Sunday, October 1, 2017
God at Work in You
Scripture Lessons: Ezekiel 18: 1-4 and 25-32, and Philippians 2: 1-13
Sermon Title: God at Work in You
Preached on October 1, 2017
One of the great Christian thinkers of history is a Danish philosopher named Soren Kierkegaard. He famously compared the sanctuary and the theater, saying that these two places look the same – both are big rooms with seats in lines turned toward something like a stage, but the difference is this – in the theater the actors are on the stage and you are in the audience, but in here, we are all the actors and it is God who is in the audience.
This description makes sense to me, and I am confident that God, in the audience, loves to hear our choir sing.
That our God rejoices as Cal plays the organ. That God listens as we pray, and smiles as children fidget in the pews.
During this hour of worship, we don’t come to be entertained as we do in a theater, but to direct our attention away from ourselves and towards our Redeemer, for in this hour we are mindful that God draws near, is in the audience watching and listening as we worship God together.
We gather here to offer our praises to God, that’s what worship is, and so we try to offer our very best. We don’t dress to veg-out on the couch. On Sunday mornings at a church like ours, we dress to bow our heads before our creator. So, mothers force daughters into dresses, slick down the rebellious hair of 9-year-old boys, and even if they were in the middle of an epic argument for the whole ride over here, families pull it together so they’d look like a Norman Rockwell painting before they walked in here.
What we do is aspire to some version of perfection.
We rise above the stress and conflict to put on a pretty face.
Even when we know we’re not perfect, don’t some of us walk into this room pretending to be?
But, in many ways, this is a bad habit.
We humans are in the bad habit of masking despair and conflict, telling everyone around us that everything fine when it’s not, living a Spiritual life of false piety, as though Christianity were one long Stairway to Heaven that we have to climb just like the corporate ladder. But it is in this room that we remember how our God comes near to hear us sing.
We read in our first Scripture Lesson of the God who came near, taking human form:
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.
These are words of the great Christ Hymn that the church in Philippi sang to remember that while we who worship comb our hair, put on our Sunday best, and try to rise to a standard of perfection, God does not call on use to rise up to him for he has come down to us.
That matters, because that changes how we think. That changes how we live.
Knowing that God descended to us changes how we lead.
That’s really what Paul is writing about here. He writes this letter to address a crisis in leadership. Two leaders in this congregation – Euodia and Syntyche are working against each other, jockeying for control. You’ve seen this kind of thing before, because conflict is as natural to we humans as sleeping and breathing. Even if we can pull it together to walk into the sanctuary, we are prone to conflict.
A mother used to say that if her children were awake, they were fighting. That’s just us, but, if we are Christians, how will we fight? How will we argue?
When God looked down on us and our depravity God didn’t look down in disappointment from the security of heaven, fire off a few tweets and go back to life as usual. No, God came down from heaven to see first-hand what was really going on.
That’s what parents do – we hear siblings arguing down in the basement – “don’t make me come down there!” we say. So, I’ve been interested in professional football lately, because while protesting during the National Anthem, failing to stand to honor the flag, is a complicated and emotional issue, there are those team owners who have remained up in the owner’s box, far above the field, and there have been others, who descended to the field to lock arms with their players. This is a radical thing to do.
But that’s what Paul urges: “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.”
When God heard the shouting of his children, God could have just brushed some clouds away, looked down, “eh, they’ll sort it out eventually.”
Or maybe the Son could have said to the Holy Spirit: “What do you think about sending another flood? Wait, we said we wouldn’t do that, didn’t we?”
No – when God heard our distress, God came down to us, “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.”
What then is this bread and this cup? The reminder that God could have stayed up there. Christ could have kept his distance from all our quarreling – but instead, he came right down and offered us his very body and blood.
In his life then, is the reminder that love thrives on proximity. That like a mother who holds her baby to her chest, God holds us close. With that example in mind, Paul’s admonishes us: “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,” remembering that when it comes to love, physical distance can be bad.
I once officiated a funeral of a woman whose family rarely visited.
She planned her funeral with me years before she died, and chose two Proverbs for the occasion. One was Proverbs 18: 24 – “Some friends play at friendship, but a true friend sticks closer than one’s nearest kin.”
After the service, a friend told me “that was an interesting way for her to tell her relatives that they’d be left out of the will”, but in this Proverb, is a truth that we all know already – we long for closeness and we pity the nursing home resident who no one goes to visit.
Setting the example, what does God do? God shows up, bridges the gap, takes human form. “And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross.”
This word, “Humble” is significant. Because just as physical distance can harm relationships, so can arrogance. Failing to be honest with yourself and others can as well. And acting like you’re more holy than everybody is just about the worst.
There’s a story about John Calvin. His friends said that he was probably the most brilliant man of his generation, but what made it so hard to spend time with him, was that he knew it.
In this story about the theologian who founded our tradition is a warning to every Christian so good at pretending that he’s perfect and so are his children, for if Jesus humbled himself, taking the form of a slave, then what sermon is our life preaching?
The Prophet spoke to the people on the Lord’s behalf saying, “the house of Israel says, “The way of the Lord is unfair.” [But] house of Israel, are my ways unfair? Is it not your ways that are unfair?”
God comes close, but we keep our distance.
God moves into the neighborhood, dwelling among us in Jesus Christ, but we keep our doors locked to our neighbor.
And God humbles himself, taking the form of a slave, but how many of us take the time to learn the names of the people who clean our homes?
This is what happens with distance and arrogance – we lose touch with our neighbors, because we’ve lost touch with ourselves.
To live the Gospel, we have to be real.
We have to be honest.
We have to be human – crying in weakness, listening until we understand, while standing together.
And we have to sing, not because we’re good at it, but because God likes it.
Ours is a God who has come near – setting the table before us, as though He were the servant, to offer us his very body and blood.
And this God is at work in you. Just as Paul said it of the congregation in Philippi, so it is true here of you.
You – who don’t all think the same, who don’t all live the same lives, but who worship together.
You who break bread together, and join in mission together – delivering meals to neighborhoods that few like to drive through.
You, who have already given up on the illusion of perfection, to accept each other as you really are.
The God who comes near to us, is at work in you.
Amen.
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