If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love, any sharing in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy, make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross. Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.
Philippians 2:1-13
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; for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure.
My sermon from the 17th Sunday after Pentecost (September 27, 2020) on Philippians 2:1-13.
One of the things that we, as followers of Jesus Christ, should be thankful for is – conflict. And I know that’s a weird thing to say especially during worship. As we gather together as Christ’s body in the world, what we’re doing right now isn’t supposed to be filled with conflict. Instead, we’re yearning to experience peace, love, and hope in the place where Jesus promises to be. That doesn’t mean we won’t find Jesus’ words convicting as they reveal the truth about ourselves and about our world. But we also want this moment to be a refuge from all the other conflicts around us. Our time together – either online, over the phone, or in-person, is – in some ways – an opportunity for us to step away from the world and spend a few moments sitting in the love of Jesus. But the oddball thing about conflict is that it sort of lingers with us – wherever we go. It sort of lives rent free in our heads – and even when we’re spending time with God, it can pop up and we’re suddenly spending worship reliving the entire experience. Conflict happens because people happen. And when we have relationships with other people, we’re not always going to see everything eye-to-eye. We might do our best to avoid conflict but without it – without people struggling over what it means to do this following Jesus thing together – our Bible would be a lot thinner. And one of the things we wouldn’t have in a conflict free world is today’s letter from Paul that he sent to the Christian community in the city of Philippi.
Now Philippi was an old city, founded by the father of Alexander the Great in what is now Northern Greece. In Paul’s day, the city was very Roman – populated by the descendants of Roman soldiers who were settled there after an earlier war. The city was an important hub for the flow of soldiers, goods, and resources from one of the empire to the other. And that constant flow of things into and out of the city made Philippi into a place that was constantly changing and probably used to conflict. Every new idea, belief, technology, or point of view that entered the city probably led to arguments, distrust, disagreements, and struggle. If you lived in that city, you might have woken up every day wondering what new thing was going to show up and annoy you. But that movement of stuff, of unknown people and ideas and things – of all that otherness – into the city also created an opportunity for new things to be built. And so Paul went to the city and built a Christian community that grew even after he left. As was Paul’s custom, he and that community probably wrote to each other often. During an exchange of letters and information, Paul found out that a conflict was brewing in the church. Now, we don’t know what that conflict was all about but it did center around two women – who were obviously leaders in that community. They were , for some reason, in disagreement and my hunch is that it was about what it meant to follow Jesus. I imagine that the conflict was serious enough that members of that community began to choose sides and someone might have asked Paul which side was right. Now, Paul usually had no problem picking a side in any conflict. But what was unusual in this letter isn’t he chose not to. Instead of focusing on the substance of their disagreement, Paul spent time wondering what it’s like for followers of Jesus to live faithfully together while experiencing conflict. He knew quite well that we are called to be in unity with one another. But he also believed – as we read today – that unity doesn’t mean we’re all supposed to be the same.
If we had to name a united community, an easy example might be the fandom of any sports team. Most fans root for their team every day, wear their colors on game day, know when they win and lose, and are experts at coaching their teams even while sitting hundreds of miles away in their living rooms. In the pre-pandemic era, fans sat in stadiums wearing team jerseys that swallowed up their individuality while giving them the identity of the group. Together, that united community is filled with the experience of watching their teams win, and lose – and lose some more. And when it comes to fandom, that image of uniformity is a good symbol of what it means to be united together. But when we take that vision of a united community and push it into all the other places where communities are formed – that’s when trouble begins. We start to assume that being united looks like everyone wearing the same kind of team jersey. That jersey is never well fitting because it’s not designed to highlight what makes us different. Instead, it sort of covers us up – and ends up limiting who we’re allowed to be. The value and experiences of that community begin to look a little self-centered and there ends up being a push for everything to sort of be the same. When something different finally shows up, we get really possessive over what we think our community is all about. We create and perpetuate conflict while blaming others unless they become exactly who we want them to be. And in that process, we make unity into uniformity – and we become the default of what we want everyone else to become.
And that’s why, I think, Paul chose to push back on our idea of unity. If we only read chapter 2, verses 1 and 2, our making of unity into uniformity might be what the Christian community is all about. But, the truth is, that Paul kept writing – and there’s also verses 3, 4, and ancient Christian hymn starting at verse 6. Being of the same mind, sharing in the same love and spirit, and being in full accord – cannot be limited to uniformity because Paul used the others verses to immediately look for what’s different. He asked the followers of Jesus to do a ridiculously hard thing – one that’s even harder when done during a conflict. We’re asked to regard the other as better than ourselves and to not look to our own interests, but instead to the interests of others. So imagine trying to do that right now. Think about every conflict you’re currently living through and all the people you are in conflict with. What would it take for you to follow Paul’s comments? How could you see them as better than yourself and to look out for their own interests too? And once you chew on that for a while, let’s add even more to the mix. Think about all the people you avoid, put down, insult, and refuse to listen to. What would it take to assume the best about them – and to raise up their interests in everything that you do?
I’ll admit that’s really hard because it requires us to realize that in the words of Ekaputra Tupamahu, Christians are supposed to live in a way that “mak[es].. space for others.” It’s often easier to focus only on our own teams because making space for others opens us to the possibility that we’ll change. When otherness moves into our neighborhood and into our lives, we discover different ways of looking at the world and learn stories that might be more honest than the one we tell ourselves. We learn about how we, whether purposefully or not, have harmed the people around us. And we feel compelled to accept that we might have been wrong – and that we’re not as amazing as we imagined ourselves to be. When we make space for others, we turn away from keeping ourselves at the center of the universe – and we begin the process of repentance – of turning towards God so that we can be exactly who God made us to be. Being open to change is one of the hardest things we are asked to do. But we get to do that work because Jesus has already built that foundation in our lives. In our baptism and in our faith, Jesus has already opened us to be more like him – to empty ourselves of our fears, ignorance, and our need to always be right – and instead to lean into who we already are – beloved children of God who are part of the world God made. You are already connected to a community full of others and they don’t look like you, speak like you, or even root for the same sports teams as you. Yet we are connected because we are rooted in a God who chose to connect us. And so – we are left with a choice: Do we choose to pick sides where we are our communities of uniformity seek only their own interests or do we stay connected, seeing how we all are worth everything to God and that we can raise each other up as we figure out how to faithfully follow our Savior and Lord – together?
Amen.