Fifth Sunday of Lent, April 7, 2019
I have carved out an image for my life: husband, dad,
pastor. I hope it would be said of me, “he’s a loving husband, a devoted,
involved father, and a caring, committed pastor.” I am not those things
without fail, but that’s what I work toward.
That’s the identity I intentionally try to embody.
You have an identity too; everyone does. Maybe you
work on it consciously. Maybe you are
unaware of your identity and worldview, but you have it. You have a worldview and a carefully crafted
identity, even if you are not conscious of it.
The Apostle Paul had
this as well. Paul was a first century Christian who met Jesus in person
after the resurrection. As Paul traveled to Damascus, Jesus appeared to
him in a blinding flash of light . Paul
was a Jewish legal expert, a Pharisee, and he had in his possession arrest
papers. He was accompanied by a unit of armed guards, commissioned by
authorities from the temple in Jerusalem.
Who was Paul arresting?
Jews who claimed that Jesus had risen from the dead and was in fact the
Messiah and the Son of God. Temple authorities in 33-35AD felt this new
sect of Jesus-followers had to be crushed.
So the talented young Pharisee was given arrest powers. He was
headed to Damascus to arrest Christians.
Many he detained would end up executed, death by being pelted in the
head with rocks: stoning.
The resurrected Jesus
appeared to Paul in a light that blinded him and told him to stop persecuting
Christians and become one. Paul did.
Have you heard the phrase “a Damascus Road experience” uttered to
describe the radical change in someone’s life that comes after seeing the
light? That phrase comes from Paul’s story. He was headed to arrest Christians and then
his life took a radical u-turn.
Almost half the New
Testament books are letters Paul wrote to churches he started after he met
Jesus in that blinding light on the road to Damascus. In Philippians
3:3-6, Paul describes the identity that he had carefully crafted for
himself. Jesus brought Paul’s
intentionally built self-image crashing down.
Has Jesus wrecked your
life the way he did Paul’s?
You have your job,
family, relationships; you see yourself in terms of where you live, who you
know, the teams you cheer for, the games you play, the accomplishments and
failures of your life. Everyone of us has built a life.
I invite you to think
about if Jesus has obliterated your own identity and then remade it.
If you think that has happened, how has it happened? What’s different about you because you
have given yourself fully to Christ?
As you ponder that,
listen to Paul’s description of how his life was completely changed. He
gives 7 marks of his identity in Philippians 3:3-6. He was circumcised as a newborn, the proper
way for good Jewish males. He was a true Israelite. He knew his tribal heritage - the tribe of
Benjamin, one of the two favored southern tribes. While he spoke Greek fluently, he was a
Hebrew-speaking Jew. He wasn’t a Hellenist as Greek-speaking Jews were
derisively called, but a true Hebrew.
This circumcised, true
Israelite, Benjamite, true Hebrew was also a Pharisee. But, Paul wasn’t
just a run-of-mill Pharisee. He was a
zealous and he pointed to his persecution of the Christians as evidence of his
zeal. Finally, he states he was righteous, by which he means he kept the
law of Moses. He made mistakes, as all
humans do, but he did not fail in observing the law.
Paul believed that if he
was a good Jew it would mean he was a good person, the best possible person.
This was his life. Then he met
Jesus. “Whatever gains I had,” he writes
in verse 7, “I came to count as loss because of Christ. I regard
everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my
Lord.”
To drive the point home,
Paul then says, “I regard them (his accomplishments and the life he’s built) as
rubbish that I may gain Christ and be found in him” (3:8b). The
very heart of his life, all he worked for up to the day he met Jesus he now
counts as trash. This is what Paul said. He looked at what he
thought was the very best possible life - the life of a Jewish Pharisee, a life
in which he thrived, and when he met Jesus, he saw that life as garbage.
It’s a good life, but it’s nothing next to life in Christ.
Again, I put the
question, a question I’ve been asking myself for a long time: has Jesus
obliterated your identity and remade it? What’s different when you
and I give ourselves fully to Christ? Do
we willingly, truly say “life is not about me.
I die to self and live for my Lord, my master, Jesus?”
In the opening verses of
John chapter 12 we one who met Jesus and experienced the same kind of change as
Paul. Mary was the emotional sister in the family of Jesus’ close
friends, Mary, Martha, and their brother Lazarus. In the previous chapter, John 11, Jesus had
been away when Lazarus, whom he knew was sick, died.
Upon arrival at their
home, Martha the pragmatist, lectured Jesus and he responded meeting her where
she was, giving her resurrection theology. Then Mary confronted Jesus not
with words, but with tears. And Jesus
met her where she was. You might know
the verse because a lot of people point to it as the shortest verse in the
Bible. Jesus wept. When the
tragedy of Lazarus’ death hit the family, Jesus talked theology with Martha and
cried with Mary. And then he raised
Lazarus back to life.
The Gospel of Luke also
offers insight into this family and the relationship Jesus had with them (Luke
10:38-42). He was teaching a group of men in their home. Martha worked hard as the hostess keeping
wine in everyone’s glass and bread on the table. Mary forgot about the
work. Instead she violated convention
and sat with the men so she too could hear teach. When Marth complained, Jesus told her Mary
had chosen the better path.
Thus we come to John 12.
Jesus is again dining in their home. Again Martha works to keep him
and his disciples fed. Again, Mary forgets traditional household duties
and instead lavishes opulent, extravagant love on Jesus. She dumps a
bottle of expensive perfume all over his feet and the massages them with her
hair. John writes that the house filled
up with the smell of the perfume.
Judas complains.
The perfume could have been sold, the profits given to the poor.
His protest was a sham. The
narrator reports that Judas used to pad his own pockets from the common purse.
Jesus doesn’t call out Judas’ hypocrisy.
Instead, he commends Mary’s show of love. Whether she knows it or not, her actions
prepare him for burial. But why did she do it?
Why did Mary, who was
probably poor herself, make such a dramatic display of affection for Jesus?
Like Paul she sees who she was before she met Jesus, and who she became
after meeting him. She had been an
unmarried woman locked into her place in life in a society that assigned a
second-class status to women. Women’s value came in their performance as
wife and mother, and she was neither; in society, she had little worth. In the circle around Jesus, she was a beloved
disciple. Like Paul, she knew the
surpassing value of knowing Christ.
Do we? Our
experience as his followers is anemic if we do not. If we force our
discipleship into just one small part of our lives, it is not discipleship at
all, and we aren’t really acknowledging Jesus as Lord. If, when we look
to Him, we see Him, and then we re-order our lives, everything changes. Job; pastimes; relationship; family; it all
gets pushed aside as Jesus moves to the center.
But it doesn’t happen by
accident or happenstance. Growth does not come just by showing up at
church. Growth comes when we become
aware of the presence of the Holy Spirit in the time we spend away from church.
Work; eating out; while driving in frustrating traffic; in the public
schools; Jesus is Lord in all these places.
We recognize him and begin to grasp the surpassing value of knowing him
when we see him and submit to him in these places.
All last week, I thought
about submitting my weakness to Christ. My left knee hurts a lot and I
feel frustrated that I am not as strong as I used to be. Some guys my age
and older are runners and weightlifters and I just cannot do those things as
well I used to. In my physical weakness, I want to know Christ.
I am undisciplined -
with my appetite, with my time, with my attention to detail. I can work
on it, but I will never be admired for my self-discipline. I want to submit to Christ in this
deficiency. In my area of mental weakness, I want to know Christ.
When I get angry and
snap, usually at people I really love, I want to submit to Christ. If I
am tired or hungry, or if expectations I have aren’t met, I become a grumpy,
impatient person. In my emotional weakness, I want to know Christ.
I have a huge ego, which
parenting and pastoring has severely my bruised. I submit the ego
to Jesus. In my identity-weakness, I
want to know Christ.
In Philippians, Paul
discarded his accomplishments because he saw the worth of knowing Christ.
In 2 Corinthians, he does what I have tried to do here. He names his weakness and submits them to
Christ. Mary stepped out of the roles her culture imposed on her because
she saw the value of knowing Christ.
What needs to change in
your life so that you will see the value of knowing our Lord Jesus?
Everything in life assumes its proper place when Jesus is the at the
center of life. What do you need to give
up? From what do you need to be freed?
What obsession do you need to let go?
Paul concludes
Philippians chapter 3 by urging us, his readers, to “imitate [him]” in seeing
our past and our future in light of who we are in Christ. He says, “Our
citizenship is in Heaven.” The Lord Jesus
will “transform the body of our humiliation that [we] may be transformed to his
glory.” May we look to Jesus, see the
worth of knowing Him, and live into our Heavenly citizenship.
AMEN
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