A Sermon for the Fifth Sunday in Lent
Pastor Laura Gentry
Phillipians 3: 4b-14
Help! Our church is in trouble! That's what was written to Saint Paul by the leaders of the new Christian church in Philippi. And in we've heard some of Paul's response in our second lesson this morning. Things had been going well at this church. Their membership has been growing steadily, both men and women are involved in leadership, and even their stewardship is going well. The church has plenty of money. But all is not well. Believe it or not, this congregation has issues. Inside the congregation, there is petty fighting, jealousy, gossip and cliques forming. Outside the congregation, Jewish neighbors are looking down on this church, believing themselves superior because they continue to follow all the Jewish laws and rituals, whereas these Gentile converts do not. So everyone is upset.
Good old Paul to the rescue! He was kind of the "Dear Abby" of the ancient Christian world. If you needed sound advice, you'd write to him. So that's why the church in Philippi has solicited his help. He writes back to them with loads of advice. He looks at their issues and narrows it down to the central problem, which in his estimation is pride. They are getting all puffed up about themselves and therefore missing the point of Christ's message.
Paul uses himself as an object lesson to help them understand why religious pride is worthless. He recites his religious resume, yes all of of his pedigree. He was born a Jew and his family followed all the rules and had him circumcised on the 8th day, just as the law prescribes. Not only that, he is an elite purebred Hebrew. Not only that, his family comes from the Tribe of Benjamin! He’s virtually religious royalty. That ought to impress. But that’s just the start. He’s got the right education and model behavior as well. He recalls how zealous he was, how righteous and blameless under the law. In fact, all these things had Paul pretty puffed up.
But as we know, Paul had a dramatic religious experience in which he encountered Jesus Christ and all of that changed. His confidence in himself, his fabulous religious resume and pedigree now became unimportant. In fact, he says that he counts it all a loss because of Christ. He regards his accomplishments as nothing more than rubbish, compared to the surpassing value of knowing Christ. It is just not important in comparison to what Christ has done for us on the cross. It is trash now. What matters is his new life, his resurrected life, in Jesus.
And this relationship turns Paul completely around. In fact, he even gets a new name (remember, his former name was Saul). This radical encounter with the living Christ turns him from persecutor of Christians into a Christian—and not just a run-of-the-mill Christian, he becomes the first and perhaps boldest Christian missionary. Now, because Christ has taken hold of him, he has all new priorities.
Bulking up your religious resume has no benefit, he tells the Christians at Phillipi. Getting puffed up and thinking you are somehow better than this person or that only leads to conflict.
Now you and I could get pretty puffed up about our religious resumes, couldn’t we? There are all kinds of things we could say. For example: (puffs up a ballon larger after each statement)
- All my ancestors were Christians
- I’ve been a Christian all my life
- I was baptized as a baby
- I was the head of my confirmation class
- I raised my children as Christians
- They were all at the too of their confirmation classes too
- I have the books of the Bible memorized
- I have perfect attendance at church
- I lead Bible study for circle (and make great cookies to go serve the ladies as well)
- I serve on the church council
- I am Christian through and through
- Even my pets are Christian
- And most of all: I am a good person
Ah yes, you can think quite highly of yourselves with your puffed-up-ness. That's for sure. But you know what Paul would say about all those "brownie points" you thought you earned, that you’ve been getting puffed up about? It’s rubbish. (Let’s balloon go so it flies around the church)
These things are not what’s important. These things will never win our salvation. But if we can’t cling to our puffed-up-ness, what can we cling to? (Picks up a small cross) The cross. As the old hymn says, “I will cling to the old rugged cross and exchange it someday for a crown.”
What is most important is knowing Christ. Paul puts it in this way: “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings.”
During Holy Week, which begins next Sunday we will be focusing on Jesus’ passion and death, and that is a necessary part of our journey to Easter. But even in the heart of Lent, we must not lose sight of the fact that we are Easter people. It has been said, truly, that you can’t have Easter without Good Friday. But Good Friday wouldn’t be “good” if it weren’t for Easter. If Jesus had simply suffered and died, and that was the end of the story, why would we want to share in his suffering? In fact, if we were putting our trust in a Christ who was not raised from the dead, we would be, as Paul tells us in another passage, “of all people most to be pitied.”
But just what does Paul mean to “share in his sufferings?” What does this mean for us? Suffering is not something we like to sign up for. Perhaps this Lent we have been practicing some kind of “fasting”: in the kinds or quantities of food we eat, or in our enjoyment of some other pleasures. Or perhaps we have chosen instead to take on some spiritual discipline for this holy season—like more time for prayer. This is a very small way to share in Christ’s suffering, to become like him in his death. Perhaps we need simply to “die” a little more to ourselves—to focus on others and not just on our own concerns and the concerns of those near and dear to us. Jesus said that whatever we do to the least of his brothers and sisters we do to, or for, him. How might we enter into the suffering of those brothers and sisters—the sick, the poor, the homeless or hungry, those who are alone, who are oppressed? It’s not too late to make that a part of our Lenten practice. In fact, we can and should do it anytime, no matter what the season.
Our reading concludes with one more passionate remark from Paul. He writes: “This one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.”
I press on! What lies behind is unimportant. We can’t impress God with our fabulous religious resumes. They are trash. What we need is Christ’s resume. We need the one who paid the price for our sins to earn God’s favor for us. We have a friend in Jesus who has redeemed us, and who is calling us, who is calling us to enter into his suffering, death and resurrection. That is the ultimate prize! And it is ours for the taking. So we must press on!
Eugene Peterson has written a paraphrased bible, called The Message. In it, he paraphrases this verse by saying: “I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I’m off and running, and I’m not turning back.”
No my friends, we’re not turning back. We know Christ and in our heart of hearts we want to know him more. We want to love him. We want to be entirely his own. We want to cling to the cross, not our own merit. We've got to redo our religious resumes and take off everything but the cross of Christ. That alone will get us to the prize of the heavenly call of God. Let us press on to follow this call wherever it lead us!
Now may the peace of God which passes all understanding keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
