Palm
Sunday A 2017
Isaiah
50; Phil 2:5-11; Matthew’s Passion
Rev.
Adam T. Trambley
April 9,
2017, St. John’s Sharon
In the reading this morning from Philippians,
Paul tells us to think like Jesus. Specifically, Paul is taking about how Jesus
was willing to empty himself of the power and privileges we imagine he had as
God to become a human being. Paul writes that 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, being born in human likeness…and
became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross. We read this passage from Philippians with
our Passion narrative today because Jesus’ entire passion and death speak of
his refusal to stay aloof in heaven, but instead to come down and do whatever
is necessary to reconcile us back to God.
I want to look particularly at the line, he
did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited. The passion has very little to do with the
qualities most associated with God, especially in the ancient world. We often think of God as all-powerful,
invincible, the head of armies of supernatural angels or other beings. We see in our gospel how Jesus refuses to
take advantage of that kind of divine power to save himself.
While he is in the garden being arrested, one
of his followers pulls out a sword and attacks a slave of the high priest. Jesus says that he could have twelve legions
of angels if he wanted them. But he
doesn’t call for them.
When he is being interrogated by the high
priest, Jesus says that they will see him on the right hand of God and coming on
the clouds of heaven. But at that
moment, Jesus doesn’t wow them with rhetorical brilliance, or perform miracles,
or do any other signs or wonders that might secure his release. He remains silent before the many accusations
made by the chief priests and by Pilate.
Later, while hanging on the cross, bystanders
mock him. They note that he did miracles
to save others, and he should be able to save himself. If he could raise Lazarus from the dead, he
should be able to get himself off the cross and heal his wounds. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t even surround himself with a happy
glow, or use some sort of divine meditation technique to remove any feelings of
pain or suffering. He doesn’t exploit
his equality with God even to feel God’s presence surrounding him in his
death. Instead he cries out, My God,
my God, why have you forsaken me. In
all things, Jesus has refused to take advantage of or exploit his status as Son
of God in order to make things easier for himself. Instead, he has given up everything, so that
when we too die, we can remain reconciled to the God of life.
Paul may be talking about something even beyond
the personal choices that Jesus is making, however. When he says that Jesus didn’t regard
equality with God as a thing to be exploited, maybe he didn’t mean only that
Jesus decided he wasn’t going to do it.
Maybe he also meant that Jesus knew that equality with God wasn’t
something that it was possible to exploit.
My colleague in North East, Pastor Carol Carlson, talks about this understanding. Maybe being God isn’t really about smiting
folks or ordering hosts of angels around.
Maybe a crucial component of being equal with God is about letting go of
anything except an all-consuming love of God and neighbor. What Paul is trying to tell us is that we
can’t possibly understand what God is really about if we don’t understand that
Jesus exhibited his equality with God by loving God enough to be obedient and
by loving us enough to die to reconcile us back to God. Maybe what makes God God is love, and that the
all-powerful, all-knowing, all-everything are just incidental
characteristics. Too often we think that
being God is all-everything, and we’re lucky that God is also love, but I think
that’s backwards. Jesus didn’t regard
equality with God as something to be exploited because equality with God is
about loving like God, and once you start taking advantage and exploiting,
you’ve stopped loving.
Think about God hanging out as Trinity before
the creation of the universe. The
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit just existing in love. Then they have a longing. They want to create a universe to love. Certainly, not having a universe would be a whole
lot less trouble. Fewer prayer requests,
no betrayal and intrigue with Lucifer, avoid the whole crucifixion piece. Nevertheless, we hear, “Let there be
light…let there be dry land and animals and birds and fish and creepy crawly
things…and let us make humanity in our image and likeness.” Out of that initial decision to love, God
ends up having to go through all kinds of other actions throughout history that
also exhibit love. We see the covenant
with Abraham, the saving of Israel through the Red Sea and bringing them the
long way into the promised land, the exile in Babylon and the rebuilding of
Jerusalem, and, most powerfully of all, the Word becoming flesh and dwelling
among us, teaching and healing, and eventually dying so he can rise again.
I think there are some parallels with parenting
here. Studies repeatedly show that parents
without children are happier. They have
fewer stresses, less financial pressure, more sleep, more freedom, and more
time for each other and themselves. Yet,
people decide to have children, and even yearn for that opportunity, sometimes
going to great lengths for fertility treatments or adoptions. As a result, they get more difficulties, more
sleepless nights, less financial stability, and more suffering, as they suffer
when their children suffer even more then when they themselves suffer. More importantly, they also develop more
love. Children, at least in my
experience, have a way of drawing love out you that you never knew you
had. They call forth willing sacrifices
that you never knew you could make. Even
if the kids do some chores now and then, there is nothing about real parenting
that involves something to be exploited.
There is only a call to ever-increasing opportunities to love.
This same attitude is exactly what we see in
the life of God as revealed in Jesus Christ.
When Jesus teaches us to call God, “Our Father,” he wants us to see God
as that incredibly loving parent. When
Jesus looks at Jerusalem and compares himself to a mother who wants to sweep
together all his beloved children and protect them, he is sharing that he sees
himself as our loving parent, as well.
We shouldn’t really be surprised by Jesus’ willingness to undergo
whatever suffering is necessary, even this extraordinary painful and horrible
death, in order to offer us reconciliation, healing and new life. This kind of love is what parents always want
to show their children. Most of us fall
short because we aren’t Jesus, but we would want to go to those lengths if
necessary. Jesus, through whom all
things came to be and in whom we live and move and have our being, exhibits
that kind of love for us because that is precisely what equality with God is
about. As God, Jesus is able to love
fully and completely, and he chooses to do just that for us through his passion,
death and resurrection.
Paul says that we should have that same mind as
Jesus, meaning we should strive to love one another as Jesus loved us. We should strive to be like God, and God is
about love. We don’t need to be parents
to have this kind of love, and, in fact, God is calling us to this kind of
amazing sacrificial love for each other even when we don’t have family or other
ties. We love one another because that
is how we become like God.
Paul ends this section by saying that God
highly exalted Jesus for his sacrifice and that every tongue should confess
that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father. Since loving is the defining characteristic
of God, then Jesus’ ultimate act of love resulted in him being exalted as God
and Lord above everything else. As we
share in Christ’s love through our own acts, we, too, grow more deeply into the
life of God and we can rest assured of a place with our Father in heaven.
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.
