Monday, September 26, 2011

Pentecost 15: The Same Mind in Christ

Ezekiel 18:1-4, 25-32
Psalm 25:1-9
Philippians 2:1-13
Matthew 21:23-32

In some ways Paul’s letter to the Philippians stands out among his other correspondence in the New Testament. As one commentator writes: the letter “seems to have been written simply because Paul is fond of his Philippians….In the letter he opens his heart to them, and tells them of his joy and his sufferings”. Paul’s special relationship with the Philippians may have stemmed from the fact that they seem to have been the only Christian community from which Paul accepted financial assistance. It is more than likey for this reason that the image and language of partnership appears so often in this epistle. In the ancient world, partnerships were created on the basis of verbal agreements. The parties shared common goals, and – as the majority of these partnerships were commercial – the parties shared equally in the rewards or profits. Now, such “partnerships lasted only as long as the original parties were agreed about their common purpose and as long as all the original parties were alive, when these conditions ceased to exist, the partnership was dissolved.”

As we read the letter, it appears that it was within this social construct of partnership that Paul understood the relationship that existed between himself and the Christians in Philippi. In the epistle’s fourth chapter he makes this explicit: “You Philippians know that…no church shared with me in the matter of giving a receiving…Not that I seek the gift, but I seek the profit that accumulates to your account” (Philippians 4:15, 17) – giving, receiving, profits, account, all the language of the a commercial enterprise. Moreover, Paul was in prison at the time of writing and there was a possibility of his death, so he is keen to encourage a common purpose among the Philippians in order that work of the partnership they have created will continue to prosper. So, as we heard last week, he writes at the very start of the letter, “live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ,..standing firm in one spirit, striving side by side with one mind for the faith of the gospel.” (Philippians 1:27)

Paul’s emphasis on common purpose, as well as his partnership-resonant language would not have been surprising or unusual to the first-century residents of Philippi. However, as we hear today, he takes the elements of this contemporary social and commercial relationship, and places it within a new and deeper context – that of the relationship of the Church with Christ; and certainly, that is not a partnership that can be dissolved by Paul’s death, as the writer of 2 Timothy suggests: “if we are faithless, [Christ] remains faithful, for he cannot deny himself.” (2 Timothy 2:13) So, Paul exhorts the Philippians first by alluding to the rewards and profits of this partnership: love, a sharing in the Spirit, compassion, sympathy; imploring them that if they have found any consolation in these, that is any spiritual rewards, benefits, dividends, as it were, then they should continue faithful to the partnership, they should continue in a common purpose, a common mind: “be of the same mind, having the same love,….Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 2: 2, 5)

What is the mind of Christ? At its heart is a kind of humility that does not need to insist on its own way, but can be patient with others in charity; even accommodating one’s self to the needs and brokenness of the other in love. Paul urges the Philippians to have the mind of Christ; to do “nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others better than yourselves;…[to] look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others”. (Philippians 2:3-4) In order to highlight this point he quotes a primitive Christian hymn which pre-dates the letter, and with which most probably the Philippians would have been familiar, and might even have known by heart. In using the hymn, Paul wants to highlight that if anyone had the right to insist on his own way it was Christ who was himself “in the form of God” (Philippians 2:6). But Christ did not. He did not regard his “equality with God as something to be exploited” (Philippians 2:6), rather he humbled and accommodated himself to the mind of the Father and “become obedient to the point of death”. (Philippians 2:8) The partnership between Christ and the Father was everything, and so Christ deferred himself to the common mind of the partnership in which he and the Father were engaged.

When was the last time you deferred to someone, not just because the person was necessarily right, or simply to keep the peace, but because it was right; it was the right thing to do, because it served the common purpose, the common mind? To many of us today this idea of deferring to another, humbling ourselves in accommodation, may seem ridiculous and even self-defeating. It may seem to go against everything our culture tells us about the importance of our personal identity, the importance of the individual, the modern sense of our right and entitlements. And there is no arguing that simplistic ideas of humility and accommodation have been mis-used and abused, even in the Church, to keep certain groups of people down, women most notably. But the humility of Christ which we are called to imitate has nothing to do with that sort of self-abasement, but instead arises out of the partnership we have forged with him as a people, out of a desire to have with him a common mind of service and care for the other, out a desire to do the best for the Church and the world.

When I was practicing as a therapist I was working with a particular woman. She was a Christian whose mother, also a Christian, was domineering and expected her daughter to care for her exclusively. The mother dissuaded her marrying, even to point of frightening off potential partners or convincing her daughter of their unsuitability. This woman saw it as her duty in Christ to accommodate her mother and humble herself to the mother’s needs and desires. In the end, when the mother died the daughter was left friendless and dis-orientated. Does this scenario fulfill Paul’s plea for Christians to “look not to [their] own ineterests, but to the ineterests of others”? Does this partnership constitute a meeting of minds for mutual joy and benefit? Of course not! In fact, by accomodating the mother in such a way the women was not looking to the mother’s interests, but instead allowing the mother to indulge her self-centredness and self-importance. In the end, what the daughter realised was that her actions were more to keep the peace, than out of pure Christian humility. She came to the painful realisation that in her mis-guided idea of Christian humility and service she had done a dis-service both to herself and to her mother. Humility and service have nothing to do with being a doormat, but rather with the reality of striving for the interests of others because we know that in their well-being is our own. Our partnership as Christians, and even as human beings points to that. For this reason Paul stresses the importance of a common mind first, before we enter into the serious partnership of humility and service: “Let this mind be in you, that was in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 2:5)

As Christians we are all in partnership with each other and with God in Christ. That means we should always strive for a common mind. It does not mean we all have to think the same, but it does mean that that in humility we can sacrifice for one another and the world. It means that more than we usually do, we allow ourselves to be guided by the interests and well-being of others and not our immediate and private concerns. It means we sometimes defer to one another for the well-being of the whole, even if it challenges our own conclusions or personal tastes or temperament. But, at the same time, it also means that we are never alone. It means that others are doing the same for us, and that we can happily drop out of the rat-race of looking out for “number one”. It means we come to share in the benefits – the dividends, if you will – of the partnership: consolation, love, compassion, sympathy among them, and ultimately with Christ to share in the glory of God the Father in this world and in the next.

Monday, September 19, 2011

Pentecost 20: The Gracious Generosity of God.

Jonah 3.10-4.11
Psalm 145.1-8
Philippians 1.21-30
Matthew 20.1-16

Driving down Caldwell towards Visalia, I was reminded that we are beginning the grape harvest, and so today’s gospel seems particularly appropriate. The vintage season in the Holy Land – a period from July to August – coincides with our own; and those we see working in the vineyards surrounding our city are not fundamentally different from the workers Jesus describes in his parable: days labourers who may only work as and when there is need. For us, here in Central Valley the resonances between what we see in the week and what we have heard this morning are almost palpable. At the same time, there is also something in this parable which touches on the finality of all things, the final reckoning, the reminder that in the end “the last will be first, and the first will be last.” (Matthew 20.16) This is the last parable Jesus tells in the Gospel of Matthew before he and his friends enter Jerusalem for the final time. Indeed the verses directly after this parable – verses 17-19 – are Jesus telling his friends about the fate he is sure awaits him in Jerusalem: “See, we are going to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and scribes, and they will condemn him to death; then they will hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified.” (Matthew 20.18–19) And what theme does the writer of the Gospel of Matthew place on Jesus’ lips as the story turns towards his death? The theme of God’s generosity. Last week’s parable of the unmerciful servant and today’s parable of the labourers in the vineyard, both highlight the generous nature of God and both demand of their listeners – that’s you and me – a response.

As the images in today’s parable are not far from our experience – we who live so close to the “Raisin Capital of the World” – so neither are the themes drawn out in the parables, both in this week’s and last’s. They speak to us not only by what they say in and of themselves, but also by where they are placed in the Gospel of Matthew – the only Gospel in which they appear, by the way. Of course, the theme of God’s generosity to which I have already alluded is clear. Yet, in last week’s parable it would seem that the generosity of God is dependent upon our own. The lord writes off the slave’s huge debt, but, on discovering that this same slave did not forgive a much smaller debt owed by a fellow-slave, retracts the write-off and places the slave in prison until he should pay the debt. The story is rounded off by Jesus’ words: “So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.” (Matthew 18.35) While this may seem to make God petty, with a rather quid pro quo attitude, that is not, I think, what the writer means to express. But rather, that this is the economy of the universe, as it were. Jesus expresses this in other parts of the Gospels: “Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap; for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.” (Luke 6.37-38) In short, “what goes around comes around”. The world we live in is a generous world, a gracious world, created by a generous and gracious God; and to partake most fully in that generosity and graciousness, we must be willing to make a response in the same generous and gracious spirit. When we make that response we open ourselves up to receiving the fullest measure of God’s generosity.

Today’s parable seems to be about making that response, and about how little God’s generosity relates to any quid pro quo, tit for tat arrangements. All who participated in the work of the vintage season, in the work of the kingdom, share equally in the gracious generosity of the landowner. I say “the work of the kingdom”, because that is what we can understand the work in the vineyard as representing: the work of the kingdom, our participation in the generous and gracious spirit of God. The work of the kingdom is our responding in generosity and graciousness to God’s own generosity and graciousness. At the same time the parable expresses that God’s generosity is a surprising generosity; that God’s graciousness is an unexpected graciousness. Like the generosity of the landowner it may even seem unfair because it is indiscriminate. And many of us may very well identify with those workers who, realising that the late-comers were receiving the same wages as they, “grumbled against the landowner, saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ ”(Matthew 20.12) But, fair or unfair, there it is nonetheless. It seems that we want generosity when applied to ourselves, but fairness when it comes to others. Yet, somehow the generosity of God is not measured out in accordance to our labours; part of our participating fully in it is accepting that reality, even celebrating it. If we are really to be generous and gracious people then we must be willing to affirm graciousness and generosity wherever, wherever it presents itself, wherever it is made manifest. For some reason that is not always an easy thing for us human beings, and Jesus in the gospels is aware of that. The landowner says to the disgruntled labourers: “Are you envious because I am generous?”(Matthew 20.15b) Or, more literally, “Is your eye evil because I am good?” It is not dissimilar to the response which the father makes to the disgruntled brother in the parable of the prodigal son: “Son,” he says “you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.” (Luke 15.31–32) The first step to responding to the great generosity of God, the graciousness of the universe, is simply to allow it to happen and to celebrate it whenever it does happen. The beginnings of the response is simply to not begrudge the good, the beautiful, the lovely, the tender and compassionate wherever it occurs.

Such an attitude renews our mind and converts our spirit so that we can participate even more fully in the gracious and generous work of God. It allows us to see the world through a lens of generosity, to interpret the world with a hermeneutics of graciousness, and when we do that our entire viewpoint shifts. When we do that we are changed into more generous and gracious people. When we do that we are moved to do more and more acts of gracious generosity, to do more and more the work of the kingdom. We are transformed more and more to be the images of Christ in world; Christ, who lived an exemplary life of generosity and graciousness, who believed to the core that the God in whom he trusted was a God of grace and generosity, who had created a gracious and generous world. For that reason he looked for the best in people. He lived the message of forgiveness with abandon. He welcomed all who came to him, regardless of what society might think of them or of him. Even in the face of his impending death, he was able to still proclaim the good news of generosity. Even on the cross he was willing, in graciousness, to give people the benefit of the doubt: “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23.34); and in generosity to affirm the goodness of God to his fellow human beings: “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” (Luke 23.43)
Yes, we are in the midst of the harvest season, and the abundance with which we are afforded physically and spiritually should draw our minds to the graciousness and generosity of God. The abudance with which are afforded invites us into the economy of the universe preached and lived by Jesus in which what goes around comes around and in which the grace and goodness of God are for everyone; and whether we think they deserve it or not is completely and utterly immaterial.