Elul is unique: it is the 12th month on the civil calendar and the 6th month on the prophetic/biblical calendar. Each day of Elul is marked by the blowing of the shofar, a trumpet call that awakens the soul. These daily blasts prepare our hearts for Yom Teruah (the Feast of Trumpets, Rosh Hashanah) and ultimately for Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement).
We have come to the final meditation in this journey through the Z’roah, the Arm of the LORD. From the Arm that redeemed Israel out of Egypt, to the Arm that pierced the dragon, to the Arm that is coming with reward — all of these revelations lead us here: the Arm that brings His people into rest.
Isaiah’s vision looks ahead — not only to the Arm of the LORD revealed in the Exodus or even in the cross, but to the day when that same Arm will come again in glory. This is not a picture of brute force but of purposeful arrival. The Z’roah — the Arm of the LORD — comes clothed with strength to establish His rule, and He does not come empty-handed. His reward is with Him, and His work is before Him. The promise is sure: He is coming, and He is rewarding.