Every year, at the beginning of Holy Week, we hear Paul’s Christ poetry from Philippians, and this year is no exception. We sit with the words, listening for the word of God, the word that speaks to our grief, our rage, our numbness. “Not again,” we whispered and howled on Monday, again. What does this terror do to the souls of our young ones? What does dose after dose of trauma do to them, to us? What can we do to break the pattern?
Every year, at the beginning of Holy Week, we hear Paul’s Christ poetry from Philippians. He uses poetic speech to illustrate for us the way of Jesus, a pattern of thinking and living which the church is to embody for the sake of the world. “Live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ,” Paul tells the church, “united in spirit and mind, side by side in the struggle to advance the gospel faith.”[1] Side by side in the struggle – that resonates with me this week. Side by side in the struggle to more fully embody and live the pattern of Christ.
Paul emphasizes unity, describing it as being “of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind.”[2] I have little doubt that already among Paul’s first-century audiences there were those who thought, “Oh, I’m all in favor of everybody being of the same mind, as long as we come to full accord around my mind.” I have a hunch that’s why Paul included having the same love. Unity of mind can still go hand in hand with coercion or exclusion, where they belong to our unity only if they come around to thinking the way we think. Having the same love ends such patterns of domination, because in love the focus of attention is on the other—the child, the lover, the neighbor, the stranger. The focus is on them and their need, their perspective, their hope. And so Paul urges us to do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit. “In humility regard others as better than yourselves. Look to each other’s interests and not merely your own.”[3]
Humility was not considered a virtue in Roman society. Roman culture was built, much like ours, on the pursuit of status, and it valued force and competition. You move up, and you cultivate networks of people who can help you move up even higher. You don’t look back. You press on, your eyes on the next rung of the ladder. You push hard for your interests.
We know the pattern. In 25 states, you don’t need a permit to carry a handgun—three years ago, that was the case in only 16 states. “That has been the most rapid expansion of gun rights at the state level that we have seen,” a professor specializing in firearms law said. And Tennessee may lag behind every other state in the nation in providing stable foster care, but our legislature competes at the highest level when it comes to expanding gun access.
In recent years, … the Tennessee State Legislature … [has] passed a series of measures that have weakened regulations, eliminating some permit requirements and allowing most residents to carry loaded guns in public, open or concealed, without a permit, training or special background checks.[4]
In 2021, Representative Andy Ogles, whose district includes the Covenant School, posted a Christmas photo of his family posing with assault style rifles. You’ve all seen it. Asked this past week if he regretted posting the picture, he said, “Why would I regret a photograph with my family exercising my rights to bear arms?”[5] Quick to point out “my rights,” Mr. Ogles seemed unwilling to consider the rights of children to go to school without fear for their lives and the lives of their friends and teachers.
In 2020, gunshot wounds became the leading cause of death among children and teenagers in the U.S., replacing auto accidents, which was the biggest threat to their lives for decades prior. “Firearms account for 20% of all child and teen deaths in the U.S., [including assault, suicide, and accidental shooting] compared to an average of less than 2% of child and teen deaths in similarly large and wealthy nations.”[6] It clearly isn’t life-giving when we each focus solely on “my rights,” without consideration of the needs, interests, and rights of others. “Look to each other’s interests and not merely your own,” writes Paul. “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.” Let your doing, thinking, and speaking be transformed after the pattern of Christ.
According to Paul’s poetic declarations, Jesus enjoyed the highest status imaginable: equality with God. But his life showed that he did not regard his status as something to be held onto at all costs or used to his own advantage. Jesus humbled himself. Holly Hearon observed, that
the primary contrast [in this passage] lies … between the form of God and the form of a slave. In terms of the social hierarchy of the ancient world (much alive in the world today), the contrast could not be more extreme. God is the one who reigns above all other rulers, before whom every knee in heaven and on earth and under the earth bends… In between God and slaves are many social strata, each one serving those above while also being served by those below. A slave, however, only serves.[7]
A slave only serves. Paul is not glorifying self-degradation, though, or blindly affirming societal arrangements of power and status. His point is that our salvation comes by way of love’s humble invasion of the world’s deep brokenness. Jesus came down, all the way down, nothing but the will of God on his mind, compassionate, vulnerable, and utterly faithful.
Every year, in time for Passover, the Roman governor moved his headquarters inland from Caesarea on the coast to Jerusalem. He brought along elite Roman troops to keep order and to quell any outbursts of enthusiasm that might turn into a governor’s nightmare. Lots of people were on the road before Passover. Imagine two processions approaching Jerusalem at about the same time. One a festive, happy throng of pilgrims, colorful and noisy, with small children, goats and sheep; the other a long, orderly column, rows and rows of foot soldiers, led by troops on horseback, with the governor at the front, riding high on the biggest horse in all of Judea. You hear the sound of drums, hoof beats and marching feet, the clanging of weapons and armor. You see banners flying overhead, golden eagles mounted on poles; helmets and weapons glistening in the sun. Rome knew how to project power. The ceremonial entry was a spectacle of intimidation.
Meanwhile, Jesus, who had walked all the way from Galilee to the outskirts of the city, told his disciples to go and get him a donkey. The prophet Zechariah declared, “Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”[8] But Matthew doesn’t quote the whole verse. He drops the big words “triumphant and victorious,” so all that remains is, “Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey.” This humble king, greeted by crowds of ordinary people, projects a very different kind of power from what’s on display on the other side of the city, and he certainly doesn’t carry an AR-15.
Jesus enters a city in turmoil. He rides his borrowed donkey all the way down Broadway, up to Capitol Hill, and down to city hall. He comes to bless and to heal, but also to confront and challenge us. Back in Galilee, he had said, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.”[9] We call this week ‘holy’ because Jesus’ life on earth, and particularly his final days, reveal to us the heart of reality, and it’s not self-assertion at any cost. It’s not “my rights.” It’s divine love in pursuit of true community.
In the passion narratives of the Gospels, the emphasis is on how Christ is humiliated—spat upon, tortured, mocked, and crucified. In Paul’s poem, no one does this to Jesus. Jesus chooses. Jesus humbles himself. Jesus acts. And in emptying himself of his status, he does not give up his self—no, he gives full expression to his self in his relationship with God and with us.[10] He reveals who he is. And by raising him from the dead, God gives him—the abused, tortured, mocked, and crucified non-person—the name that is above every name. We call this week holy, because the story of Jesus reveals who God is. We look to the cross and we see love that goes all the way for our liberation from the power of sin, love that goes all the way for the life of the world.
Amid the polarization in this country, we can’t see a way forward toward unity of vision. Paul urges us to cultivate patterns of thinking and living that are shaped by the humble way of Jesus. What might that look like in the days ahead?
Former Governors Phil Bredesen and Bill Haslam wrote a column in The Tennessean this past week. Both have a deep respect for the wisdom of the late U.S. Senator Howard Baker who often told people that whenever you have two sides that are hopelessly divided, the trick is to find something, even a little thing, that you can agree on, and then build from there. In their judgment,
the assault rifle issues are at an impossible impasse, but if we disengage there for now and turn our attention instead to smaller steps, doable and still useful, there are possibilities. We could start with “red flag” laws—a way to identify people with potentially dangerous mental health issues and a legal process to remove their access to firearms. … Another small step might be making gun owners take more legal responsibility for securing their weapons. Anyone, conservative or liberal, who believes in the value of personal responsibility should be able to agree that it is irresponsible to possess a dangerous weapon and not reasonably secure it from misuse by others.[11]
Those aren’t big steps, but in the current political climate, they would be significant steps in the right direction. And to encourage them, we can go back to the capitol tomorrow and show our state representatives how much we would appreciate any step of humble courage.
[1] See Philippians 1:27-30 (NRSV and REB)
[2] Philippians 2:2
[3] See Philippians 2:3-4 (NRSV and REB)
[4] https://www.nytimes.com/2023/03/29/us/nashville-gun-laws.html
[5] https://www.nytimes.com/2023/03/29/us/nashville-gun-laws.html
[6] https://www.kff.org/global-health-policy/issue-brief/child-and-teen-firearm-mortality-in-the-u-s-and-peer-countries/
[7] Holly Hearon https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/sunday-of-the-passion-palm-sunday-3/commentary-on-philippians-25-11-14
[8] Zechariah 9:9
[9] Matthew 11:29
[10] See Hearon, reference above.
[11] https://www.tennessean.com/story/opinion/contributors/2023/03/31/gun-law-reform-possible-tennessee-governors-red-flag-laws/70066151007/