Loss and Gain

Philippians 3:4b-14 (Part Three: esp. v 7)

Whatever gains I have made in the world, because of Jesus I consider them rather a loss--not only rubbish and worthless, but actually counting against me, listed in the 'minus' column of my spiritual balance-sheet.

Why should worldly success be counted so adversely to a transformative relationship with Christ? Can't we have a relationship with Christ and be successful in the world? For Paul, it seems, the answer is no. I wonder if he was reading the Gospel of Luke at the time.

Paul seems right in line with Luke on this point. One of the overriding themes of Luke is the danger of material (worldly) success: wealth, power, prestige, praise, and so on. More than the other Gospels, Luke castigates wealth and the stranglehold material possessions have on people's hearts--and he's right, of course, our wealth does hold us back from being the kind of disciples Jesus calls us to be. (We are all that rich ruler who asks in all sincerity what we must do to gain eternal life, but then shirk from Jesus' frank reply: give up all your wealth and comforts and follow me.) Paul, too, picks up on this radical demand of Jesus, and seeing how difficult it is to do, Paul counts all those things holding him back to a worldly sense of accomplishment and merit, success and comfort, power and praise... Paul holds all of them as a loss, as something that holds him back, something that holds him down or slows his reaction to the gospel, that prevents a true discipleship.

Here, Paul is wrestling with the same realization--that this is really tough, and most people won't be able to do it very well--the same realization that Matthew faced in his Gospel when the rich ruler confronted Jesus. Matthew's answer was that one could be a disciple to the degree to which one gave up attachment to possessions. If one would be perfect, he wrote, one would give up all possessions and follow Jesus... opening the door to all of our (eager? inevitable? satisfactory?) 'mediocre' discipleship: we'll give up a little and count that as discipleship, or we'll know that our attachment to possessions is bad and we'll consider that awareness as our discipleship. Matthew opens this door to a softer, more permissive, less demanding discipleship. And Paul wrestles with his own convictions on the one hand, and the likely response of seekers to such a demanding discipleship on the other. Even so, Paul for himself comes down clearly in step with Luke on this issue: confidence in the flesh (or worldly goods) is only a stumbling block to discipleship.

This is a big statement for the Philippians--signaled by the occupation of ten verses on this specific point.

And for me... it is a reminder. I easily jump to the condemnation of wealth and power (even though I enjoy both as a middle-class American in a world dominated by American interests and supporting an high American standard of living). (For all my love of Luke's harshness and clarity of vision, in the end I sneak into discipleship through the back door opened up by Matthew.) Condemnation of wealth and power comes easily to me--I have taken that part of the prophetic message to heart and it is in my blood everywhere just under the surface. What is harder for me is the 'being thought well of' and especially the surety of convictions that I hardly question that are to me stumbling blocks to my transformation. To have such single-minded confidence in ideas or theories is one way the world holds on to my heart. It gives me some impression (however false or inadequate) that I am in control, or that I have some profound understanding of the mechanisms at work. And this is a false impression (as Job so painfully shows us). I am not loosed from the struggle or senselessness of the world, even in my accepting struggle and senselessness as a reality or means of creating meaning and purpose. I have to accept the contingency of my confidence/belief in contingency. What is ultimate for me must not be these convictions about the world--the way it works, the evil of capitalism, the inevitability of war, the horror of alliance with Bush, and so on. What must be ultimate for me is the dedication to the possibility of transformation, new life, new understanding--and the shifts I cannot predict may be subtle or radical, but I have committed myself to them, not knowing what they are.

Discipleship is like baptism or marriage, we dedicate ourselves to something (and someone) not knowing what will happen, the changes we will be called upon to make, the demands we must answer, the roads we will have to go down. But we commit ourselves nonetheless. And that, like any two paths diverging in the woods, makes all the difference.

And our time spent deliberating about which path to go down--one leading to wealth and comfort, the other to suffering and Christ--is counted as loss.

Committing to Tentativeness

Philippians 3:4b-14 (Part Two: esp. vv 13-14)

Not that I have become perfect, or have a complete understanding of the gospel yet, still I continue to wrestle with the revelation of God in Jesus, I struggle to make Jesus' revelation my own revelation, Jesus' story my own story--because Jesus made me his own. I'm certainly not finished yet, I haven't nearly made it my own. But regardless, this one thing I have committed to: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead--I am prepared to abandon the treasures and beliefs of my past if the upward call of God requires it. This forward straining, this search for the prize, this movement toward the goal is the most important thing--more important than tradition or previous understanding. It is this common yearning to grow, to be remade, to learn anew that is our faith, it is God as revealed in Jesus--an perennial call to unceasing creative transformation.

It is too bad that verses fifteen and sixteen aren't included in the lectionary selection, because they sum up nicely Paul's thinking here: there is room for diversity of opinion, room to disagree within the body of Christ, we are all growing and at different places inside ourselves. Just remember to focus on what we share, what we have attained as a community, the conclusions we have reached (keeping in mind that even these we might be called upon to abandon in the future--ever straining forward to what lies ahead).

I strain to hear the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Among my faith claims that one should stand alone, above all other claims I make: above all, I am committed to listening for and straining to follow the upward call of God, willing to abandon all other beliefs, preconceptions, confessions, understandings and priorities... even those I once held as revelation of God. I hold up the best that I know, knowing all the while that I may be called to abandon even that should I learn something better.

I think, generally, Christianity has a hard time with this. We revere tradition as something more than just the revelation of the past, more than just custom and culture and practice. Tradition and even scripture become holy in themselves, definitive revelations of God, not only constituting revelation but limiting and restricting it (even while scriptures like this point to the reality of needing to look beyond scripture or tradition to the Spirit).

There is good reason to acknowledge the tension here between the truth of past revelation and the truth of the uncertain future. (The devil you know is better than the devil you don't?) ;-) But there is also preserved here the value of diversity--we won't all agree, won't all see the same things the same ways, but there is much we have all been transformed by that we share, and we can build on that.

This is important for me to remember when approaching nationalist Christians--part of me would like to deal harshly with them, but I have to step back and admit that the Spirit is working with them as best it can under the circumstances, and that the Spirit is working with me, too, and that I may be called upon to change in the future. (I can't take myself too seriously, then.) We all have to accept each other for what we are--people who have committed to struggling to understand the gospel, forward-straining people, and that because of where we are or where we're leaning we won't be the same kind of people. None of us is perfect, and so none of us can claim absolute knowledge or authority, not you or me or the pastor or even Paul or any other Biblical author, let alone the Bible itself. We are all pressing on to make it our own, because we are convicted that Jesus made us his own. And what that means we may think we understand now, but tomorrow be shown we don't have a clue.

"The Chosen"

Philippians 3:4b-14
(Part One: esp. vv 4b-7)

We all have this in our traditions - some of us embrace it now, but even if we don't it is still there, lurking. We believe we are chosen because of some fact about us. We are "American," and America is Chosen. We are in the one true church, so we are Chosen. We are white, and white people Rule. We are men, and men are the heads of families and states. We are wealthy, therefore we must deserve comfort and security. We are Christian, and Christians are God's people... so no matter what, we are God's people.

But here, Paul lays that all to rest. It doesn't matter. None of it matters. If anyone ought to be consoled by the facts of his existence in this world, it should be Paul: a sanctified Jew of the chosen tribe, a zealous follower of the law, righteous, and even in the Roman Empire Paul was a citizen and could call on that defense as well. I'm sure he could have added things like a three-car garage and two and-a-half baths, a solid portfolio and 401k, a walk-in closet filled with Armani suits and patent-leather shoes, an advanced degree from an Ivy League school, and a secure job working for the prosecutor's office--or the first-century Palestinian equivalents. Paul has it made, if you go by the world's standards! He has every reason to stick to the normal way of looking at things. Except one.

And that one reason opens up a world of difference, such that everything he thought was in his favor comes to nothing (and, if anything, actually counts against him).

God, as revealed through Jesus, brings Paul to a different understanding, and all of a sudden all of those values and prizes and marks of success according to the world are foolishness and vainglory, worthless and distracting. And in the place of those prizes is picked up values that seem absurd to the world: suffering, and a faith whose merit cannot be demonstrated or delineated by a code of conduct.

(I wonder what this implies about the issue of homosexuality in the church--whether this is an issue that the world concerns itself with for reasons of power and prestige, and whether or not a new life in Christ would lift our eyes above those kinds of distinctions [distinctions between people worthy of certain kinds of love and those unworthy, between love that deserves dignity and love that does not]. Could Paul have added to his list of worldly accolades above the title "heterosexual?")

Whatever the qualifications you come up with--even ecclesiastical ones like piety and faithfulness and years in mission work, etc.--Paul has more than anyone. This isn't boasting (although it's close), it is Paul saying how much he stands to gain by not making the choice he has: to find a new world-view in Jesus. Paul is trying to highlight the extent of his sacrifice (though it is only a sacrifice in the worldly perspective--once one adopts a Godly world-view, one's priorities change and all those worldly prizes are like "rubbish"). He is trying to frame his decision to follow Jesus as not a strategic one, not one to gain prestige or influence, not one to gain a public image of purity or "chosen-ness." Paul had all those things at his finger-tips in the world before Jesus. He is making the case for his sincerity, as well as building the distinction between worldly values and the nearly-inverse values of a world in Jesus.

No longer can we appeal to the law as a guide to righteousness, or birth as a guide to God's favor. These are things "of the flesh," "of this world." (The word "flesh" here [Gk: "sarx"] can mean the body [as opposed to the spirit], or as a symbol of what is external, or as the means of kindred, as well as implying human nature and its frailties. The connection with kindred and birth and "tribe" and provinciality is compelling.)

We must look to the life, love and revelation of Jesus--an act that inverts many of our previously-held assumptions about favor in God's sight, an act that breathes afresh the prophetic voice. As disciples of Christ, we must be prepared for this inversion, for this radical change in values, to give up worldly means of evaluating or assessing people. There are no more purity laws. There is only the transforming love of God as expressed in Jesus.

Citizens of Heaven: Living the Way of the Cross of Christ

Philippians 3:17-4:1

I am distracted this morning by an article I read yesterday evening in Christianity Today. The article was about an "arch-conservative" Christian radio host that claimed that living out Christianity makes one conservative. Of course, I couldn't disagree more (and I question the wisdom of subscribing to this magazine). And along comes this morning's scripture to rouse these feelings all over again - or perhaps to flush them out, to daylight them.

"Brothers and Sisters, become co-imitators with me of Christ," Paul says. "For many live as enemies of the cross of Christ."

There is little agreement among scholars who Paul is referring to here, living as enemies of the cross. But it seems reasonable to me to assume that these are individuals within their faith community - other Christians... otherwise, what would be the point of saying they live outside of and in opposition to the example of Christ, they don't know or care about the way of Jesus. The critique only has teeth if it describes individuals who ought to know better.

Paul describes them a little: their end is destruction, their god is the belly, their glory is in their shame, their minds are set on earthly things.

Their end is destruction - this might not be an eschatalogical claim, that is, it might not be describing their fate or future consequence. It might be describing their goal, their intention, their modus operandi. Enemies of the way of the cross seek destruction in the world, not creation. They seek to destroy - with bombs, with words, with laws, with torture chambers, with executions.... A contrast to the way of the cross of Christ is destruction. Those who seek it are living as enemies of the cross of Christ.

This is one place where we see the clear significance of the cross - an instrument of brutal oppression, fear, torture, execution, condemnation, revenge... destruction. Through Jesus, this symbol of everything Jesus stood against becomes redeemed, and represents Jesus' resistance and victory over the forces of destruction. The way "of the cross" in Jesus reverses expectations, inverts worldviews, goes against the "normal" way of the world. There is the cross of the Empire - brutal, vengeful, destructive; and there is the cross of Christ - forgiving, loving, suffering, creative.

Their god is the belly - their ultimate concern is their own satisfaction, their own sustenance, their own appetite. Paul is contrasting this with Jesus in the wilderness, when tempted by bread Jesus responds that humanity cannot live by bread alone. Living as an enemy of the cross of Christ is living for bread alone - with no thought to the greater issues at stake. Shopping at Wal-Mart with no thought to the working conditions of those employed by that company; "supporting the troops" with no thought to the vast mechanism of militarism, consumption, exploitation, waste, violence and misallocation of resources necessary for American militarism; and so on. Thinking primarily of oneself, of one's own satisfaction or comfort (even, perhaps especially, under the guise of "helping" someone else) is living as an enemy of the cross - living life as an enemy to the idea of self-sacrifice for others, of equitable distribution of wealth and resources, of equal stake in life and prosperity of all people, especially the lowly, weak, disenfranchised, poor and the enemy.

Their glory is in their shame - when we parade our vices and weaknesses as if they were our virtues and strengths. We cannot embrace Jesus' vision of creative nonviolent resistance, and so we parade tanks and boots in front of adoring crowds and fanfare. We cannot embrace Jesus' vision of the abolition of poverty, and so we parade the super-rich along red carpets in front of crowds and flashbulbs, and even in grocery check-out lines. We cannot embrace Jesus' vision of homeless itinerant preaching, and so we build bigger and more expansive houses for smaller families and fewer people. The World and the Cross are inversions of each other. What is glorious in one is shameful in the other. What is essential in one is impossible in the other. What we called upon to do and be in one is forbidden and disgraced in the other. This is the stark dichotomy presented to us in Paul's distinction here.

Their minds are set on earthly things - surely Paul is not condemning "earthly" things like food, shelter and remunerative work for the poor, hungry and homeless; things like liberation to the captive, freedom to the oppressed. Paul here is speaking of the values of the World: wealth, prestige, influence, power, strength, comfort at the expense of others, and so on. When people's minds are set on earthly things, they are subjects of earthly powers, adherents to Worldly ideas, victims and citizens of earthly principalities. This, Paul contrasts with discipleship.

The true Christian citizenship (alternatively translated "commonwealth") is in heaven, and it is there we look for salvation. The word Paul uses is "Savior" (in Greek, Soter), which is a word also used to describe the Roman emperor and Roman gods. Paul is making a clear distinction here - you owe your allegiance to God through the person of Jesus, or you owe your allegiance to the state. You can't have it both ways. One or the other. One allegiance is inimical to the cross of Christ, the other is subject to it. The rule of Jesus in oneself is a political as well as spiritual condition. Disciples of Jesus do not look to the President for hope or truth or security - because the President can only offer the ways of the World (violence, greed, destruction). Disciples of Jesus look to the example of Jesus for hope, truth and security.

But the example of Jesus is one of abject humiliation, poverty, death, and even failure. Jesus was executed as a convicted criminal, his life and movement and ministry snuffed out after only a couple years. This is the cross of Christ! To stand up to the Powers of this world and risk being cut down for it. Who would choose that?!

No wonder conservatives see the only way to solve problems in the world as to out-brutalize the enemy, to kill more of them than they kill of us, to see "freedom" as the power to exploit as many people as possible with as little inconvenience to oneself as possible. But that is not the way of the cross of Christ. That is the way of the cross of the Empire. And it is to live as an enemy to the cross of Jesus.

We are convicted, however, that Jesus was not snuffed out that day. We are certain that his life and ministry and movement continued. We agree that he was killed - tortured and executed as an example to those who would follow him. But we further hold that he didn't stop there. The reign of God was not defeated. We were shown the way to victory over earthly powers. Creative, nonviolent, intent, persistent resistance, and the willingness to sacrifice oneself (rather than someone else).

I think we often misunderstand what happened at the cross. Jesus didn't end sacrifice by dying on the cross. He ended the practice of sacrificing others. He brought a new law - a vision of a new world (grounded in the prophetic tradition of the old), and a new sacrifice (grounded in the tradition of sacrifice, but transformed in the way Jesus transforms so much). We worry about our humiliation and troubles, but Paul reminds us of our conviction that our humiliation will be transformed to glory. Our way of thinking about ourselves and our actions (enmeshed as we are in the ideas and priorities and understandings of this World) will be transformed (to conform with the ideas and priorities and understandings of God as revealed in the example of Jesus). By declaring ourselves loyal to the example and rule of Jesus, we are already being remade and transformed - we are becoming citizens of that Greater Kingdom. If we would but stand firm.

I have never been so moved by Paul's writing.