Pentecost XXII

Exodus 32:1-14
Psalm 106:1-6, 19-23
Philippians 4:1-9
Matthew 22:1-14

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+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.  Amen. 

CONDUCT FOLLOWS CONTEXT.  Sometimes it’s hard, when we follow a lectionary, to keep before us the larger context, the big picture.  We learn a great deal from stories like the Exodus just by reading them, but to really understand them and know what these stories would have us do, we always ask “What is the context?”  What makes the idolatry of the Israelites so egregious is the context it came in, what they had just seen God do with their own eyes, what formed the basis of the first commandment:  “I am the Lord thy God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery; thou shalt have no other gods before me.”  (Exod. 20.2-3)  It’s what’s called “the historical prologue,”^[1] the part of a covenant that set out what one of the parties had done that now obligated the other party.  God brought Israel out of Egypt , therefore they were to be a distinct people with a new ethic and way of life based on these rules that would mark them out from all the other people of the earth.  Quite simply:  The Israelites met God; God delivered them from slavery; therefore they were to keep the law.

Some scholars see a similar structure to Paul’s letters, like Philippians.  This letter is to the “saints” in Philippi, people who have already come to believe the gospel, and Paul has now had three whole chapters to talk about what God had done for them, how they had experienced God’s hand beginning a “good work” in their lives.  (Phil. 1.6)  Now the first word of chapter 4 is “therefore” – It’s in light of what Paul what’s happened (“context”) that the Philippians are to behave a certain way (“conduct”) and live lives worthy of the gospel of Jesus Christ.  (Phil. 1.27)  Last week Fr. Lane preached about how Paul was determined to push himself, to “press on toward the goal for the price of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus,” (Phil. 3.12-14), and now Paul says “now you do that, and this is what it looks like when you do it.” 

In that context, Philippians 4 is essentially a rule of life, and it’s littered with imperatives, commands from the apostle about the specifics of the peculiar life he calls them to.  He commands them to stand firm; be notoriously gentle with each other; don’t worry, ask God for what you need; and do what you’ve seen me (Paul) do.  But let’s take a couple of these imperatives and tease them out a bit today. 

First, Paul commands unity.  He pleads with Euodia and Syntyche literally to “be of one mind.”  (Phil. 4.2)  It’s interesting to me that we don’t know anything about these two women except their names.  Paul doesn’t even tell us what they were so ticked at each other about.  Could’ve been doctrinal, ethical, political, just interpersonal, the letter doesn’t say, and it really doesn’t matter because they were members of the church, Christ’s body, and disunity in a body is a contradiction in terms.  It didn’t even matter who was right and who was wrong, or whether both were part right and part wrong; both had the responsibility to make the first move toward reconciliation, and the church was responsible to help them.  Division ran contrary to the single task which was set before them – Paul says these women had “struggled beside me in the work of the gospel.”  (Phil. 4.3)  One commentator wrote: 

Where there is agreement as to what the gospel is and what ought to be done with it, there is no room for personal disagreement.  The one ought to exclude the other.  Very often, of course, as at Philippi, it does not; but it ought to.  To agree on the gospel is the most fundamental form of unity: it involves a unity of mind and heart as to the doctrine and personal experience of salvation.^[2] 

I spent this past week in the White Mountains of New Hampshire with 8 other guys who are priests or about to be priests.  Some of us were TEC, some were Anglican Mission in America or were aligned with the Global South, some were older, some younger, some just in seminary; evangelical and catholic, democrat and republican.  There was probably nothing that every single one of us agreed about, except the gospel.  And it should be that way in our parish, too.  When we agree on the centrality of the gospel, then disagreements about ritual, and prayer books and missals, about the color of the flowers by the altar or the size of the sign in the yard, all secondary disagreements are stripped away in light of our common purpose, which is to know Christ and to make him known.  A. W. Tozer described how “one hundred pianos all tuned to the same fork are automatically tuned to each other[.]  They are of one accord by being tuned, not to each other, but to another standard to which each one must individually bow.”^[3]

Paul begs for Eudoia and Synteche to be “of one mind,” but, secondly, he commands the Philippians to be joyful.  “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.”  (Phil. 4.4)  It’s the command so nice he wrote it twice.  And it’s curious because of where Paul was when he wrote the letter:  He was certainly in prison, probably in Rome,^[4] essentially on death row with time running out on his life.  So obviously his own joy wasn’t linked to personal comfort or freedom.  It wasn’t linked to a retirement plan because he wouldn’t be around to enjoy it.  Something mattered more than any of that.  “Because of my chains, most of the brothers in the Lord have been encouraged to speak the word of God more courageously and fearlessly.”  (Phil. 1.14)  Paul wasn’t despondent because the gospel was served either by his life or his death.  (Phil. 1.20)  And he wasn’t just being pollyannish because renewing the world one person and one self-sacrificial act at a time is what God does for a living. 

Every morning my friend Mark prays a wonderful prayer called the Prayer of Self-Dedication: 

Almighty and eternal God, so draw our hearts to you, so guide our minds, so fill our imaginations, so control our wills, that we may be wholly yours, utterly dedicated unto you; and then use us, we pray you, as you will, and always to your glory and the welfare of your people . . . .^[5] 

How can you pray that and not look expectantly for how God can shine through whatever’s going on in our lives and in the life of this congregation?  When we see that God uses the circumstances of our lives to change the world, we can be more joyful and less anxious whatever those circumstances happen to be. 

But we all know that’s harder than it sounds.  It’s not as simple as flipping a switch in our heads and our hearts and our hands, there is preparation involved, and that’s the third point:  Paul’s commands aren’t just to do or not do certain things; he also commands them to prepare by steeping their minds in the right things.  The Philippians were formed by what went into their minds far before they had to put the rubber to the road and make any decisions or common action.  So Paul begged them:  Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.  (4.8)  The things we fill our minds with, are they uplifting, encouraging, true and beautiful?  Or is it the accumulation of what passes for television programming, for political discourse, even for literature and music and art.  It sounds un-Anglican to urge people to be careful what they watch on TV, but the “garbage in-garbage out” principle is a pretty good one.  Look for ways to remind yourself about the truth, about the Christian story, not “Dirty Sexy Money.”  That’s how we “make a habit of the virtues we treasure so that they become a regular part of each day.”^[6]

We started with context, and we end asking this question:  “What’s your context?”  Some of us are cradle Episcopalians and can’t recall a time when we didn’t know the Lord.  Others have had rather dramatic and charismatic conversion experiences.  For some our conversions were like crossing a border while driving in the dark of night; we can’t tell you exactly when or where it was, but from here in the light of day we can look back and say “I’m on the other side.”  We all meet God individually, and we all meet God corporately in the sacramental life of our parish.  We meet God together at every mass in the body and blood of Jesus, and in the same way that we eat physical food and get strength for work, we eat the spiritual food of Jesus’ flesh and blood to gain strength to do what Paul commanded – be of the same mind, have joy whatever our circumstances and live a distinctly countercultural life.  Paul said as much himself:  “I can do all things through him who him who strengthens (endunamao) me.”  (Phil. 4.13)  That’s how we keep this rule of life, by going back to the source of our strength day after day.  There are lots of opportunities for that here in this parish – daily mass, praying the office together, joining our Benedictine Cell, community groups, sacramental confession, the Catechumenate or Alpha.  The sacramental life of the church is not escapism, it is precisely the opposite, it’s how we meet God and where we get the dunamis (power) to be a peculiar people. 

Almighty and eternal God, so draw our hearts to you, so guide our minds, so fill our imaginations, so control our wills, that we may be wholly yours, utterly dedicated unto you; and then use us, we pray you, as you will, and always to your glory and the welfare of your people; through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. 

 Amen.