Transforming power (Ph. 3:17—4:1)
During the season of Lent, we focus on prayer, repentance and reorienting our lives towards Jesus, who heals and saves us. In the New Testament reading today, Paul is encouraging the Christians in Philippi to think about the people they look to as examples, to help them identify the characteristics of people who aim to cause destruction (whether that is intentional or unintentional), and he points to Christ as the one who is transforming them and bringing all things under his authority.
Given these points that Paul writes about, we have three questions to think about today:
Who are your role models?
What do you want to get out of life?
How open are you to being changed?
Who are your role models?
This reading actually opens with Paul identifying himself as a good example to follow. “Brothers, join in imitating me...” If he tried saying this to us, I don’t think we’d give him much respect at all. It’s generally frowned upon and seen as arrogant to call yourself an example for people to follow.
“Tall Poppy Syndrome” is very much alive in our culture today. The minute we try to speak well of ourselves, we are quickly cut down one way or another. In the ancient Greek world, though, this wasn’t necessarily the case. Of course, there was still arrogance and “big-noting,” but if self- admonishment was seen to be warranted or deserved, it was respected.
But Paul isn’t ultimately pointing to himself, anyway. In chapter 2, he writes about the mind of Christ, which is also ours since we’re made in God’s image. Very helpful context. Paul is asking the Philippians to imitate him, as he imitates Christ. Maybe Paul isn’t so arrogant and self- absorbed after all.
Who do you imitate? Who are the examples you live by? Who are your role models? We all have them. When teenagers are at high school, they very quickly pick up the language, fashion, and manner of their fellow students. Often, there is a small group of “cool kids” who determine those things. They become role models without necessarily meaning to.
Married couples also often find themselves becoming more like each other as the years go by. I’ve been told that I’m very much alike my vicarage supervisor, who I would certainly call a role model for myself. It might be hard to think of who yours are off the top of your head, but we all have people in our lives who have influenced us in one way or another.
What qualifies someone to be a good role model? A good standing, a level of respect... What characteristics should they show? Honesty, integrity, confidence... What do we find ourselves looking for in people? Charisma, humour, boldness... These are very subjective questions of course, but good ones to ponder. We generally agree on the positive traits, but sometimes we are subconsciously attracted to less positive ones as well, which leads us to our next question.
What do you want to get out of life?
Today, it’s very much encouraged to choose your own path and create your own life on the basis of your desires and what you perceive to be a good life. This kind of thinking can very easily fall into what Paul calls “having your god as your belly.”
In other words, your god (the ultimate authority in your life, the thing you depend on for meaning and purpose, the thing you look to when you’re desperate) is whatever your deepest desires and cravings are. This can be a whole range of things—whatever your interpretation of a successful life is, love and respect from other people, a good reputation and bank balance to match etc.
Paul is talking about the problem of idolatry, which goes directly against God’s intended order in creation because it breaks the First Commandment: “You shall have no other gods.” This means “we are to fear, love, and trust God above all things.”
What makes this really difficult for us is when others approve of and even encourage this. It is shameful to act against God’s creation, but we find our glory in shame, as Paul puts it.
Every ad you see on TV is aimed at giving ourselves a better life, more convenience or the latest and greatest, in one way or another. All that’s required of you is your money, or, especially at the moment, your votes. Advertising feeds our idolatrous hearts that want what’s best for ourselves. And it works.
Living with this kind of orientation leads to one thing: destruction. Orienting your life towards yourself destroys your faith in God because you don’t have any need for it, your relationships because you no longer need them either, and yourself because it’ll eventually cave in on itself.
Paul says that having our god as our belly and finding glory in shame are characteristics of those who “walk as enemies of the cross of Christ.” You don’t have to be in opposition to the Christian faith and bag the church to be an enemy of the cross. You just need to turn to something other than the cross for your life’s direction.
So how do we keep the cross at the centre of our lives? How do we avoid becoming enemies of the cross? Where should we look for our example? These aren’t questions we can answer on our own. We need to be transformed.
How open are you to being changed?
We often joke about our reluctance to change in the church. How many Lutherans does it take to change a light bulb... What kind of change do we find so difficult? What is it about change that makes it so hard? Since I’ve been here, a number of people have made the point of saying to me, “We’re open to change here.” That’s great to hear, but what do you really mean by that?
The idolatrous lifestyle that Paul speaks about has its own gravitational pull, and a very strong one. Whenever we switch off, we fall into that way of living. It can show itself in the most unexpected ways, and in places which are confronting to admit to ourselves. This is our human nature at work.
Doing something the same way for a long time can be a great thing and has great strength—we tend to call that “tradition.” These are things that help us remember our heritage. They remind us of our identity. They give us a sense of belonging. This can be anything from the meat you have for Christmas lunch, to your morning routine, to having your seat at church. We like things to be predictable, routine, and comfortable. These are all great things.
I know you’re waiting for the “but.” I’m not going there—let’s simply ask ourselves: What if one of these things was taken away? What if I was forced to change something like that? How would that make me feel? Why would I feel that way?
What if Jesus wanted to change you? What if he was already transforming us? What if, by our baptism, this transformation had already begun? What if we were transformed every day of our baptismal lives, dying to sin and rising to Christ?
That’s the kind of change I can get on board with. It’s just as painful as changing the oldest, most important traditions in your life—probably even more so. It means that we need to acknowledge that we need to be transformed in the first place. It means we need to allow the master surgeon to cut deep into us and get our rotten, idolatrous hearts out, before he then transplants his new one.
This means admitting that we need help, and it means admitting that we need to submit to Christ. We don’t like that word at all—submit, submission, subordinate. It’s not equal, and therefore isn’t fair. This isn’t about equal or fair—it’s about God’s created order. And what is that order? The First Commandment: God is above all things.
Submitting to Christ isn’t about our decision to do so. He has the power to make everything subject to him. The Greek word here for power—where we get our word ‘energy’ from—isn’t just about potential power. It’s a performative power, an active power. He is already doing this. He’s done by taking on a humble, human body, and he’ll complete it when he makes our bodies like his in glory and restores all things to their right place under God.
Where’s our right place? Should we be worried? No—our citizenship is in heaven. We belong in Christ. We belong with Christ. We belong under Christ.
“Therefore, my brothers, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm thus in the Lord, my beloved.” Such affectionate words from Paul. Stand firm in the Lord, my beloved.
