“For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.”
— 1 Corinthians 1:18
If you want to understand the state of the human soul, just look at American politics.
And I don’t even mean recent politics—I mean American politics in general.
As much as I value our democracy and believe it’s worth defending, I’ve become increasingly aware of the collective delusion we fall into every four years: that a savior is coming to fix everything.
Left or right, conservative or progressive, we all get caught up in the fantasy that this candidate will finally deliver us. We say things like, “This is the most important election of our lifetime,” and paint our candidates as either messianic figures or harbingers of doom—one promising life, the other destruction.
And yes, sometimes the stakes do feel existential. Sometimes, they really are. Elections matter. Policies matter. But deep down, we all know: no politician, no matter how visionary or powerful, can actually save us from suffering, division, or death.
Because no human has that power.
Because every human is just that—human.
And yet, the very fact that we keep hoping reveals something about us. The fact that we keep dreaming of utopia, that we crave transformation, testifies to a deep truth lodged in our souls:
We all long to be saved.
We know we can’t save ourselves.
We hope someone or something might.
And that longing brings us to today’s reflection.
What Is Salvation?
We’re in a series at Sunnyside called Church Words, exploring the deeper meaning behind common Christian vocabulary. Today’s word: salvation.
If you grew up in conservative Christianity, you likely heard this word a lot. I certainly did. In the fundamentalist Baptist church of my youth, everything centered around it.
We were told:
You need to get saved.
Jesus is the path to salvation.
Your life’s purpose is to help others get saved.
But let’s pause for a moment. What does salvation mean?
More specifically:
What are we being saved from?
And what does salvation actually do to us?
In much of modern evangelicalism, the answer is simple: salvation is about escaping hell. We're told that because we’re all sinners, we deserve eternal torment—unless we say the sinner’s prayer, believe the right things, and get our theological ducks in a row.
Now let me ask you—does that actually make sense?
Is the point of Christianity really just to sign a cosmic contract so God doesn’t send us to hell?
Is our eternal fate hinging on a few words said in a moment of fear or faith?
Because when you boil it down, the common narrative is:
“Because I believe in Jesus and said sorry, God has saved me.”
That story has some major problems.
For one: what happens to those who never believe the "right" things?
For another: why do so many who do believe those things live lives filled with hatred, hypocrisy, and harm?
How does “salvation” transform us if it’s just about what we think?
Salvation as a Process, Not a Moment
In much of American Christianity, salvation is viewed as a one-time experience. You “get saved,” and it’s done.
But that’s not how Scripture sees it.
The Greek word most often translated as “salvation” is sozo—which means to heal, to make whole, to keep safe. It’s a medical term as much as a spiritual one.
Healing, as we know, is a process.
If you have a cold but don’t rest, eat poorly, and stay out late—you delay your healing. But if you care for your body, take medicine, nourish yourself—you recover.
Salvation works the same way.
In today’s passage, Paul writes:
“To us who are being saved...”
Not “were saved.”
Not “will be saved.”
Being saved.
Salvation is an ongoing process—what Scripture also calls sanctification. It’s the daily work of healing from our brokenness, being restored to the wholeness we were created for.
The Message of the Cross
Paul calls it the message of the cross—but what is that message?
Not just that Jesus died. Plenty of people have died sacrificial deaths.
The power of the cross is that Jesus showed us a new way of being human:
A way of self-giving love.
A way of grace and forgiveness.
A way of refusing to return evil for evil.
A way of seeing even your enemies as beloved children of God.
On the cross, Jesus demonstrated that salvation doesn’t come through domination or doctrine—but through radical compassion.
To be saved, then, is to join Jesus in that way of life.
To trust that his way leads to healing.
To follow his example of love, even when it’s hard.
To commit to being an instrument of peace and wholeness in a broken world.
Already and Not Yet
Theologians call this the “already, not yet” of salvation.
Already: In Christ, we have the promise of restoration.
Not yet: We are still in process, still becoming, still healing.
Salvation isn’t a magic spell. It’s not about escaping this world. It’s about being transformed within it—and becoming agents of that transformation for others.
So today, I want to invite you:
To trust in Jesus.
To walk in his way.
To open yourself to the Spirit’s healing work.
Because in Christ, you have been saved.
And in Christ, you are being saved.
This is the Good News.
And this is the journey we walk—together.
Amen.
Wow! I also grew up in a extremely conservative church who had altar calls. This language is so familiar.
The language you have introduced us to is beautiful and extremely meaningful in a soulful way. Thank you.