Dear Friends,
Have you figured out that I sometimes like to use a popular song or hymn to focus our thoughts in these Daily Notes? It seems that I’m in unbelievably good company, because Paul apparently does the same thing in his letter to the Philippians. Please take a moment to read Philippians 2:5-11.
Biblical scholars pretty much agree that this reading is a hymn, even though they can’t find any trace of it in other writings around the time of Paul. Its poetic, rhythmic cadence reinforces the depth of its words and suggests an almost choral or chanting incantation. When Paul visited the emerging Christian community in Philippi, a town in eastern Macedonia, he may have introduced them to this song in person. If, as some speculate, he is repeating the hymn in his letter, he may be using it to remind them of the personal relationship he had forged with them. That relationship is crucial to his work to nurture this newly forming Christian flock into fuller maturity.
Paul writes this letter to the group at Philppi from a prison cell. After hearing that they were embroiled in division and argument, he is deeply concerned. Their behavior was a clear threat to the emerging wider Christian community; this is not how Christians should live together. Sharing this hymn, called the kenōsis (Greek for emptying) hymn, with them, he tries to re-ground them in the story of Jesus. The hymn begins with a vivid reminder of the power and depth of the fully human Jesus’s self-giving. The implication for the troubled community at Philippi is clear: Shape up! Get over yourselves! Behave as though you were Jesus himself!
And that notion is made particularly clear in the almost shocking words of the opening verse. Are we really to have the same mind as Jesus? Does Paul really mean that? Is he actually recommending such arrogance, or is he simply foolish and a day late? I don’t believe we’re to take these words literally; Paul is not actually suggesting that we can possibly be identical – of the same mind – to Jesus. Paul is instead calling us to a common commitment. In modern vernacular, he might have said that we are to be on the same page as Jesus.
Having gotten their (and our) attention, Paul goes on to remind them of the essence of Jesus’s humanity. “Though he was in the form of God, [he] did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave.” (verses 6-7) “He humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross.” (verse 8) How could this bickering group read those words and not stop to examine the shallowness of their motives and actions?
Paul shares these compelling words as witness to God’s love, and also to encourage the community at Philippi (and us as we study this passage) to action that is more in line with that which was modeled by Jesus the Christ. We, in turn, being of the same mind as Jesus (that shocking notion), should live our lives in a similar way, without arrogance or entitlement, but humbly and “obedient to the point of death.”
In six short verses, Paul outlines the Christ event for us. Jesus, in the form of God, is in heaven. He willingly forgoes the singular divinity that is his and takes on human likeness, which Paul compares to slavery. And perhaps that’s what it would be for God to voluntarily take on the fullness of being human. In Roman times, slaves were at the bottom of the social/economic pyramid. Thus, not only did Jesus the divine become fully human, but he entered our less-than-heavenly realm as the lowliest of people.
It’s important that Jesus was not forced to take on his human-ness. Paul’s description here is a description of the depth of God’s love for creation. The implication is clear: we, too, are to freely choose to behave with humility and obedience; we are to stop our childish squabbling and remember who it is who inspires and unites us.
And then Paul pivots in verse 9. He reminds us that Jesus was, in fact, God, the highest form imaginable. This is not just a simple pivot, however; it’s Paul telling us that Jesus fosters a radical equality. In the person of Jesus, we find both God and slave, the highest and the lowest. Jesus lives a humble life and dies a shameful death on the cross when the Roman authorities execute this man who is God in the basest, most humiliating way, as a common criminal.
As we anticipate the beginning of Holy Week, we anticipate the joyous Hosannas of Palm Sunday. But we also know that the horror of Good Friday is coming. And yet, and yet…we have the assurance that from this lowliest of deaths, God will exalt Jesus on Easter morning. Jesus, who became human and thereby took on the form of a slave, is eternally honored to the glory of God. “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.” (verses 10-11)
This is the essence of Easter: love triumphs!
As we live through this story in this coming week, may our faith be deepened. May the journey we travel in these very difficult times remind us that we travel with each other, and with Jesus the slave who is also the risen Lord.
Together, let us pray this prayer from the Book of Common Worship,
God of all, you gave your only-begotten Son to take the form of a servant, and to be obedient even to death on a cross. Give us the same mind that was in Christ, that, sharing in his humility, we may come to be with him in his glory, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.