The Surgeon's Knife has Two Sides

This week my oncologist told me that of all persons with pancreatic cancer, only 15% are diagnosed while still in stage one (localized). I am, by God’s grace, a member of that modest faction. After pancreatic cancer has begun to spread, and surely after it has metastasized, surgery is ineffective. Only in the early stage is it most likely the tumor and its roots can be eliminated. But even then pancreatic cancers can hide and return. Cancer survivors must be vigilant to guard against that possibility. Thus, it is probable I will undergo months of post-surgery chemotherapy.

Of course the spiritual analogy shouts at us. Every one of us is born with a root of sin (called flesh), which is incapable of doing anything but growing and producing sin (tumors). And while the Cross, like the surgeon’s knife, has removed the tumor (Rom. 6:6, 11), the surrounding tissues of our heart still contain that nasty self-serving, self-loving, self-protecting thing we call flesh. (We are all too aware of its unwelcomed influence.) But, thank God, there are two sides to the surgeon’s knife (the Cross): one deals with the power of sin (eliminating the tumor); the other deals with ongoing presence of sin (like hidden cancer cells, waiting to return).

“Unless the knife is applied to the ‘flesh,’ it will always be ground for the enemy to attack, so as to weaken us in the conflict. The ‘flesh’ must be kept under the knife of the Cross… Our prayer must be: ‘Lord, apply the knife of the cross to every bit of the old life in me, where you can see it—down deep in the secret places I do not know.” (Jessie Penn Lewis, “The Conquest of Canaan”)