Pressing On

Week 3 of 4 in Philippians. This week: Phil. 3:4-16. Also, it was World Communion Sunday.

Johnny was a P.K.: a preacher’s kid. He grew up right next to the church where his father was pastor. His mother, Susie, raised him with strict, yet loving discipline. She read him and his nine siblings Scripture every morning and every evening. As the pastor’s family, they never missed church. Johnny eventually grew up, left home with his Bible knowledge in hand, and moved on to the finest seminary in the country. He wanted to be a pastor just like his dear old dad, so he went to study for the ministry. After that, Johnny – now going by the more mature name of “John”, became a minister. And boy, did he make his parents proud. Look at this: we’ve raised a fine young man here, walking in the light, being a good and faithful Christian since birth. He obeys the law found in Scripture, gives alms to the poor, teaches others in the way of truth – he’s a swell guy, as anyone who knows him will tell you. He even goes on mission trips overseas!

Then, at age 35, a decade after leaving seminary, John had a conversion experience. He wasn’t seeking it – remember, he was a minister. He knew where he stood with regards to religion…or so he thought. And one day, John was walking down the street and heard a guy speaking. As he got closer, he realized the man was actually reading from a book. And after listening for awhile, he discovered the book being read was commentary on one particular religion’s holy book of faith. And this son of a pastor, who had been a good person all his life, was finally converted by what he heard. Yes, on that 24th day of May, after 35 years of being a preacher’s kid, and after 10 years of being a preacher, John Wesley finally became a Christian.

John Wesley: the founder of Methodism. Born as the son of an Anglican priest, became ordained as an Anglican priest himself, yet he points to May 24th, 1738 as the day he was converted into being a Christian. His heart was strangely warmed that day, he says, and from that point on he began to preach with new vigor, new vitality. He led a movement for renewal among the Anglican church, for its worship and its ministry was not “Spirit-filled” enough. The services were dull and stuffy, so he had his brother Charles write some really kicking hymns – like the opening hymn we sang this morning. And eventually, that renewal movement led to the birth of the people called Methodists, the missionizing of the American Colonies, the establishment of the Methodist Episcopal Church, which in 1968 became what we now know as the United Methodist Church. All because John Wesley experienced Christ on a street corner in 1738.

For the last 3 weeks we’ve been looking at Paul’s letter to the Philippians. Two weeks ago we looked at chapter one, where Paul instructs us that sometimes being a Christian is difficult – sometimes it is even harder than it is to not be a Christian. Last week we talked about how being a Christian requires us to let God work in and through us. And this week, Paul continues talking about what God does for us in our lives.

Before his conversion to Christianity, Paul was a good Jew – of true Hebrew blood, a Pharisee (that is, a religious leader), and he even had a great Hebrew name: Saul. As is well-documented in the book of Acts, Paul (then known as Saul) was a persecutor of Christians. Yeah, that sounds like a bad guy, until you remember that the Christians were these crazy, upstart religious zealots wreaking havoc on the established order of religion. To put it softly, they were up to no good. And Saul was simply doing what he thought was right – defending the religious community against those who weren’t cut out for religion. Of course, he wasn’t perfect – he was probably a leader in the stoning of Stephen – but he was doing it to maintain the boundaries of religion, to keep things orderly as a way of honoring God. That is what Saul was trying to do: he was trying to honor God, even as he did things that were so obviously wrong in our eyes today.
But then Saul had his conversion experience. He encountered Christ on the road to Damascus, changed his name to Paul, and his entire value system was flipped upside down. His entire understanding of religion changed as a result of his conversion experience. And he talks about his change of perspective here in the third chapter of his letter to the Philippians.
If anyone has reason to consider themselves good, religious people, Paul has more. He’s the type of guy who really follows religious teachings to a T. Paul used to be the most righteous person you could find, in terms of human righteousness, anyway. He was righteous, that is “in good standing with God”, because as the tradition taught, he followed God’s law.

But then Paul experienced Christ, and he discovered a new type of righteousness. He discovered that righteousness by the law is only part of the equation. This morning, the Ten Commandments were read as our Old Testament lectionary text for the day. And just look at the high esteem we still place on these laws today. We still try to live our lives in accordance with these and other laws of Scripture. But what Paul realized is that being righteous according to the law, or following all the “Thou shalts” and “Thou shalt nots” only gets you so far. It only makes someone a good, upstanding, moral person. Anyone can follow these laws without actually being a Christian.

Righteousness for Saul was following the Hebrew law. Righteousness for Paul was getting knocked off his high horse and on his butt in an encounter with the Risen Christ. This is what he calls righteousness by faith, a righteousness that takes us beyond being good, moral people. It’s a righteousness that brings us face-to-face with Christ our Lord, drawing us into a “right relationship” with him. It’s a righteousness by faith, not by law. It’s a righteousness because of what Christ has done for us, rather than what we have done for Christ. John F. Kennedy famously said, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but ask what you can do for your country.” Paul, in a way, is reversing that with regards to Christ. Don’t think about what you can do for Christ, but think about what Christ has already done and continues to do for you. Don’t ask what you can do to make yourself righteous, but ask what Christ has already done to make you righteous.

Paul understands here that righteousness – being in a right relationship with God – does not come from our good behavior. It doesn’t come from following religious doctrine or Scriptural law. This does provide a structural framework for experiencing God, but following the law alone does not draw us into a true, Spirit-filled relationship with God. John Wesley preached for a decade before he really felt like he experienced Christ. And Wesley did not encounter Christ because he was doing a really good job of not murdering, honoring his father and mother, and not stealing his neighbor’s cow. And Wesley did not encounter Christ because he was seeking such an encounter. He encountered Christ because Christ sought Wesley out just as he sought Paul out. Both these men were taken aback by true encounters with the living Christ. And while they were trying to make themselves righteous by human standards, God reminded them that Christ had already made them righteous by heavenly standards.

But it doesn’t stop with one experience. Paul didn’t become a perfect Christian on the road to Damascus. And John Wesley didn’t become a perfect Christian on Aldersgate Street, where his heart was strangely warmed. For these men, their “conversion” was the beginning of a beautiful relationship with God. It was the beginning of a continuous process that Paul calls “pressing on toward the heavenly goal” and Wesley calls “striving toward perfection.” Both these men realized that a righteous life is a life full of continual conversion experiences. That is, a life of righteousness is a life of continually drawing closer to God as we let God sanctify us. It is a life where we let God knock us on our butt or strangely warm our heart so that we can experience afresh and anew what life in the Spirit really feels like. Being righteous is recognizing that Christ’s sacrifice on the cross has already made us more righteous than any of our silly religious laws can make us righteous.

As you come to the altar this morning to receive the Lord’s Supper, I hope that you’ll do so not because you think that this act will make you righteous. Instead, I hope and pray that you will come to the table because you know that Christ has already made you righteous, and that Christ seeks you so that he can knock you off your feet, warm your heart, and perfect you in the way of truth. We gather around the Lord’s table not to celebrate not our human righteousness, but the righteousness in faith that Christ offers to all. In the name of the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, Amen.

World Communion Sunday

This Sunday is World Communion Sunday. That means our church will celebrate, along with other churches around the world, the interconnectedness of Christ's church. We will commune in our small town church as one body, but we will also commune with our brothers and sisters around the world, figuratively gathering around one table, breaking one loaf, and drinking from one cup of blessing. In honor of World Communion Sunday, I have decorated the altar with items from many countries around the world. These are all items that Lisa or I have obtained from our own travels or the travels of our friends and family. I also have multiple lapel pins representing countries from around the world -- most of them from my childhood journeys through Disney World's Epcot Center -- that I plan to wear pinned to my robe. Finally, I will use the modified liturgy found in the UM Book of Worship that was written for just such an occasion.

Our church only celebrates the sacrament of the Lord's Supper about 3-4 times a year, but I would love to move us toward more frequent communion, as per Wesley's and the UMC's request. Since we're not there yet, this Sunday will be only the second time I will preside over communion. Those who know me won't be surprised to hear that I have been eagerly anticipating this Sunday's service. All week, I've been walking around with an extra bounce in my step. The mere prospect of a communion Sunday is enough to lift my spirits for an entire week! But what is it about communion that gets me going?

Maybe it's the beauty and comfort of the communion liturgy, which has remained relatively unchanged for almost two milennia. Maybe it's the multiple meanings that communion holds for us as Christians: thanksgiving, community, remembrance of Christ's mighty acts, sacrifice, life-giving action of the Holy Spirit, and hope for the coming of Christ's kingdom. Maybe it's the chance to preside over such a sacred act in the life of the church, serving the body and blood of Christ to the body of Christ as its members kneel at the throne of grace. More than likely, it's all of these things.

The last reason, the responsibility and authority that has been bestowed on me to preside, has tremendous meaning for me as a pastor. Not just anyone can preside over the Lord's Supper, which at times seems harsh, but reminds us of the nature of clergy as "set apart." By "set apart", I do not mean this to be elitist or self-righteous, but humbly called by God to do the work of the church, including the administering of sacraments. Presiding over the table reminds me of my own call to ordained ministry. It humbles me because I know that I am terribly unqualified to serve in this capacity. It brings me to tears because in the moment of administering this sacrament, I feel more sure than at any other moment that I am called by God to dedicate my life to ordained ministry in the United Methodist Church.

For everyone, communion is meant to be an uplifting event in the life of the church. It reminds us of why we believe what we do, it centers us on the meaning of Christ's life and actions, and it connects us with the God who unites us all. It gives us a purpose for living, a purpose for loving, a purpose for serving. If we allow it, the sacrament of the Lord's Supper will provide us with an extra bounce in our step for a few weeks, days, hours, maybe even just minutes. May this be so in your life on this Sunday morning as we remember that "we, though many, throughout the earth, we are one body in this one, Lord."