E-mail: lowell“at”revlowell.com

   Palm Sunday, Year A

Texts:

Isaiah 50:4-7

Philippians 2:5-11

Matthew 21:1-11

  Theme:      Within a community of persons who care about one another,  individualism

loses its cancerous power.

  Subject:      responsible individualism

Title:

Glimpsing the Face of Christ

“Let  this  mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus: Who, being in  the  form of God,  thought  it not  robbery to be equal with God. . .  And being found  in fashion  as  a man, he  humbled  himself. . . .”  (Philippians 2:5-8 KJV).  More  had  been written  about these few verses in Paul’s letter to the Philippians than about any other part of the  Bible with the  exception of the Sermon on the Mount.  For these words from an  early Chris-tian  hymn  express the central mystery of the Christian faith, the surrender  of  Jesus to our state and fate and his exaltation as our Lord.

If  you  want to  know what the early Christians believed,  you  will have  to  wrestle with  these words.  But don’t expect to find a simple formula that exhausts all  efforts  to explain  the relationship of Jesus and God.  After having studied these verses  for many years,  I am still not sure I know what they mean.  But I know why Paul used them.   He was concerned about the divisive individualism that threatened the unity of the church. 

Each Philippian  felt entitled to his or her own opinion.  They formed little  cliques  and factions based  on  these differences.   The  principal players  were  two  strong-willed women,  Euodia   and  Syntyche.  They  and  their respective  followers   were  at   one another’s throats  when  Paul founded the church at Philippi. Nine  or  ten years  later when  he wrote  to  them, they were still at it.  And sad to relate,  the  Philippians were bickering a generation later, when the Church Father Polycarp visited them.  Like  many of our churches today, the church at Philippi had a personality, a  distinc-tion  character that  persisted long after its original members  had  passed away.   They never  seemed to  get  the  message  that unrestrained  individualism  is deadlier   than cyanide.

None  of  us is  an  island.  None of us exists  apart from  our  relationships  to  other human  beings.  Yet  each of us is an individual, and as individuals we  may  enter into bonds  of  love and  compassion or we may operate in a  constant  state  of  war against others.  Individualism can be creative or destructive.  It can stimulate healthy growth or it  can inhibit it.  What Paul was saying to the Philippians was that within a  community of persons who care about one another, individualism loses its cancerous power.  Let  me  repeat  that thought:  within a community of  persons  who  care  about one another,  individualism  loses its cancerous power.  We are a nation of  free  individuals. 

Yet   what   we  most   cherish—our  marriages,  our   families,   our  communities,   our churches—depend on  our willingness to balance our wants and needs  with  the wants and needs of others. The freedom of the individual is the foundation of the greatness of our way of life. But unrestricted and unbalanced by a commitment to others,  individualism destroys  all  that makes life worthwhile.  Freedom without  responsibility  is the most contemptible and ruinous of all human fates.

 According  to Paul, the only cure for malignant individualism is sharing the mind  of Christ.  “Let  each  of you look not to your own interests, but to the  interests  of others. 

Let  the  same mind  be  in you that you have in Christ  Jesus,” says  Paul  (2:4-5 NRSV, alternate reading).   Verses  5 to 11 may be part of an ancient baptism  liturgy.   As such they would  have conveyed that by dying with Christ through baptism, we also rise  to new  life  in Christ  after  baptism. As  Jesus  emptied himself,  surrendering  whatever claims  he  had to be one with God, humbled himself by being  our  servant,  humiliated himself by dying the meanest of deaths, so also has he been exalted and given the  rank, title, and  honor  accorded only to God.  As he has been lifted up  by God,  so  does he share with us the power of his glorification.

  The  whole faith  of  the early church is here in the words:  “God has  given  him the name  that  is above  all names, that at the name of Jesus  every  knee should  bow  and every tongue  cnfess  that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God  the  Father.”  “Jesus Christ  is  Lord.” If these words speak to your heart and condition than  the message  of Paul to you is that the same Jesus empowers you to humble yourself, to put the interests of  others ahead of your own, to experience the exaltation of being  like Christ  because Christ lives in you.

If  you are troubled by the claims made by Paul and the early church, let  these word say  to  you that  Jesus of Nazareth is a model of what true humanity  is  all about,  that whatever you may believe or not believe about him, he is a example worth imitating.  Paul like  Jesus  before him had a profound understanding of  the human  condition.  They way we view people, the expectations we project on them even before we  have  a chance  to  know them,  the  manner with which we value  them or  devalue  them can greatly  affect them.  Over the years, I have met several celebrated and  successful  indi-viduals, who confided in me that the were afraid of only one thing: singing in public.  In each case, the story was the same.  It went something like this:

When  I was in grade school, my teacher singled me out and told  me  before my classmates.  “Some of us can  carry  a  tune, and  some can’t.   And  I’m afraid that  you  one  of those  who can’t.   But if  you  stand in the back row  and  move your  lips when  the class  sings  during the next  assembly,  no one  will notice.”  If  I told you who some of these self-confident, outgoing men and women  were, you would  be surprised that they still carried with them the sense of shame and inhibitions of experience of forty to fifty years ago.

The words,  “you  can’t,” have disabled more young people  than infantile  paralysis.  And the  words, “you can,” have given more assurance and self-assurance than  all  the psychiatrists, psychologists, and social workers who have ever lived.  When you value the other fellow as highly as you value yourself, you will think for  a second before uttering words that empower or words that disable.  When you value the other  fellow  as highly as you value yourself, you will resist the impulse  to gossip,  at-tribute  negative motives  to others, or denigrate their accomplishments.   No  one ever became an inch taller by reducing the stature of someone else.  But there are much more positive consequences of valuing the other fellow as highly as  you value yourself.  The way we view others affects their response.  If we are  hostile to others,  the  chances are that they will be defensive and closed to us.  If  we are  open and  approachable,  others will be joyful and open with us.   Consider  Mother  Theresa. 

As Charles Rice, the editor of Word & Witness, notes:

Mother  Theresa is an obvious example of [how] one’s  attitude  can affect the response of the other person.  She  sees  the face of  Christ in every dying person,  every beggar,  everyone sick  of body  or sick in heart.  In her  presence  everyone feels precious and worthwhile.  Without  a  doubt, the greatest reward in valuing the other person as  highly as  you value  yourself is  that the more highly you value and thus enhance the  life  of another person,  the  more highly  you come to esteem yourself.  If you see  the  world  as filled with  jerks,  you will  soon see a jerk in the mirror.  If you see  the world  as  filled with ordinary human beings, most of whom are doing the best that they can, you will see  an ordinary  human being  in the mirror, who is doing the best that he or she  can.   And if you  habitually  see the world as filled with potential saints, the  image  in  your mirror may turn out to be more Christlike than you would ever have suspected.  There  once was  a monastic community.  Over the course  of  many  centuries,  the fellowship  had slowly shriveled up and was ready to die. Only seven monks and  their abbot remained, and they were in their seventies, discouraged, and exhausted.  One day  the  abbot was talking to a local rabbi who often  visited the  monastery  to enjoy the seclusion it offered.  He and the abbot swapped stories of how difficult it was to share their faith with the modern, materialistic, me-first generation.  “What keeps you going?” the abbot asked of the rabbi.

“It is simple,” the rabbi replied.  “I tell my congregation that the messiah might be one of us, and I believe it.”

That  night at dinner, the abbot told the monk about his conversation with  the rabbi.  He  repeated the words: “The messiah might be one of us.”  Each of the  monks thought to  himselC:  “The messiah,  the  Christ, could be one  of us.”  And  something profound happened  as  a result. Each of the monks began treating his fellow as  though  he  were the Christ.  Soon they became more caring, compassionate, and open with one another.  As  their  mutual respect for one another grew, so also did  each  monk’s self-respect.  “If any of us could be the Christ, then I could be the Christ,” each of them thought.   And each of them began acting as though he might be the Christ.  The  monks began to make their huge but largely unused estate available to the  local populace for picnics and special occasions. Their beautiful spirits touched all who visit-ed.   Soon the visitors began to show interest in what made these monks  the men  they were.  The monks sought to convert no one, but when asked they spoke honestly  about their faith and the history of their community.

Within  a  few months, men and women who found themselves alone,  unloved,  and without anyone to care for sought the monks’ advice on starting a spiritual community.  The  monks aided them.  Then by two and threes, men from the neighboring  town and men  from  far away, began knocking at the doors of the abbey,  seeking acceptance  as brothers.  Women came from far and near to learn to pray and to lead disciplined Christian lives. Several of them joined similar communities for women in the region.   Others returned regularly to the monastery for special retreats and Bible study groups. You  have  probably caught  on by now.  I am not telling you  about a  monastery  in some foreign  land.   I am offering a parable about our own church.  I  am  presenting  a vision of things to come, a prediction of what can be, what will be if we take the  advice of  the Apostle Paul: “Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the  interests of others.  Let the same mind be in you that you have in Christ Jesus.”

Amen.

--LDS

 [1800 words]

[18 minutes]