Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost (proper 21): September 25, 2005.

Ezekiel 18:1-4, 25-32

Psalm 25:1-8

Philippians 2:1-13

Matthew 21:23-32

First Reading

It may be helpful to read Philippians 1:1-2:18 as one unit, a meditation on the meaning of Paul's imprisonment. Take the Greek noun kenos and its verb kenoo as a starting point. In 2:7 Paul writes about Christ: "but emptied [ekenosen third-person singular aorist] himself, taking the form of a slave." We pick up the noun in 2:16: "It is by holding fast to the word of life that I can boast on the day of Christ that I did not run in vain [kenon] or labor in vain [kenon]."

To emphasize the parallel I see, I might choose to translate "I did not run for emptiness nor labor for emptiness." I am not pushing this as a translation, but the Greek makes my point. The prototype definition for kenos is "empty," as in an empty box. "In vain" is a value judgment on the emptiness of one's endeavors. Christ emptied himself so that my life would not be empty, says Paul. In fact, because my efforts are not in vain (empty) I have joy.

If Paul's life is not empty or in vain, what fills it? Looking at chapter 1, we see: success in ministry at Philippi. Paul's imprisonment has actually helped spread the gospel ("it has become known throughout the imperial guard and ..."). Others now speak with more boldness. Paul can see his deliverance (living or dying) and declares, "I may share abundantly in your boasting in Christ Jesus." It is no little thing to look back at your life and see that it has not been kenon.

Chapter 1 served to comfort and assure his friends in Philippi that Paul is doing well and is not discouraged by his imprisonment; quite the opposite, he is encouraged and even joyful. We might think of these good outcomes Paul mentions as resume items, the kind of things a missionary might want to send back to the mission board.

In chapter 2 we sense a change. Paul becomes poetic. He is somewhat familiar with Greek poetry. In his sermon in Athens (Acts 17:28) Paul quotes the Athenian poet Aratus, "in God we live and move and have our being." 1 Corinthians 15:33, "bad company ruins good morals," may be from Menander, a comic playwright. But the beginning of the chapter may have more to do with Hebrew poetry as Paul piles on synonymous expressions--encouragement, consolation, sharing in the Spirit, compassion and sympathy--each ringing with exuberance. These are not accomplishments of the missionary task but a coming to peace within oneself, a peace Paul wishes for his audience.

Paul's imprisonment has also been a kenon that is not equal to Christ's by any stretch of the imagination. Yet this is theology bred in the bone. Imprisonment, even house arrest, is a kind of emptying (loss of freedom of movement, loss of control, maybe even despair). Even in the success his imprisonment has been, of a sort, the work is being done by others. Paul is sidelined.

Soren Kierkegaard picks up the phrase "fear and trembling" (2:12) and uses it for the title of a book. The book deals with Abraham's dilemma when God asks him to sacrifice Isaac. For Kierkegaard, at least, that story fills out Paul's meaning here. God and Abraham have something to work out. We might call it faith or obedience. Or perhaps Paul and Abraham need to work out the intersection of the two. Some commentators think that this phrase is unfit for a "justification by faith" Lutheran, but we should not forget that, in The Small Catechism, Luther explains the commandments with that memorable line "We are to fear and love God...." Indeed, Luther might very well say faith is work "with fear and trembling" leading to salvation. These words might be especially addressed to Euodia and Syntyche (4:2), good women, who are apparently quarreling.

Pastoral Reflection

The basic metaphor here is "life is a container." In Luke 8, the story of the woman with a hemorrhage, Jesus says "Someone touched me; for I noticed that the power had gone out from me." In Luke 4:1 Jesus is full of the Holy Spirit. In a woe to the scribes and Pharisees Jesus says, "you also on the outside look righteous to others, but inside you are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness" (Matt 23:28). So demons need to be cast out. The body is a container; we put things in (food, water, air), and things come out. This is nature, but those things listed above are not part of the nature of the body and so are a metaphorical extension.

In a conversation you may hear "Her life is empty since her husband died" or "He is full of himself" or "The house just seems empty since Becky went to college." The metaphor "life is a container" comes easily to us.

Paul says that Jesus emptied himself. Many commentators quickly equate these words with Christ's humility and move on. However, these words provide the preacher with an opportunity to place a box before the congregation and ask about life. When might we empty a box? There is something in the box that is precious to us that we wish to give away. Power to heal comes out of Jesus. We have more than enough, and so we give away our surplus. We have guests staying with us, so we empty a drawer to allow them space for their clothes; such is hospitality. What is in your life? What have you taken out? What are you searching for to put in?

Saint Francis took off his clothes before his father. He would go into the world naked (another kind of emptiness). He would empty his life of the meaningless so that he could fill it with the meaningful.

Jesus emptied himself, "did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited...." In taking on our humanity, Jesus emptied his closet of regal garb and dressed like us. He would not be a name dropper. He would not presume on his wealth. The number of lines of this type seem endless. What would work in your congregation? Jesus, although he was the owner's son, chose to work in the fields with the migrant labor. He would sleep in the overheated shacks and eat the simple fare and ride on the back of a truck moving from field to field. He felt the heat of the day with the sweat of his body clinging to him and the sun scorching his flesh. His limbs ached, and he could not straighten his body. His thirst seemed unquenchable. It is not the life Jesus was born to but the life he chose.

Yet, Jesus' life and death, his preaching and healing, his suffering and compassion, fill our lives. Jesus touched us, and we were healed. The power went out from him and still flows through the years. Jesus taught us not to be afraid of emptiness, because he could fill it. So Paul is in prison and full of joy.

Paul discovered that a life lived in Christ was meaningful and joyous. It might just have taken prison to give him this insight. From prison Paul says, "I did not run in vain...." How many of us can say that? GH