Matthew 21:23-32

 

Matthew 21:23-32 (NRSV)

²³ When he entered the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him as he was teaching, and said, “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” ²⁴ Jesus said to them, “I will also ask you one question; if you tell me the answer, then I will also tell you by what authority I do these things. ²⁵ Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?” And they argued with one another, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will say to us, ‘Why then did you not believe him?’ ²⁶ But if we say, ‘Of human origin,’ we are afraid of the crowd; for all regard John as a prophet.” ²⁷ So they answered Jesus, “We do not know.” And he said to them, “Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.

²⁸ “What do you think? A man had two sons; he went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’ ²⁹ He answered, ‘I will not’; but later he changed his mind and went. ³⁰ The father went to the second and said the same; and he answered, ‘I go, sir’; but he did not go. ³¹ Which of the two did the will of his father?” They said, “The first.” Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you. ³² For John came to you in the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him; and even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him.

 

Matthew 21:23-32 deals with the authority of Jesus. 

Matthew 21:23-27 (Mark 11:27-33, Luke 20:1-8) is a scholastic controversy dialogue around the theme of the authority of Jesus. Note that the words of Jesus are in the style of a sharp comeback, a wisecrack, riposte, retort, or rejoinder. His words are like an angry reply. It has an origin in the early decades of the Jewish-Christian church.[1]

Jesus entered the temple. The chief priests and the elders of the people approach him as he was teaching, an obvious focus of his gospel. Mark says Jesus is merely walking around and Luke that he is teaching and telling the good news. The concern of the religious leaders is that he has done things since he arrived in Jerusalem that makes them wonder who he thinks he is, and thus they asked him by what authority he has done what he did since he arrived in Jerusalem and who gave him that authority. The questions imply Jesus is not officially trained rabbi. He has entered Jerusalem with a crowd of supporters chanting, "Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord" (21:9)! He has cast out the moneychangers from the Temple area. One can understand the concern and caution of these religious leaders. Later, of course, these leaders will stand in judgment of Jesus and condemn him to death. The response from Jesus is to answer their question with another question. He wants to draw the answer out of them. in verses 24-25, he asked, I will also ask you one question; if you tell me the answer, then I will also tell you by what authority I do these things. Did the baptism of John come from heaven, an extravagant claim Jesus would make for John,[2] or was it of human origin? This question shows the significance his baptism by John held for Jesus. It suggests that the answer is that his authority rests on the baptism of John and what happened when he submitted to that baptism.[3]John the Baptist spoke and acted in challenging ways. He wants them to consider the authority John had with what he said and did. God may have called him, or he may act on his own will. If they can answer truthfully, then he will answer truthfully. If they can discern the divine origin of the ministry of John, then they should have the ability to discern the divine origin of the ministry of Jesus. For Jesus, the point is that just as the Baptist received his authority from God and not from human beings, so also does he claim such authority.[4] The response of the religious leaders is that they do not know the answer to his question, for if they say his authority came from heaven, then Jesus will ask why they did not believe him, but if they say of human origin, this would be unpopular with the crowd, who think of John as a prophet (14:5). It may mean they have not discussed or studied the matter enough. It may also mean a truthful answer would create problems with the people or with political leaders. They have approached Jesus as if he they had profound knowledge. Their reply is sheepish, as though they had no opinion or had not truly studied the issue thoroughly enough to make a judgment. Since they responded the way they did, Jesus responded, in verse 27 Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.” Jesus’ ultimate silence about this authority is not an evasion; rather, it is testimonial that his authority really does come from a source greater than these religious experts. Surely Matthew means for us to see the irony: Jesus has come, the long- awaited Messiah, the one to whom the Scriptures testify is here. And yet those keepers of the Scriptures, those who claim to be awaiting the Messiah, resist him, examine him, will seek to destroy him.

Matthew 21:28-32 (unique to Matthew) is a narrative parable of Jesus concerning two sons. In a Jewish parallel, various peasants refuse the commission of the king, but the last one accepts it, but does not carry it out, so with whom will the king be most angry? Matthew uses the parable to link together the discussion of John the Baptist in the previous confrontation and the second parable, another vineyard story, about the "wicked tenants." Jesus uses questions to expose the leaders, suggesting that actions rather than empty words are crucial. ²⁸ “What do you think? of his parable he is about to tell them. Such a question shows the parable having the character of an argument, in that it entices the hearer to a judgment upon the situation depicted, and then challenges the hearer to apply that judgment to the matter in hand.[5] A man, whom we are to think of as God, had two sons, whom we are to think of as John the Baptist on the one hand and the religious leaders on the other. He went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’ The father asks the first son to work in his vineyard. The work in the vineyard, then, which John the Baptist ends up doing and the priests do not, represents the work of religious renewal and rededication that John and Jesus awakened in Jewish believers. ²⁹ He answered, ‘I will not’; but later he changed his mind and went. He initially declines, but eventually does what his father asked. One surprising lesson at this point is that it is okay to say No to God. Granted, such persons, like all sinners, initially decline, being not inclined to obey God. Yet, they later repent, reforming their lives. We might say no to God because we are stubborn, afraid, doubtful, or we want to do something else. Given the choice -- labor in the field or spend another hour in front of TV -- what would one choose? The "No" grows out of a sense of being overworked. Can God demand too much of God's people? It might seem like it sometimes. There is a message of God about the compassionate and welcoming parent depicted in the father in the story. The father issues a clear directive and has confidence in the sons' ability to follow it. The father then allows the sons to make their own decisions on their adherence to his command. Like the father, Jesus is looking for followers who are not in mindless, lockstep precision but who, after reflection, are ready to give their all, and follow. This matter of authority and obedience is a difficult one. If we separate them completely, we encourage authoritarian behavior on the one side and doormat behavior on the other. Such separation perverts authority as well as obedience. A person with great authority who has nobody to be obedient to is in great spiritual danger. A very obedient person who has no authority over anyone is equally in danger.^[6] 30 The father went to the second and said the same; and he answered, ‘I go, sir’; but he did not go. ³¹ Which of the two did the will of his father?” The second son immediately gives an affirmative answer but decides not to do so later. Like religious leaders, this son officially and publicly agrees to obey God, but refuse to do the work of being representatives of God in the vineyard. We are to think of the vineyard at this point in the spiritual sense of the Jewish people as the people of God. They have a responsibility to cultivate the spiritual condition of these people. The question Jesus invites the religious leaders to ponder is which son did the will of his father. In this case, we are to think of the divine will as adherence to a specific command or ordinance.^[7]The parable poses a genuine dilemma for the normal Galilean family: which son, if either, is to receive commendation? In a society that makes honor and shame the fundamental choice, there is no right answer to the question.  Both shame their father.  Posing difficult social problems seems entirely consistent with Jesus. The obvious answer to the question is that the first son did the will of the father. In answering correctly, they condemn themselves for not doing the will of God as practiced and preached by Jesus. they miss a chance to change their minds or repent. Their response opens the door for the challenge from Jesus that the religious leaders are like the second son. Jesus told them, applying the parable to the conflict between Jesus and the religious leaders, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you. This sharp appeal to the religious leaders is in the form of a rebuke designed to provoke them to reconsider their relation to God and to the outcasts.[8] Such a paradoxical statement about those who belong to the rule of God testifies that the rule of God is a primary theme of the preaching of Jesus.[9] It emphasizes the role of forgiveness in the preaching and action of Jesus.[10] The parable vindicates the good news, the invitation rejected by the religious leaders but accepted by the despised ones.[11] Those for whom the religious leaders regard as beyond repentance are nearer to God than they are. they may have disobeyed the call of God, but they have shown sorrow and repentance and shall be admitted into the rule of God, but the religious leaders at risk of not entering.[12] These two groups – tax collectors and harlots – are completely outside the bounds of Torah, therefore outside the bounds of salvation and redemption. They are no better than the Gentile dogs. They are despised, forsaken groups who have absolutely no claim upon God – unless God in Jesus Christ has made a claim upon them. The story reminds us that Jesus spent time with tax collectors, prostitutes, and sinners, who will enter a life within the rule of God before the religious leaders. Those who think they are devout are not fulfilling the will of God. John brought the requests and desires of the Father to the children of Israel. The disobedient, such as tax collectors and sinners, repented of their course of life. Those who mouth pious platitudes are often those who do not do the will of the Father. For Jesus, the fruit of their ministry is the test of whether their actions come from God or from themselves. This story of compassion and forgiveness is good news for anyone who can remember moments of disobedience, times of ignoring the rules, or periods of poor choices. The arms of Jesus are open wide. For those who have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, there is a message of welcome and an invitation to try again. Past blunders will not be counted against them when they are followed by both a change of heart and a change of course. Followers will not be judged on their initial, often impulsive mistakes but rather on the final choices that lead them either closer or farther away from God. Jesus seems willing to look past the many weaknesses and failures in his followers and invites them to put their earlier bad choices behind them so that they can follow him. In verse 32, the application to the Baptist is surprising.  ³² For John came to you in the way of righteousness, an Old Testament expression suggesting he practiced and preached conformity to the will of God that makes a person upright,  and you did not believe him, but, people engaged in despised trades[13] like the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him; and even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him. The faith here is in the God to whom John pointed people.[14] He had found disobedience in those who by profession were the servant of God, and obedience from those whose way of life was ungodly.[15] This application gives a soteriological application to the parable. Such a judgment is like Luke 7:29-30, Jesus saying that when tax collectors received the baptism of John, they acknowledged the justice of God, but the Pharisees and scribes rejected the purpose of God for themselves by rejecting his baptism. Their piety and theology separates them from, leading them to pride and self-assurance, making their change of mind or repentance almost hopeless. Nothing separates people from God so profoundly as self-assured piety.[16] If tax collectors and sinners are repenting and reforming their lives through his ministry, then his ministry is a work of God. religious leaders reject the word of God while outcasts accept it.[17]

When I think of the first son, I think of the importance of rethinking a decision. Perseverance is usually a superior quality. Yet, “quitters” are often the ones willing to change and lead the way into the rule of God in their lives. All through history, winners have quit one thing and moved on to another. When we do not see a path forward to the point where we become stuck, the time has come to give up. This son reminds us of the truth contained in the saying of John Wesley, “Thou art never weary, O Lord, of doing us good.  Let us never be weary of doing thee service.”

Homiletical application

The second son presents a different dilemma. Soren Kierkegaard, in Works of Love, Chapter IIIA, refers to this text as a parable rarely heard preached. He thinks the text shows the danger of saying “Yes” in too great a hurry. The yes-brother was not a deceiver when he said yes, but became one when he failed to keep the promise. His eagerness became his snare. The yes of the promise is sleep inducing. The way that leads from no to repentance is easy to find. The no uttered, and then heard by him, was stimulating. Repentance was not far away. The one who says, “Sir, I will,” takes pleasure in the promise. The one who says no has fear of oneself. A no hides nothing. A yes can easily become self-deception, which of all difficulties is the most difficult to conquer. The saying that the road to hell is paved with good intentions is all too true. The most dangerous path for a human being is to go backward with good intentions and promises. We do not praise the son who said no, but the gospel warns us of the danger of saying, “Sir, I will.”Those of us within the church need to be honest about this. It is annoying when those people, those people who are not self-evidently good people, those people who are not well- formed church people, turn out to be such undeniably good people. What are we – we undeniably good well-informed, well-formed church people – to do with their unrestrained beneficence? Why would Jesus work such goodness among them, and not among us? Why are the demands of discipleship so easily fulfilled in their lives, and not ours? Perhaps, because they do not think of themselves as “good,” they are particularly capable of being good. Perhaps because they are not trying to be righteous, righteousness comes so easily to them. Or perhaps this strange phenomenon – the righteousness of the not self-evidently righteous – has more to do with the nature of Jesus than with the nature of people. Perhaps there is something about Jesus that tends toward the unrighteous, the not-so-morally virtuous, the less-than good people? If you are already basking in your own goodness, what goodness could I give you? And, to be honest, many of us enjoy basking in our own goodness. Perhaps, because we are basking in the light of our own righteousness, it is therefore more difficult for us to receive Christ’s light. I do not know. But what I do know is that there does seem to be an annoying tendency in Jesus to reach out to the “lost,” to work wonders among them. And there seems to be this complimentary annoying tendency of the “lost,” to respond to the reach of Jesus.[18]

Let us reflect upon the two sons. 

When I think of the first son, I think of the importance of rethinking a decision. Perseverance is usually a good quality. Yet, “quitters” are often the ones willing to change and lead the way into the rule of God in their lives. All through history, winners have quit one thing and moved on to another. We can begin with this Gospel. Matthew tells us that Jesus "left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the sea," where he began his ministry (4:13). Simon Peter and Andrew quit fishing and followed Jesus (4:20). Saul quit "breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord" and became an apostle (Acts 9:1-22). In addition, the quitting has continued, right up to the present day. Abraham Lincoln quit being an owner of a general store and entered politics. Julia Childs quit being a CIA intelligence officer and became a world-famous cook. Harrison Ford quit being a professional carpenter when someone offered him a part in a little movie called Star Wars. "Grandma" Moses quit selling potato chips and began to paint ... at age 80. Clearly, quitters sometimes win when they discover the upside of giving up. When do we decide our time has come to give up what we are doing? We should do so when our hearts are not in it. Passion and deriving meaning and significance from the course we have chosen in life is important. Life is too short. When we lose that, the time has come to stop persevering, quit, and do something new. When we do not see a path forward to the point where we become stuck, the time has come to give up. Of course, if we discern that our decisions have been our way of avoiding what God wants us to do, we need to give up and move on to something new. As Thomas Henry Huxley, put it, “The great end of life is not knowledge but action.” This son reminds us of the truth contained in the saying of John Wesley, “Thou art never weary, O Lord, of doing us good.  Let us never be weary of doing thee service.”

  The second son presents a different dilemma. Soren Kierkegaard, in Works of Love, Chapter IIIA, refers to this text as a parable rarely heard preached. He thinks the text shows the danger of saying “Yes” in too great a hurry. The yes-brother was not a deceiver when he said yes, but became one when he failed to keep the promise. His eagerness became his snare. The yes of the promise is sleep inducing. The way that leads from no to repentance is easy to find. The no uttered, and then heard by him, was stimulating. Repentance was not far away. The one who says, “Sir, I will,” takes pleasure in the promise. The one who says no has fear of oneself. A no hides nothing. A yes can easily become self-deception, which of all difficulties is the most difficult to conquer. The saying that the road to hell is paved with good intentions is all too true. The most dangerous path for a human being is to go backward with good intentions and promises. We do not praise the son who said no, but the gospel warns us of the danger of saying, “Sir, I will.”

Fortunately, Christians throughout history have wrestled with the question of what God wants them to do, and several techniques have been developed that can help us to discern God's will. Some of the best come from a 16th-century spiritual director named Saint Ignatius Loyola. 

Ignatius asks us first to clarify the goal of our life: To have a loving relationship with God. With this goal in mind, we can make several choices about how we will achieve this goal, and every choice should move us a little closer to God. We might start a business, go back to school, get married or change jobs. The important thing is to begin with the goal in mind: to follow Christ into an ever deeper and more loving relationship with God.

Once this goal is clarified, we can tackle the complexities of decision-making. This is when we figure out how to stop avoiding what God wants us to do, and how to start working in God's vineyard. If you're trying to decide between two activities, list the pros and cons, side by side, on a sheet of paper. Ask some friends what they think. Set aside some time for prayer, talk to God about your decision, and see if you are given greater clarity about your choice. Ignatius believed that "we can discern the right choice by attending to the inner movements of our spirit."

Sometimes, we must live with a sense of restlessness as God pushes us in a new direction. Other times, we feel peaceful about a decision but then discover that our serenity is really laziness in disguise. Ignatius wants us to continue examining our decisions and make choices that increase the feelings of faith, hope and love within ourselves.

The upside of giving up is that it puts us in a position to change our lives for the better. If we feel that we're avoiding what God wants us to do, we need to stop what we're doing, clarify goals and define what it means to have a loving relationship with God. We should figure out what changes need to be made in order to start using our time and talents as workers in God's vineyard. We ought to pay attention to the inner movements of our spirit, and make choices that will increase our faith, hope and love.

The good news is that by quitting, we might, in fact, be winners. Certainly, it is a win-win when we choose to follow Jesus and move into a more loving relationship with God.

---

[1] (Bultmann, New Testament and Mythology and Other Basic Writings, 1984), 20.

[2] (Jeremias, New Testament Theology: The Proclamation of Jesus, 1971), 46.

[3] (Jeremias, New Testament Theology: The Proclamation of Jesus, 1971), 56.

[4] (Bultmann, New Testament and Mythology and Other Basic Writings, 1984), 19-20.

[5] (Dodd, The Parables of the Kingdom, 1961), 11.

[6] Bread for the Journey, Henri Nouwen

[7] (Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, 1998, 1991)Volume 1, 381.

[8] (Jeremias, The Parables of Jesus, 1972), 127.

[9] (Jeremias, New Testament Theology: The Proclamation of Jesus, 1971), 96-7.

[10] (Jeremias, New Testament Theology: The Proclamation of Jesus, 1971), 116-7.

[11] (Jeremias, The Parables of Jesus, 1972), 80.

[12] (Jeremias, The Parables of Jesus, 1972), 125.

[13] (Jeremias, New Testament Theology: The Proclamation of Jesus, 1971), 109.

[14] (Jeremias, New Testament Theology: The Proclamation of Jesus, 1971), 162.

[15] (Jeremias, The Parables of Jesus, 1972), 80.

[16] (Jeremias, New Testament Theology: The Proclamation of Jesus, 1971), 151.

[17] (Dodd, The Parables of the Kingdom, 1961), 93.

[18] William Willimon, Pulpit Resource, 2005.

Philippians 2:1-13

 

Philippians 2:1-13 (NRSV)

 If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love, any sharing in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy, ² make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. ³ Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. ⁴ Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. ⁵ Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,

⁶ who, though he was in the form of God,

did not regard equality with God

as something to be exploited,

⁷ but emptied himself,

taking the form of a slave,

being born in human likeness.

And being found in human form,

⁸      he humbled himself

and became obedient to the point of death—

even death on a cross. 

⁹ Therefore God also highly exalted him

and gave him the name

that is above every name,

¹⁰ so that at the name of Jesus

every knee should bend,

in heaven and on earth and under the earth,

¹¹ and every tongue should confess

that Jesus Christ is Lord,

to the glory of God the Father. 

¹² Therefore, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed me, not only in my presence, but much more now in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; ¹³ for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure.

 

                        Philippians 2:1-4 is an exhortation to harmony and humility. In verses 1-2, Paul encourages the congregation to have a shared vision and purpose. ¹If then there is any encouragement in Christ, an external principle, any consolation from love, an inward feeling inspired by Christ, any sharing in the Spirit, an external principle, any compassion and sympathy, internal feelings by the Spirit, ² make my joy complete, something he assumes they would want to do: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Paul wants them to have a shared mind-set. This is not just thinking or feeling in general, but to center thoughts on something. He offers an important example of what a live worthy or correspond to the gospel (1:27) would look like. Paul assumes that Christ encourages them. He assumes that love consoles them. He assumes they share the Spirit. Here is the basis for his appeal for peace and harmony within the community. He also assumes they want him to think of them joyfully when he thinks of them. Thus, his exhortation or appeal is that they have a common mind and love. If they do, they will not have a party spirit. Such a common purpose reduces individualism and fosters shared mission. Common place implies that we should pursue spiritual community within our geographic community. And finally, we should have some common possessions to combat consumerism and foster interdependence.[1] Verses 3-4 offer a way of life together that embraces the gift of mutual deference. It usually leads to compromise. It promotes listening to understand rather than listening to respond. ³ Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. ⁴ Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Further, he urges them to reject the exaltation of self that comes from selfish ambition and conceit. His concern is that amid the dangers of this world, they need to experience the deeper bonds of fellowship and friendship. His advice reminds me of the concerns of popular modern authors. Robert Fulghum gave a long list of things he learned in Kindergarten that he would then apply to adult life.  One item on the list was this: "When you go out into the world, watch for traffic, hold hands, and stick together."[2]  Rather, in reflecting upon the life of Christ, as he will do in a moment, they are to have humility, regarding others as better than they are. They need to look beyond their interests and toward the interests of others. 

            One of the joyful memories I have of childhood is watching the cartoon show the Jetsons, airing only in 1962-3. It stimulated my imagination as to the technological advance humanity would make. Certain futuristic thinkers will try to predict what some of those advances will be in a hundred years. Yet, one thing is certain. The advice Paul gives here will still be timely and relevant. Human nature is such that the pull is always toward an inappropriate focus upon self. We develop opinions and gather others who share that opinion to the point of harming genuine human community.

How often do we come to church only to return home with the impression that we are not good enough, that we are falling short of the mark and that we have to try harder to please God (and perhaps hearing an implied "or else!" in our mind)? There may be times when such a message is appropriate, but more often, most of us who regularly participate in congregational life, do so with a true commitment to follow Jesus, a real desire to be God's person and a genuine intention to live by the example and teachings of Jesus.

That is why, most of the time, coming to church, coming to worship, singing, praying, and studying with other Christians, should be a time, not of scolding, but of encouraging. We want to encourage each other to keep growing and maturing in faith. We may stumble now and then when we try to apply our faith in specific situations -- after all, the humility that enables us to "regard others as better than [our]selves" does not come naturally to most of us -- but, even when we fail, we usually are not chucking our commitment, desire and intentions out the window. 

Thus, part of the reason for coming to church is to bolster those commitments, desires, and intentions. Christians cannot simply take for granted the privilege of living among other Christians. The physical presence of other Christians is a source of joy and strength to the individuals who form their life together. Christians cannot survive as people of faith, hope, and love alone. When the people of God come together to share their lives openly and freely, accepting each other with a kind of unconditional positive regard, there is a sort of social-spiritual 'chemistry' that emerges, and those who come together experience a delightful cohesion and sense of belonging. Of course, not all Christians receive the blessing of life together. Some are in prison, some are sick, some are lonely, and some of those who proclaim the gospel stand alone. Such persons are deeply aware of the blessing of visible fellowship.[3] As I write these words, I am mindful of the many painful experiences I have had as a pastor of congregations. Admittedly, not every congregational experience is "delightful" or brings a "sense of belonging," but our mutual efforts, to be of the same mind "that was in Christ Jesus," move congregational life in that direction.

A reporter once asked Vince Lombardi about his team's greatest strength. Lombardi responded, "The greatest strength any champion can hold is humility."[4] Human beings often have great confidence that they know what they need for the journey of life. A photograph contains the image of an elegantly dressed woman who is holding a cup of coffee.  She had her little finger bent ever so daintily, and her face reveals complete self-assurance.  Unfortunately, this woman does not yet know that her slip has collapsed around her feet.  The caption reads, “Confidence is what you have before you understand the situation.”  Humanity is so much like that. We think we know the way. We think we know what is best for us. We think we do not need grace. Religious leaders who eventually contributed to the crucifixion of Jesus were confident in their judgment. The Romans were confident they knew what motivated Jesus. Humility keeps us moving downward. Hudson Taylor, one of the great missionaries in history, said that our fathers and mothers, our sisters and brothers, even the very cat and dog in the house, should be happier because we are Christians.  Are they?  Humility represents an honest appraisal of human life. We are here for such a brief time. The things at which we grasp and cling to so tightly, one day will pass from our hands. Humility recognizes that the things of this earth that take up so much of our time and energy will not be with us forever. 

I came across a story of a little girl who lived near Princeton University. She had trouble with math. However, she suddenly started improving. Her mother asked her why. The girl responded that she heard about a professor in town who was good at numbers. She rang his doorbell one day to ask him for help. He taught her every day since then. Her mother asked her who he was. She responded she was not sure, but “it’s something like Einstein.” The story is too perfect to be an event in history. Yet, it would be wonderful if it happened. Yet, even if not, it likely says something about the spirit of Albert Einstein. It also lifts before us an example of what humility would like. What would such a virtue look like in our lives?

 

Philippians 2:5-11 has the theme of the example of Christ Jesus for the church in Philippi in how they were to treat each other. In inviting them to consider a life worthy of the gospel (1:27), Paul is going to suggest that regardless of any human examples one may find, what Christ did is for Christians is the supreme example of how we are to treat each other. What Paul will say here is of great interest in Christian reflection upon Christology. Yet, we need to remember that the purpose of this section is to support his previous exhortation to the community. Considering what Christ Jesus has done, Paul says, they as readers are to act out their partnership in relation to each other. He knows their relation to Christ will be the strongest appeal he can make when he offers his exhortation to proper Christian behavior and discipleship. Paul writes this letter from prison, using himself as an example of patient dependence upon God. He now shows that Christ subjected himself to the limits of a human life to become Savior. Christ becomes an example of how Christians are to submit to each other. Christ willingly submits to the will of God. Some scholars think that Philippians as known in the canon is a "multiple letter" reconstruction. If so, then 2:5-11 is part of Letter B, which implies that Paul is writing this correspondence from prison (Philippians 1:7, 13, 17). The realization that Paul is writing from prison makes the message of Philippians 2:5-11 much more powerful than it might otherwise have been. After describing his own subjugation to the ruling authorities and using his own suffering as an example of patient dependence upon God, Paul uses this perfect opening to describe how Christ subjected himself to the constraints of human existence to become the Savior of humanity. It also provides him with a compelling model for Christian submission to each other. 

In the process of providing the supreme example of humility, however, Paul will write some of the most important statements regarding who Christ is. The hymn becomes a common confession of the faith of those gathered for worship. It shows that early in the life of the church was a felt need to express through a fixed text that which unites them before God.[5] The image of Christ portrayed in the hymn of verses 6-11 is one of willing submission to the will of God. This text offers what may very well be one of the oldest Christological reflections in the entire New Testament. If this is indeed the case, the theology behind this hymn represents not only Paul’s own thoughts, but also the Christological convictions of the first generation of believers. The hymn is the basis for the theological tradition making a distinction between two phases of the history of Jesus in terms of a state of humiliation and a state of exaltation, based on the preexistence of Christ.[6] Paul either appeals to an early hymn from Antioch, of which we have examples in Colossians 1:15-20, II Timothy 2:11-13, and Ephesians 5:14, or he constructs his own hymn along the lines of the exalted prose of I Corinthians 13.[7] Christian teaching regarding Jesus, Christology, often thinks of two phases of the history of Jesus, referring to the exaltation and glorification of life with the Father, and the humility of his life with humanity. Paul will use a word that has become important to Christian teaching. In Greek, the word is “kenosis.” It will carry a double meaning that is difficult to communicate with any one word in English. 

In verse 5, Christians are not just to acknowledge what the mind of Christ is, but they are to allow that mind of humility and obedience to shape their lives. ⁵ Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.This does not mean Paul is implying that the folks there were not already sincere in their faith and in their living of it. However, he is calling for them to keep growing and maturing in the faith, to keep moving toward the example of Jesus. He is appealing to what they already know about themselves in Christ. He is urging them to put aside all competition and internal strife. Paul appeals to Christ as the pattern for the behavior of the community. If they listen to Paul, they will have a common, shared approach to each other. Christ will be the heart of that commonality. The basis for his encouragement is their relationship as believers to Christ rather than Torah.[8] Therefore, those who differ can still have unity of spirit that makes them want to put others in the group first and look beyond their personal interests. 

In verses 6-8, Paul describes the first part of the life of Christ, the path of his humiliation. The nature of that humiliation provides a place of debate. The incarnating mission of Christ becomes a pattern for the incarnating mission of local congregations. Paul helps the Philippians remember that Jesus Christ began his life in a unique way: ⁶ who, though he was in the form (μορφῇ) of God. This language recalls the Old Testament view of humanity. In Genesis 1:26-27, God makes humanity in the image and likeness of the divine. In Psalm 8:5, God crowned humanity with glory and honor. Paul refers to such passages again in I Corinthians 11:7, where he refers to the male as the image and reflection of God. The difference is that Christ being the “form” of God meant that he had equality with God. Yet, Christ did not regard equality with God as something to exploit, language that invites us to reflect upon Genesis 2-3. It may hint that the temptation to the pre-existent Christ was there to be independent of God. Adam, made in the image of God, sought equality with God through his disobedience to the will of God. Adam sought a divine status through taking what did not belong to him. The promise of the serpent in Genesis 3:5 was the hope of being like God. In contrast, Christ, who enjoyed unity with God, relinquished divinity for the sake of humanity. Adam exploited his unique position in creation by trying to raise himself up through his disobedience. Christ did not see his singular position as an opportunity for special privilege. Christ seized an opportunity for special and sacrificial service. Such an understanding helps us to see that human destiny is toward fellowship with God. However, taking this destiny into our hands is where we withdraw from that destiny. Our destiny becomes a temptation for us. When we grasp at our destiny as if it were our prey, which we can do through both religious cultivation of our life with the divine or by emancipation from all religious ties, we will miss our destiny. We can achieve our destiny only through acknowledging our distinction from God, accepting our finitude, and accepting ourselves as creatures of God.^[9] The Son resisted the temptation to remain within the divine fellowship he already had with Father and Spirit. Here is the clue we need. A deity has certain privileges, powers, and prerogatives and a status, a standing, a rank above all others. In status-conscious Philippi, Paul is trying to stress that Christ stripped himself of his divine privileges and status and took on the responsibilities, limitations, and status of a human being, indeed of a servant among human beings, the lowest of the low. In other words, we should read this passage in a social way, considering the given social order in Philippi. Just as Paul is not asking the Philippians to give up their Roman citizenship and the identity which comes with that to truly be a citizen of the heavenly commonwealth, so he is not suggesting that Christ gave up his heavenly identity to be a human being. What he gave up was his privileges and status to self-sacrificially serve others and even die for them. The Philippians are also to take on the mindset of Christ and so not view their social status and privileges as they have in the past, which should lead to different and more self-sacrificial behavior. Paul thus underlines the exhortation to not look to one’s own interests but to the interests of others (v. 4). A dramatic picture of this is the foot-washing episode in John 13:5-17. For the Son to be truly human, he took on the limitations we all naturally face — of time, space, knowledge, power, and mortality. … But Paul also says that the Son took on the limitations of the lowest of human beings — of persons sold in a market, those who were the property of others, whose lives were not their own, who were under authority and went and did what they were told to go and do.[10]

Thus, rather than remain in the fellowship with the Father and Spirit, the Son ⁷ emptied (ἐκένωσεν) himself. Normally, we think of "empty" in a negative way. We do not want to be empty-headed, to have empty minds, empty gas tanks or empty bank accounts. We run to the grocery store when the pantry is empty. Shopkeepers rush to stock their shelves when inventory runs low. Empty words. Empty life. Empty glass. Empty stomach. All bad. Yet, Paul reminds us that preexistent "emptied himself" and became a servant. True, this could refer to the human Jesus emptying himself throughout the course of his life in service to others. If so, it would be like the act of service we find in John 13, where Jesus knew his unity with the Father and therefore (!) washed the feet of the disciples.[11] It may refer to the historical path of Jesus. Yet, I want to suggest that he is also referring to the path of the pre-existent Son entering earthly existence. The Kenotic view of Christology explains how the fully divine Son became the historical Jesus of Nazareth. Is it possible that if we experienced a good emptying of ourselves (because many of us are too "full of ourselves") that in that empty space God might pour in "compassion," "sympathy," "love" and "humility"? 

Translators insist that we lose something precious in making the translation. Some words, of course, seem translatable only by a few words. They do not have exact equivalents in English. They at least hint at the possibility that another culture has experienced something for which it found a word to describe while those in English-speaking cultures lack a similar experience. It reminds us of the power of words. Words allow us to represent the natural, social, and private world we experience to others. They allow us to engage others and learn. The value of English at this point is that it can adopt words from another language. We call them loan words. The language becomes richer and increases its complexity. Heuristic is a word usually primarily in philosophy, psychology, and theology. Other good examples from the fields of religion and philosophy would be Nirvana and Tao. We may not precisely know what they mean, but we have a set of words in our minds that helps most of us make sense of a sentence that uses them. In Christian worship, the Hebrew word Hallelujah or even Shalom evoke certain images and experiences for us. Our language of worship has expanded because of this ability to absorb loan words. 

In Scientific American, Tim Lomas writes about the magic of untranslatable words. He started by listing 216 of these words but found that the list kept growing. It now stands at 601. He has discovered that exploring these foreign terms can make our own lives richer.^[12] Working with untranslatable words, says Lomas, is like diving into "a deep and mystifying ocean." So let us take the plunge!

 

Kenosis means "emptiness," but has deeper significance in that in this context it communicates the self-emptying that Christ voluntarily offered on the cross. It begins with the Son, in living and eternal relationship with the Father and Spirit, who set aside his divinity to become human. Kenosis at this level reveals the distinction of the Son from the Father and subordination of the Son to the Father. The divine Son completely identifies with sinful humanity. This act of divine self-emptying was the path for the divine to enter the world of humanity without becoming unlike the divine. In fact, to say it philosophically, the self-emptying of the Son becomes the path for the self-actualizing of the deity of the Trinitarian God in relation to the world. To say it personally and devotionally, the Trinitarian God shows humanity what God is like by showing up in the one who lived his life as a servant, Jesus of Nazareth. The Son sets aside the equality of divine life with Father and Spirit, but through his obedience during his earthly life remains the Son. The fullness and completeness of his obedience reveals Jesus as the pre-existent Son. Yet, we also see the course of the earthly life of the Son as one of self-emptying as he lives in obedience to God. The human life of Jesus contrasts with Adam, who disobeyed God and hid from God. He forfeited his fellowship with God, while Jesus during his life remained in fellowship with the Father and the Spirit. Adam wanted to be like God by turning from God and choosing a path for himself. Jesus emptied himself in his obedience and thus remained in the likeness of God as the Son. The course of the life of Jesus is one of self-emptying and humbling that led to the cross. Thus, the hymn embraces both the path of the pre-existent Son and the path of the earthly life of Jesus. The result is that such self-emptying, such kenosis, is a genuine expression of divinity. If you want to see what God is like, look here, at the kenotic life of the Son. Kenosis becomes the free expression of the will to love. It reveals the core of divine reality, that God is love. The form of a servant concealed divine glory. Kenosis fulfills Isaiah 52-53 as the servant willingly undergoes suffering and humiliation for the sake of others. The divine essence offers itself freely for the reconciliation and redemption of the world. His death “for us” is in solidarity with the Father and in solidarity with humanity. We can see divine majesty in the cross. Jesus was Lord most meaningfully in the depth of his life as a servant of the Lord and in serving others. 

People have sometimes thought that this means that Jesus, having been divine up to that point, somehow stopped being divine when he became human, and then went back to being divine again. Jesus was indeed already equal with God; somehow Paul is saying that Jesus already existed even before he became a human being. But the decision to become human, and to go all the way along the road of obedience, obedience to the divine plan of salvation, yes, all the way to the cross — this decision was not a decision to stop being divine. It was a decision about what it really meant to be divine. Jesus did not regard this equality as something to take advantage of, something to exploit. Rather, the eternal son of God, the one who became human in and as Jesus of Nazareth, regarded his equality with God as committing him to the course he took: of becoming human, of becoming Israel’s anointed representative, of dying under the weight of the world’s evil. This is what it meant to be equal with God. As you look at the incarnate son of God dying on the cross the most powerful thought you should think is: this is the true meaning of who God is. He is the God of self-giving love.[13]

Instead of remaining within the divine life, the Son, taking the form (μορφὴν) of a slave, being born in human likeness (ὁμοιώματι), ⁸And being found in human form (σχήματι, appearance), showing love for humanity by becoming one with humanity.^[14] The drastic contrast between the “form of God” and the “form of a servant” is quite explicit. The form and equality with God are placed in stark contrast to the form of a slave and the likeness of humankind. Although much has been written on the meaning of the verb “to empty,” it is unclear what took place in this transaction of “emptying.” It is clear, however, that Jesus voluntarily took the role of the servant because of the way he thought. He did not count, reckon or consider equality with God to be his goal (v. 6). Instead, he took on a form that was not originally his own (vv. 7-8) and adopted that form to the extreme. We can see the complete identification of the divine Christ with humanity. Such self-emptying, in philosophical terms, is the self-actualizing of the deity of the Trinitarian God in the relation of God and world and comes into being through this self-actualizing.^[15] The divine freely engages this self-offering. Self-emptying will lead to self-humiliation. In all of this, the Son remains divine, which simply means that God does not become a stranger to God by this process of self-emptying in Jesus of Nazareth. In fact, self-emptying and self-humiliation reveal divinity. In this sense, Jesus is the new human being. Yet, he humbled (ἐταπείνωσεν)himself and became obedient (ὑπήκοος) to the point of death. Christ lived his life in obedience to the Father. This is what sets Jesus apart from the rest of humanity and will become the basis for his exaltation. As he argued in Romans 5:12ff, Paul states in a poetic form here, that the course of the life of Jesus of Nazareth was one of obedience to God. The Son has reversed the act of Adam. Christ sheds light on the original situation of Adam and therefore on our human nature and destiny in relation to God. The allusion to Isaiah 53:12 seems clear, where the suffering servant pours out his life to the point of death. Yet, he also humbled himself by setting aside his divine equality to adopt the human form of existence. Such self-emptying becomes an expression of divinity. His equality with the Father was not the only possibility for the Son. In actualizing this other possibility, the Son shows the true essence of divinity. Such self-emptying is the free expression of the will to love. It shows that God is love. The Son accepted a form in which the world would not recognize, and in which concealed divine glory. The suffering servant of Isaiah 52-3 undergoes suffering and humiliation for the sake of others. 

Then, in an apparent addition by Paul to the ancient hymn, he emphasizes a typical theme of his, in stressing that the obedience of Christ led not to just any death, but ^[16]-- even death on a cross. He did not just die a normal death. He died one of the most terrible deaths imaginable — death on a cross. The course of the pre-existent Son and the course of Jesus of Nazareth unite in the self-humbling involved in the cross.^[17] A careful reading of the hymn makes it clear that Christ emptied self, served, and died — without promise of reward. The extraordinary fact of Christ’s act was that at the cross the future was closed. The door was locked; his obedient service came at the bitter end.[18] The grave of Christ was a cave, not a tunnel. Christ acted in our behalf without view of gain. That is precisely what God has exalted and vindicated: self-denying service for others to the point of death with no claim of return, no eye upon a reward.[19]

Paul sees in the cross an action of God in Christ.^[20] The life of Christ, in the special sense that his death was “for us,” is a journey to this death. Yes, he lived in solidarity with others. More importantly, he lived in solidarity with God.^[21] We see divine majesty in the cross. Jesus was never greater as Lord than in this depth of servanthood that led to the cross.^[22] Paul has offered to his readers an astoundingly humble and obedient act of Incarnation and crucifixion as supreme examples of the kind of behavior he is advocating.^[23]

It would not have been shocking to Gentiles to hear that their God had chosen to take on human form. They had heard such stories about Zeus and Hermes, among others. But to be told that their God had chosen to become a slave among humans — that was a quite different story, a shocking story because it deconstructed everything they thought was written in stone about the hierarchical nature of reality and relationships and about all their honor and shame codes. It was one thing to have a Saturnalia, when slaves became masters and vice versa for a day. It was another matter entirely to suggest that one equal to God (and not just any god but the only true God) came in person to earth and chose to become a slave and live his whole life that way, including the manner of his death.[24]

As we shift to verses 9-11, the hymn describes the path of the exaltation of the Son in his resurrection and ascension. Christian communal life is one that anticipates the future, eschatological exaltation of Jesus Christ with all human beings and of all creation. By implication, then, we need to ask ourselves if we are properly exalting Christ today in anticipation of this promised future. The Westminster Shorter Catechism puts it this way: “The chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever.” Glorifying God. Exalting God. Lifestyle worship. Making him famous. Total lordship of Christ. Choose your words, but the concept is the same. ⁹ Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name. His exaltation confirms that he lived in obedience to the mission God gave him. It confirms that he was the obedient Son of the Father.[25] This ancient hymn views the resurrection and ascension as a single event of exaltation.[26] Only his resurrection from the dead gave the Crucified the dignity of Lord.[27] The result is ¹⁰ so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth. Jesus is a name about which people have preached many sermons, which has transformed lives, on behalf of which people have fanned out to the corners of the earth. It is a name so powerful that bodies have received healing, people have built hospitals and established schools in that name, and people have experienced rescue and received forgiveness of sin. All of it — in this name, Jesus! And yet, the name itself is not extraordinary. In fact, in its time, it was quite a common name, like Bob, Dick and Harry are for ours. The Jewish historian Josephus cynically observed that he knew at least 20 people named Jesus. So, what is so special about this Jesus? The name, Jesus, like most popular Hebrew names, has theological significance. Its traditional etymology would be something like “God (Yahweh) saves.” Matthew draws upon this tradition in his birth narrative when the Lord’s messenger indicates to Joseph that “you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins” (1:21). This is an extraordinary claim, but it is implicit in all those who bear that common Hebrew name. What is so special about this Jesus? Every knee bends, ¹¹ and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. The risen Lord has the authority to rule. The risen Lord is now preparing the way for that rule.[28] Such a confession that Jesus Christ is Lord honors the glory of the Father and enhances the confession of the one God.[29]

The Christological tradition closely followed this hymn. It understood the Incarnation of the Son as his course toward the humiliation on the cross. The Incarnation of the Logos is completed on the cross. Jesus is born to face his passion. He has fulfilled his mission once his Father abandoned him on the cross. One cannot speak of a theology of the Incarnation without it leading to a theology of the cross. God became the kind of human being we do not want to be as an outcast, accursed, and crucified. Yes, behold this man. It becomes a confession of faith that recognizes the humanity of God in the dehumanized Jesus on the cross. Behold, here is your God, hanging upon the cross. The Incarnation is the humiliation of God, where God is fully at one within God and fully at one with the dehumanized other. This death corresponds to the divine nature in contradiction of abandonment. Yes, Jesus is the image of the invisible God, but this means that God is like this, the one who is with the dehumanized other. God is glorious in this self-surrender. God is powerful in this form of helplessness. God is fully God in this dehumanized form of humanity. Everything Christianity has to say about God is found in this, the Christ event. The Christ event is an event in God as well. God has acted and has gone on to suffer. In this event, God is love with all the being of God. The being of the divine encompasses the human being. The event of the cross in the being of God is both trinitarian and personal. Christian theology begins with the person of Christ and understands the relationship of the death of the Son to the Father and the Spirit. The entire doctrine of the kenosis, the self-emptying of God, attempted to understand the divine being in process. The divine being enters into the suffering of the Son and in so doing is and remains completely divine. As such, theology must be able to question the traditional theory of the immutability of God and the impassibility of the divine nature. The cross forces us to reflect upon death occurring in God.[30]

My mind goes to a hymn at this point.

At the Name of Jesus (1870)

At the Name of Jesus, every knee shall bow,
Every tongue confess Him King of glory now;
’Tis the Father’s pleasure we should call Him Lord,
Who from the beginning was the mighty Word.

 

Lift High the Cross 1916

Lift high the cross, the love of Christ proclaim,
Till all the world adore His sacred Name.

 

A praise song poetically recounts the course of the ancient hymn.

Lord, I lift Your name on high 
Lord, I love to sing Your praises 
I'm so glad You're in my life 
I'm so glad You came to save us 

You came from heaven to earth 
To show the way 
From the earth to the cross 
My debt to pay 
From the cross to the grave 
From the grave to the sky 
Lord, I lift Your name on high

 

Such a hope can give one the confidence, patience, and endurance to withstand the difficulties of life. For Paul, life was difficult as well.  As Paul writes this letter, he is in prison.  In just a few years, Nero will have him killed. Throughout his life, however, he confronted many obstacles to his preaching. In addition to the pressures among those who were not Christians, he had battles within the church as well. He designed his missionary preaching to be inclusive of other people.  Some wanted Christianity to remain a small sect within Judaism.  Many of Paul's letters reflect that kind of battle going on within the church as well.  Yes, life was difficult for Paul.  Yet, despite the evidence to the contrary which arose from his own life, he could affirm his own hope that life does not end with the difficulties, but one must see beyond those difficulties to the hope that all of life will find its completion in Christ.

A son loses his father.  He turns to me when he hears the news and says: "How could God do this?" What could I say?  What would you say?

Life can be difficult for us as well.  What do we do?  We can get so focused upon the difficulties that we forget the hope.  We can give up.  

The ultimate in giving up, of course, is suicide.  It seems a way of saying to the world: "I give up on God.  I give up on my family friends.  I give up on myself."  

Some people give up by becoming victims of their past.  Counselors and psychologists spend so much of their time and energy dealing with the emotional scars that relationships with parents have left. All our parents were imperfect. It should humble all of us as parents that our own children will undoubtedly have scars from their relationship with us with which they will need to deal.  And yet, too many, it seems to me, blame their past for their present unhappiness.  Does there not come a time when we simply must take responsibility for own lives and our happiness?  

Some people give up by staying in unhappy situations.  I wonder.  How many people are in jobs they do not like, or neighborhoods in which they no longer are happy?  How many are in relationships that no longer meet their deepest needs?  It is so easy just to stay in situations like that.  It is safe.  It is also so cynical.  It is really a way of saying that we do not deserve to be happy, or that there is no such thing as happiness for us.  It is much harder to summon the courage to take the risk that there just might be happiness out there for us.

With all the difficulties which life presents us, we can have the same hope that the apostle Paul had:

The Son emptied himself (kenosis) of divinity to become one of us, to show us the path of obedience to God, while yet remaining divine. The implication is that as Adam experienced temptation and disobeyed, the temptation of the Son was to remain within the divine fellowship he already had with Father and Spirit. Yet, out of love for humanity, he became one with us. He willingly endured the shame of the cross to remain obedient to God. He was in solidarity with the Father, even as he gave his life in solidarity with us. This example of Jesus leads to our reflection upon discipleship, for we need to willingly put aside our rights and serve each other. This path of discipleship does not seek honor the way human beings do. Rather, one receives honor as a gift from God through the promise of eternal life with God. 

I do not pretend that kenosis will become a loan word from the Greek in our ordinary speech. Today, however, I hope such reflections raise several important questions for us as we seek to follow Jesus today. Kenosis is a word that is difficult, captivating, and full of significance for anyone trying to follow Jesus Christ.  The point Paul is making is not just a statement about who God is. Rather, his point is that if God is like that, then you are to be of the same mind and attitude in your life. If the Son had this kind of kenotic love, then we are to be of the same mind and have the same love, namely, a kenotic mind and love. That is the discipleship challenge Paul offers us. What might such a life look like? It will invite us to look at life differently. 

To receive blessing, be a blessing to others.

To receive love, give love.

To receive honor, first be humble.

To live truly, die to yourself.

To gain the unseen, let go of the seen.

To receive, first give.

To save your life, lose it.

To lead, be a servant.

To be first, be last.

 

Grasping at things and people is a natural human trait. We think we gain some significance to our lives if we can bring certain things and relationships in our sphere of influence. This is true. We express our worth and dignity by engaging the world around us. It becomes sinful when we grasp and cling to things and relationships in a way that asserts our superiority over others. One of the difficult life lessons we need to learn is that our worth and dignity does not have to be at the expense of others. 

One way of imagining maturity in life is to think of approaching life with an open hand toward others. Grasping and clinging represent a basic anxiety and lack of trust. We cannot genuinely care for others while at the same time grasping and clinging to the things that we think give our lives meaning and significance. Yet, one day, we will leave the things at which we grasp as we enter eternity. Humility and generosity represent an honest appraisal of this human life. When we approach life with an open hand, we willingly empty ourselves of personal claims and become open to others. When we reject grasping at life, we free ourselves to accompany others in their journey through life, rejoicing with them, suffering with them, and bearing their burdens. Grasping at life can be a lonely way of life. Emptying ourselves of such claims, we approach life with greater humility and love. I have a suspicion that Jesus himself emptied himself of his unique position with God, willingly bearing the burdens and sins of others, even to the point of a cross. God honors this life of emptiness, humility, and love. 

I offer a prayer.

Today, in a world in which it seems as if violence is so close to overwhelming us, we are grateful that Jesus Christ was victorious through love, and not through violence. He soothes our deepest terror and points the way to the peace for which we long. Help us learn the meaning and power of glory through Christ. Even though one with the Father in eternity, he took the form of a servant, sharing human life and struggles. Just as Jesus experienced deepest distress in this last week of his life, we know that we have no exemption from the stresses and trials of a human life. Yet, we have the delight of your presence, as any darkness we may experience will yield to the light. Hold tenderly in your arms all who are weary, embattled, and shattered, until, strength, spent, they become empty, open vessels of your Spirit. Then, they can experience the light of your resurrection.

A RECOLLECTION OF JESUS

Let us remember Jesus:

Who, though he was rich, yet for our sakes became poor and dwelt among us.

Who was content to be subject to his parents, the child of a poor man's home.

Who lived for nearly thirty years the common life, earning his living with his own hands and declining no humble tasks .

Whom the common people heard gladly, for he understood their ways. Let us remember Jesus

Who was mighty in deed, healing the sick and the disordered, using for others the powers he would not invoke for himself .

Who refused to force men's allegiance.

Who was Master and Lord to his disciples, yet was among them ag their companion and as one who served.

Whose meat was to do the will of the Father who gent him. Let us remember Jesus:

Who loved people yet retired from them to pray, rose a great while before day, watched through a night, stayed in the wilderness, went up into a mountain, sought a garden.

Who, when he would help a tempted disciple, prayed for him.

Who prayed for the forgiveness of those who rejected him, and for the perfecting of those who received him.

Who observed good customs, but defied conventions which did not serve the purposes of God.

Who hated sin because he knew the cost of pride and selfishness, of cruelty, and Impurity, to man, and still more to his Father in heaven.

Let us remember Jesus

Who believed in people to the last and never despaired of them.

Who through all disappointment never lost heart.

Who disregarded his own comfort and inconvenience, and thought first of others' needs, and, though he suffered long, was always kind. Who, when he was reviled, reviled not again, and when he suffered, threatened not.

Who humbled himself and carried obedience to the point of death, even death on the cross, wherefore God has highly exalted him. 

May this mind be in us which was in Jesus Christ. Amen.

In Philippians 2: 12-13, continues the application of his exhortation that began in 1:27 to live lives worthy of the gospel and to stand firm in one spirit. Paul now suggests that the catalyst to lives worthy of the gospel and to letting the mind of Christ shape our lives is a partnership between God and the people of God. We become partners in spiritual growth and co-creators of a new life. The theme of the hymn was humility and obedience.  ¹² Therefore, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed me, as Christ obeyed, so should they, but much more now in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, suggesting an anxiousness to do what is right. ¹³ for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure. In context, the point is reformation of church life. He does not see salvation in personal terms here.  They are to work out that reformation.  They depend upon the power of God for the needed corporate salvation. In terms of later theology, we think of this as the working of prevenient and cooperative grace. Leading a life worthy of the gospel is not easy. Yet, the difficult path is also the path that leads to happiness. Scott Peck wrote a popular work called, The Road Less Traveled.  He begins the book with this truth: "Life is difficult."   We all know it.  Yet, he says, so many of us act as if life should be easy.  When it is not, we get angry, frustrated, irritated, and depressed.  Such recognition of the difficult course of a human life is not new.

If the way which I have pointed out as leading to this result seems exceedingly hard, it may nevertheless be discovered. Needs must it be hard, since it is so seldom found. How would it be possible, if salvation were ready to our hand, and could without great labour be found, that it should be by almost all men neglected? But all things excellent are as difficult as they are rare.[31]

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[1] Frazee, Randy. The Connecting Church: Beyond Small Groups to Authentic Community. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 2001.

[2] (All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten)

[3] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together, 1954.

[4] --Brent Nidiffer and Jamie Shell, "Redemptive humility," Heartlight Magazine, August 3, 2001.

[5] - Oscar Cullman, The Earliest Christian Confessions, ET 1949

[6] Panennberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 308.

[7] (See Gordon D. Fee, "Philippians 2:5-11, Hymn or Exalted Pauline Prose?" Bulletin for Biblical Research 2 [1992], 29-46.)

[8] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 68-9.

[9] Pannenberg, Systematic Theoogy Volume 2, 230.

[10] Ben Witherington III, Paul’s Letter to the Philippians: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary (Eerdmans, 2011), 143-144.

[11] Such was the argument of Origen and Cyprian.

[12] Lomas, Tim. "The magic of 'untranslatable' words." Scientific American, July 12, 2016, scientificamerican.com.

 

[13] N.T. Wright, Paul for Everyone: The Prison Letters: Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, and Philemon (SPCK, 2004), 102–103.

[14] (Albrecht Oepke, "kenow," The Theological Dictionary of the New Testament [Gerhard Kittle, ed.; 10 vols.; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1965], 3.661.)

[15] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 421.

[16] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 296.

[17] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 375-7.

[18] (Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Philippians, pp. 59–60).

[19] —Fred B. Craddock, Philippians (John Knox Press, 1985), 42.

[20] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 439.

[21] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 424.

[22] Barth, Church Dogmatics II.1 [31.2] 516-8, II.1 [30.2], 397, IV.1 [59.1] 180, IV.2 [64.2] 150-1.

[23] According to Gordon D. Fee, "Philippians 2:5-11, Hymn or Exalted Pauline Prose?" Bulletin for Biblical Research (1992),

[24] —Ben Witherington III, Paul’s Letter to the Philippians: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary (Eerdmans, 2011), 148.

[25] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 452.

[26] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 354.

[27] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 283..

[28] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 312.

[29] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 266.

[30] (Moltmann 1973, 1974) 200-207. 

[31] Spinoza, Ethics, Part V, XLII.