The Simple Joy of Being Together - Philippians 2:5-11
Well, here we all are! Together! In this room! Can you believe it? I simply cannot express to you how wonderful it is to see the place filled with people who love it after standing empty for so long. It has been just over a year, 54 weeks in fact, since we last lifted our voices together in praise and worship. And it has been quite a trying year.
We spent the first few weeks of the pandemic binge-watching reality television, vying for toilet paper, and coming to terms with our anxiety about the virus, quarantine, isolation, and the economy. Over the summer, we spent time outside, we connected with friends old and new on Zoom, but we also witnessed our nation groan with the pain of systemic racism and senseless violence. Then, as fall approached, virus cases soared and so did political antagonism as the election loomed. Then we had to adjust our treasured holiday traditions. Almost as soon as the new year began, it was marked by more violence at the capital. Finally, in recent weeks, spring has arrived and ushered in what promises to be a brighter season for all of us.
Needless to say, we have been tested, as global citizens and as a community of faith. Right here at Christ Church, we have had to work harder than ever before to show love to ourselves and our neighbors, to resist temptation, and to repent of our human brokenness. And this is because we’ve had to work harder than ever before to maintain our Christian hope, that fundamental trust that God’s purposes are being worked out, a hope from which the rest of our lives flow. As many people have quipped, this was a really long Lent, and we could all use some resurrection.
At first, I was quite stumped about what to say from the pulpit today. On one hand, I want to celebrate our regathering, but on the other hand, we are entering Holy Week, a time of solemn reflection and remembrance. What I realized, however, is that the Holy Spirit is not moving primarily through my words today. I see the Holy Spirit most clearly this morning in the simple act of all of us gathered together in this place to worship in familiar and comforting ways. I feel the Spirit in the sound of voices collectively proclaiming “thanks be to God,” after the readings. It’s in the hymns we haven’t heard in a year but will likely be humming for the rest of the week. It’s in the mundane sitting and standing and page turning that our muscle memory has preserved for us. The profound joy of simply being together is a sermon in itself.
The Christians in Philippi, a major port city in modern day Greece, were also struggling to maintain the Christian hope in the middle of the first century. They were experiencing persecution from their community, and several local opportunists were claiming to be better, truer Gospel proclaimers than Paul, their friend and founder. But most stressful to them was that their beloved Paul was stuck in prison in Ephesus, or possibly Rome, and could not get back to them. The pain of that separation stung. We know that feeling.
Paul’s letter to the Philippians is one of most beloved epistles in Scripture, largely because this rhetoric of friendship is so strong. He really misses them as well. And while he gives them plenty of reassurance that all is well and encourages them to keep the faith, Paul also understood what I have recently discovered. Sometimes, the best expression of spiritual joy and companionship is the simple recitation of familiar words and songs. Being together liturgically (even though they are apart) is the best gift Paul could give them. And so we get today’s passage. I’d like to share it one more time.
“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.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death—
even death on a cross.
Therefore God also highly exalted him
and gave him the name
that is above every name,
so that at the name of Jesus
every knee should bend,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue should confess
that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.”
Most scholars agree that Paul did not author these words himself, but was instead quoting a well known Christian hymn. One might call it the “Amazing Grace” of the first century. The Philippians would have read this letter already knowing these words, perhaps even singing along. In the midst of their trials and separation from their friend and leader, I imagine they found great comfort in reciting these familiar words in congregation, knowing that Paul was doing the same in his isolation. It’s a life-giving scene to imagine, because if anyone knows this gift of the liturgy, it’s us.
Over time, this passage became known to theologians as the kenosis hymn. Kenosis is a Greek word Paul uses in this letter, and is translated this morning (evening) as “emptied,” though a more appropriate translation might be “poured out.” God poured God’s self out into a human being, and then lifted that human being up, so that we too might be lifted up as part of his body. From this ancient hymn, we begin to make sense of the incredible events we are commemorating this week, we begin to see the magnitude of what Christ was willing to undergo, and what it means for us, both as a gift and a call to a new life.
Paul may well have chosen to quote this hymn not only to bring comfort to those who would read and recite it, but as a reminder that what happened during that first holy week is the crux of their faith and ours, and directs our lives still. We, too, in the midst of whatever separation, isolation, or any other tribulation we find ourselves in, are called by God to imitate Christ by pouring out our own will to receive the will of God. We have certainly had ample opportunity to practice letting go of our plans this year. How will we take on the purposes of God this week and as we move forward with regathering?
We will begin, as we always do, with our common worship, offering up our voices together in familiar prayers and praises. We will mark this holy time with a renewed mission as a community of faith. We will let the simple act of being together provide us with the strength we need to live into the mind of Christ, pouring ourselves out for the sake of the Gospel. We have a long week ahead of us, but we also have the joy of reunion after so much time apart. As Paul and his dear friends in Philippi did before us, let us mark this sacred occasion with a liturgy that we know and love, and bring the Gospel back into this holy place. Amen.