Humility and Authority – 11/09/08 – Philippians 2:1-13, Matthew 21:23-32

Scholars believe that verses 6-11 of Philippians chapter two were originally lines from a hymn that had been written by the early Christian community.  The hymn would have been composed by someone or a group of people whose names are long lost to us, and the song would have become known by different little Christian communities that were popping up in cities all over the Roman Empire.  As Paul is writing to the church in the city of Philippi he comes to a point in his letter when he is talking about humility.  He writes this: “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves.  Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others.”  Paul invites this community into something that he calls being “of the same mind.”  He says, “Be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind.”  He goes on to say, “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.” 

When he gets to the point of describing, elaborating on humility, and what it means to be of “the same mind” as Christ, he changes gears.  He stops writing in the form that he had been using and turns instead to the poetry of this hymn – as if what he is trying to say is best expressed through the beauty of a song.  All we have left of the song are the words here in this letter, but we can imagine some kind of melody behind them.  So, he writes “Do nothing with selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves.  Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others.  Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.”  And then, the words of the hymn:  (have soloist sing from HWB #333) “Christ, 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 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 confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” 

The hymn speaks of humility as authority and power; self-emptying as actually filling the whole universe with praise – something not easily communicated.  When the early Christians were trying to capture the specialness of Christ and the meaning of his life, they felt the need to go beyond rational explanation and description.  One of the ways that they did this was by putting together this hymn and singing it together.  The mind of Christ.  Humility as authority – a strange and wonderful song to sing. 

When I read this about being of the same mind, or being of the mind of Christ, and think about the life of the mind, I think about a speech that I watched online recently. (Click HERE for to see video.)  At www.ted.com there are all sorts of interesting videos of speeches by some of the best thinkers in their field, talking about how what they are discovering can contribute to a better world.  One of these is by a brain researcher Jill Bolte Taylor who had the unique experience being a brain scientist who had a stroke, and while she was having her stroke she had the awareness of mind to reflect on what it was that was going on with her, and since her recovery has been able to share her insights into her experience.  She describes these insights in physical neurological language, but also in spiritual language. 

The brain, she notes, has two distinct hemispheres, which function almost like two different minds.  The right hemisphere is filled with an awareness of the present moment.  It is always right here and right now.  It thinks in pictures and images and learns through all of the senses and movement of the body.  It is constantly taking in the energy of the world and registering what the world sounds like, looks like, feels like, smells like, tastes like, and turning that energy into explosions of information and images.  The consciousness of the right brain is one of connection to all that is, and knows no boundaries between things or individuals.  You and I are all part of the one energy field and we are of one mind.

The left hemisphere of the brain, she describes, is a very different place.  It thinks linearly, and is filled with an awareness of the past and the future.  It organizes and sorts and files information from the right hemisphere.  It collects the information that we take in from the present and associates it with all that we know of the past, and projects it into the future as we think about possibilities and options.  The images get turned into language and it speaks to us with words.  It differentiates between what is this and what is that and what isn’t this or that.  This is a piece of paper, and this is a lectern and this is a shirt.  And, most importantly, she says, it gives us a sense of personal identity.  This is me.  I am.  It sets us apart from our environment and tells us that we have boundaries between what is me and what isn’t me.  I am Joel.  I am married to Abbie and live at 4233 Brownway Ave. and am the pastor of Cincinnati Mennonite Fellowship.         

On the day of her stroke it was the consciousness of this left side of her brain that she lost.  It started with a pounding pain behind her left eye, and then she started to lose a sense of being in her body.  She watched her arms and legs as they became undifferentiated from what they were holding on to and touching.  She thought this was rather bizarre but then when she lost the ability to move her right arm she realized she was having a stroke.  She would get flashes of consciousness from her left brain that enabled her to make sense out of what was happening.  I’m having a stroke.  I need to call someone for help.  Then she would lose that consciousness and have to wait until she regained it back to figure out what it was she was doing.  Eventually she called for help and was on the ambulance getting taken to the hospital.  And she describes her experience of recognizing that this might be her time to die, and of feeling herself expand beyond her body as the left side of her brain shut down, losing all sense of personal boundaries and limits.  She says that she came to the point where she surrendered her spirit and felt total peace.     

And then, after however long, she realized that she was going to live, that the doctors had been able to save her.  And as she is realizing this she is wondering how this expansiveness that she felt in her spirit, this connectedness and harmony that she felt to all that was beyond herself, would ever fit back inside that little body that she had.  And then she had what she calls her stroke of insight.  She felt like she had to keep living because she believed she had something that she wanted to share with people.  Something important to teach about how we go about our lives.  And so this was a great motivator for her to recover.

She ends her talk by asking the question “Who are we?” and challenges her listeners to recognize that we have access to both hemispheres of the mind.  We are one, single, life force, a part of the same energy field, connected and interdependent, emptied of ourselves, and full of the whole world.  We are each unique individuals, persons with personalities and identities and differences.  She doesn’t use the word humility, but her message is a call for a great humility in how we live.  To have the kind of humility that recognizes that we as separate individuals, also share in one mind, and that in the one mind, there is no need for the unnecessary pride and arrogance that tend to define so many of our relationships.

I don’t mean to say that the Apostle Paul and Dr. Taylor are saying the exact same thing when they talk about being of the same mind.  I don’t mean to reduce being like Christ to a proper proportion of left and right brain activity.  But I do feel that this scientific model of how our minds work help sheds light on what we are being invited into as imitators of the mind of Christ.  “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.”  What is the mind of Christ?  How is it different than the one we are socialized into?  According to this hymn, it is a mind that is both connected to the eternal God, and aware of its own fragility.  Christ gained fullness by emptying himself.  He humbled himself and submitted himself to death.  The consciousness of the right mind and the left mind were in perfect harmony with each other and it allowed him to be in the world in a way that opened up a new path.  There was no conflict between the ego and the spirit.  The I of Christ and the I of the Father were one, even though Christ was also separate, in his body. 

The hymn presents all this as bearing great authority.  Humbled, yet exalted.  Submitted to death, yet raised up to life.  This is an authority made up of humility.  The power of humility isn’t the power of forcing us into anything, but the power of drawing us to itself out of the beauty that we see in it.

  This authority that Jesus carried with him was something that caught the attention of people around him and also brought him scrutiny.  At one point early in his ministry, we are told, “(The people) were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes” (Mark 1:22).  One day toward the end of his ministry when he was in the temple, teaching, the chief priests and elders of the people came up to him and asked “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?”  The temple was a place where there were supposed to be clear lines of authority.  The chief priests carried the authority of being appointed to this position.  They could wield the authority as they saw fit.  A significant part of the authority of the elders and the scribes came from the family that they were born into.  And Jesus comes onto their turf without any of this, but with some obvious power behind what he is saying and doing.  Where does it come from?  What is it?  It was coming from a different place. 

In classic Jesus style, he doesn’t answer the question directly as it is asked of him, but comes at it sideways.  He says: “I will also ask you one question: if you tell me the answer, then I will also tell you by what authority I do these things.  Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?”  At first glance this may appear that Jesus is just punting to the other team.  You tell me and then I’ll tell you.  But what it actually gets at is the very nature of authority that Jesus carries that the chief priests don’t have.  The question sends them into a huddle where they start discussing their options of how to answer.  They know that they have rejected John as a true prophet from God, so they aren’t able to answer that his authority came from heaven, otherwise they’d be admitting that they should have believed what he had to say.  But they know that if they answer that there wasn’t anything special about John then they had a fear for the crowds because they all felt that John was a prophet.  They get stuck in their calculating minds.  They are acting out of fear.  They don’t want to appear to be rebelling against God or rebelling against the people.  Their main concern is trying to protect their good name.  We might say that they are operating out of the limitations of the left brain.  Trying to establish their self over and against other selves. 

Not seeing a way that they can get out safe with option A or B, they opt for choice C, “We do not know.”  They supposedly carry with them great authority, yet they are motivated by fear and self-preservation.  In other words, they carry no real authority.  They don’t get Jesus’ authority because it is the opposite of their own.  Jesus is able to possess authority without being authoritarian.  There’s no coercion and there’s no manipulation in how he relates with people.  He’s not grasping on to anything, not even his own life.        

“Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.”  This way of being human is not something that comes naturally for us.  We have to be converted into the way of Christ – rewired and remade.  Our pathways have to be rerouted.  The way of Christ is foreign to our system.  Hopefully, we don’t have to have a near death experience in order to get it, although scripture does talk about our baptism as being like a death where we are brought back to life.  Hopefully there are ways each day when we can allow God to shape us and form us into the mind of Christ.  Humbling us.  Emptying us and filling us.

I come back to this useage of the hymn in the letter to the Philippians.  Sometimes in order to get something, we can’t be changed by a logical argument, but have to experience it in a special way.  We have to be confronted with it in a way that breaks through our rational, calculating mind.  We have to sing it, put it into poetry, in order for it to make its way into us through the side door.  The path of humility is one that we can’t just think ourselves into.  We have to sing it, feel it vibrate in our throats and our bodies, be a part of a chorus that is surrounding us and singing it together in order for it to make any sense.  We have to experience it coming at us from others.  That’s part of what I see us doing together in our times of worship.  We sing about strange and wonderful things that we may not be able to experience if they weren’t put to music.  We let our minds be filled with the thoughts of Christ and watch as they slowly change us into new people.  We bring our individual selves, but also let ourselves be expanded to include the whole community, to be not just separate isolated bodies gathered together, but to be the body of Christ.  The body of Christ, learning to have the mind of Christ.

 

The Non-Triumphalist Parade – 4,01,07

Parades.  Just about everyone enjoys a good parade every once in a while.  Abbie and I weren’t able to make it to the downtown Saint Patrick’s day parade a couple weeks ago, but this is what the Enquirer said about it – the article was called “A Scene of Green:”  “As Cincinnati’s 41st St. Patrick’s Parade kicked off, rows of families and groups of friends sporting plastic leprechaun hats, green boas, Cat-in-the-Hat-style striped hats and all shades of green attire lined the streets, three and four people deep.(There were) 150 or so groups that marched in the parade – including high school bands, clubs like the Shriners and the Red Hat Club and families such as ‘The Flynns.’”Parades are almost by definition festive – The normal everyday flow of street traffic is put on hold for a short while and in place of cars and semis and SUVS, we get marching bands, floats, and clowns filling the streets with a party atmosphere.  Things that normally spend time locked up in closets and garages come out for public display – bizarre costumes, really old or really new cars, firetrucksGrowing up, my favorite parade was the West Liberty Labor Day parade.  As far as I can remember, our family would go to this parade pretty much every year.  We were friends with a family who owned a house in town on a street that the parade would go by and we would take blankets and lawn chairs and watch things from their yard.  Being the farmboy that I was, my favorite part, aside from the people who threw candy, was the tractors.  All of the tractors were pretty old, but the last tractors to pass by were really old.  These were huge steam powered tractors, with big metal tires and all sorts of strange looking features that I’d never seen on our tractors at home.  For a young mind, they were like something out of a storybook.   There was also a certain element of mystery that went with the parade.  This yard where we would watch the parade was on a street corner where the parade would turn after they went by us.  And a little further up, before they got to us, they would turn a corner to come toward us.  So we would never see the beginning or the ending of the parade, but, as soon as that first marching band rounded that first corner, it was a continuous stream of parade coming from out of nowhere and going into nowhere.  As far as I knew, these people kept on marching and driving their tractors year round until it was time for them to come by this yard again the next Labor Day.  It didn’t strike me until I was a little older to start asking about where these people were coming from and where they were going.  How and where did they all get lined up like this in perfect order?  Did people drive their tractors to the parade or did they put their tractors on trailers and haul them there?  When and where did the parade stop?  When did the parade end and just become a shuffle of people dressed in costumes and driving large tractors trying to get back home to put on their regular clothes and put their tractors back in the sheds?   When I was younger I didn’t care at all about these questions.  We were on our own little island of this yard and the wonderfully mysterious parade stretched continuously around both corners without real beginning or end.It would be possible, on Palm Sunday when we celebrate what we call Jesus’ Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem, to view this with a similar mind of a child.  It is after all, a wonderfully mysterious parade, with palms being waived and coats spread out like soft pavement on the road, and a donkey and festive crowds.  It would be possible to sit in this familiar spot and watch the parade appear almost out of nowhere and then disappear around the corner until we come back next year to see it all over again.  It would be possible to do that and not ask any other questions about it.  Questions like What events have led up to this parade?  What is Jesus trying to pull here and where is he going on this little donkey?  After he rounds the corner into the city will he pack up and go home or is there something more going on here?In Luke’s gospel, Jesus making his way to Jerusalem has been a long process, spanning ten chapters of the book.  Chapter 9 v. 51 states that “Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem.”  Several other times in the chapters that follow Luke reminds us that Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem.  In his travels he was in the habit of sending people out in pairs ahead of him to do the prep work in the next town he would enter.  At the beginning of chapter 10 it says Jesus “appointed seventy others and sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go.” So when Jesus finally does arrive near Jerusalem on the eastern side by the Mount of Olives, he continues his normal practice of sending out a pair to make preparations.  All signs show that Jesus had put plenty of planning and aforethought into the whole scenario.  He gives these disciples instructions and code words.  They are to look for a colt, which they will find as they enter the village, the owners will ask a question, and they will respond “The Lord needs it.”  Then the owners will know these are the ones Jesus has sent to fetch the colt for him.  The pickup works without a hitch and the disciples help Jesus up onto the colt and the parade begins.  This very public event on streets leading into the city.

It is likely that around the time Jesus was parading into the city from the east, there was another parade making its way into the city from the west – a Roman parade.  The Passover festival presented a security concern to Rome as thousands of Jews who lived scattered across the empire would come in and swell the population of Jerusalem.  Passover being the festival when Jews celebrated and remembered their deliverance from the Egyptian empire, the city at this time had great potential for producing sparks that could light a fire of revolt against this present empire.  So Pilate, the Roman governor, would have come down from his palace in Caesarea on the coast to spend the week in Jerusalem as a security measure.  No doubt did not enter quietly.  His parade into the city would have been complete with men marching in full costume, a military show of power, as a deterrence against any who would seek to challenge the power of Rome.  Pilate’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem was the age-old parade of the pomp and glory of the victors, the occupiers, the power of domination which was meant to inspire awe and submission from those who lined the streets.  It was a public display of power based on the threat of death. 

This kind of parade served the same purpose as crucifixions, which were numerous and quite public.  Crucifixions were Rome’s way of making a parade out of people it saw as a threat to the stability of the empire.  A public display of the power of the empire meant to inspire awe and submission from those who passed by.    Seeing people hanging on crosses on street corners and gasping for their last breaths sent a pretty strong message of who was in charge.  Pilate parades into Jerusalem to keep the peace.  This was Pax Romana, the peace of Rome.  In Rome’s empire, the things that made for peace was the presence of overwhelming force, shock and awe on public display.      

 

Jesus told many parables using words to teach people about the kingdom of God, but he also acted out parables without words to teach about the kingdom of God.  His so-called “triumphal entry” parade into Jerusalem is exactly this -  a parable about the presumptuousness of the power of empire and an alternative vision for how to be human – or more accurately, the only vision of how to be human and not a monster.  At stake are the things that make for peace.  What are the things that make for peace? 

 

Jesus’ street theater parable is a very intentional act of teaching.  This parade is intentionally set up as a counter the story of the empire.  This peasant non-king riding a little donkey, the only float in this parade, might help wake people up from being entranced with the royal king on his war horse surrounded by signs of imperial power.  The empire says peace comes through domination and through crucifying those who threaten the established order.  Jesus is acting out the story of the God who has always been delivering people out of empire, bringing Abraham out of Ur of the Chaldeans, bringing the children of Israel out of Egypt, bringing the Jews out of Babylon.  Jesus is living by the story of the prophet Zechariah who saw a way of living outside of the story of empire.  Zechariah has said, “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem.  Lo, your king comes to you: triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey.  He will cut off the battle chariot from Ephraim, and the war-horse from Jerusalem; and the battle bow shall be cut off.  And he shall command peace to the nations.” 

 

At stake are the things that really make for peace.  When Jesus neared the city, having acted out these words from Zechariah, he says to the city, “If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace!”  But now they are hidden from your eyes.”  Rome is convinced, and seems to have just about everyone else convinced that the things that make for peace are the presence of dominant power and the threat of death.

 

As we were preparing for this service this week and sending some emails back and forth, Debbie made a comment that I found particularly insightful.  She was thinking about what songs to pick out and she wrote “I’m not always clear as to whether Palm Sunday is joyous or ominous.”  So which is it?  How would you answer that question?

 

Jesus triumphal entry is about as nontriumphalist as you can get.  He has no enforcement mechanism for this reign of peace he desires.  His weapon is his complete, overflowing compassion for those who have lost their way and are destroying themselves.  And his invitation to those around him, “Come, follow me.”

 

Is this a joyous festive parade, with Jesus riding in and bringing God’s peace for all in the city?  Should we sing songs of praise and celebration?

Is this parade a prelude to a tragedy, with the “victorious king of peace” about to have a run in with the realpolitik of the authorities assigned with keeping the peace of the empire?  Should we be somber and mournful?   

 

The parade of donkey, palm branches, and shouts of joy leads to the parade of the crucifixion.  Jesus becomes another example of the utter foolishness of challenging empire.  Rome disarms him and puts him on parade as a crucified, dying man, making a public example for everyone to see who holds the real power.  Behold, the real triumphal parade.  The victory of empire and the power of death.

 

Which is why it is remarkable for the book of Colossians to make a comment like this:  Jesus “disarmed the rulers and authorities and made a public example of them, triumphing over them on the cross” Colossians 2:15.  Jesus made a public example of the rulers, triumphing over them on the cross?”  Rome thought it was making a parade of Jesus, but instead Jesus made a parade of death, putting it on public display on his cross.

Behold, a mystery of our faith.  Jesus’ greatest parable of all. 

 

Jesus walks right into the triumphal parade of empire and he isn’t entranced with it, he isn’t mesmerized by its power.  He is forsaken by everyone closest to him, but he simply doesn’t buy into the spin of the empire.  He sees right through it, the only one who can see clearly.  It does not hold the things that make for peace.  It holds the things that make for death.  And he puts death on parade to undo our trance with glorifying violence and believing that we are somehow saved through our killing.  The mystery of our faith — Jesus made a public display of the powers who rule by death, and thus conquered death.  In whatever dark alley this parade of death got started, it had continued on and on we were all content to just be in awe and wonder at its grand march, thinking it is what brought peace.  But Jesus has declared that this parade must stop with his death.  No more parade of death.  No more rule of empire.  The things that make for peace are brought by the one who entered the city on a donkey, not on a war horse.  The triumphal parade of the peasant un-king who says, come, follow me.  The invitation to call Jesus Lord instead of the powers of domination.  To join the everlasting parade of life and celebration.

           

Debbie wrote, “I’m not always clear as to whether Palm Sunday is joyous or ominous.”  For a response song we’ll be singing together a hymn that recognizes it is both.  Joy and sorrow, victory and defeat, the gift of life that is free from the fear and sting of death.  “My life flows on in endless song…”