Sunday, October 15, 2017

Proper 23

Philippians 4
Therefore, my brothers and sisters, you whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm in the Lord in this way, dear friends!
2 I plead with Euodia and I plead with Syntyche to be of the same mind in the Lord. 3 Yes, and I ask you, my true companion, help these women since they have contended at my side in the cause of the gospel, along with Clement and the rest of my co-workers, whose names are in the book of life.
4 Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! 5 Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. 6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. 9 Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.


It’s not about all the palace intrigue: who’s in and who’s out and who called who what and how many people heard it.
It’s not about Russian meddling or anything else dismissed as fake news.
It’s not about emoluments or any other obscure 18th century constitutional concept we’ve been forced to learn this year.
It’s not about 688 lies told since January 20 (as of Thursday) according to the Toronto Star.
It’s not about an utter disregard for treaties, agreements, or long-standing international obligations.
It’s not about threats and intimidation aimed at the courts, the media, other branches of government.
It’s not about the latest tweet storm or twitter tantrum.

It’s about the death of civility, and the extent to which public discourse may never recover from this era of name-calling, disrespect and the shattering of every norm that defines true leadership. Almost everything I mentioned a moment ago can be mended, reversed, or impeached. But civility, decency and ‘the better angels’ of our nature are always at risk.

Before we continue, I want to acknowledge my valiant effort not to preach about this stuff week-by-week. It has more-or-less been killing me not to address each new outrage and each new threat to us from this pulpit. In many ways, it’s a mental game: reminding myself that this is happening in another country. Recalling that preaching starts with the Bible and not the newspaper. Trying to let this place remain a sanctuary from the profane and the absurd.

The truth is that those of us who like to drink our news straight from the hose are struggling to manage the firehose that is current events in 2017. Articles have begun to appear that caution the constant news reader about the risk of anger and despair—so even the news is warning about the danger of following the news. You will forgive me then a mid-October foray into the topic I have been generally avoiding—because on this day, the Bible has something to say:

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

This is the very definition of civility, a Bible-mandated approach to the world around us. St. Paul is arguing that our first thought should be to truth, nobility, righteousness, purity, loveliness, admiration, excellence and praiseworthiness. If we’re going to meditate on anything, begin with this list—because in doing so, we enter the very mind of God.

Instead, 2017 has taken us on a tour of the opposite. Study the speeches and the tweets, the obscene post-election rallies and you have heard whatever is false, whatever is crass, whatever is wrong, whatever is impure, whatever is regrettable, anything that is poor and does not deserve praise—and we have been forced to think about these things.

So it’s easy enough to see how we got to this place. In our desire to be entertained, we allowed ‘reality-based’ programming into our homes, only to learn that some were willing to extend this crass medium to public life. As early as the summer of 2016 it was becoming obvious that there was less interest in what was being said, and more interest in how it was being said. People were being entertained. All the other ‘career politicians’ were swept away not by the failure of their ideas, but by their failure to entertain.

It’s hard not to look back to Rome and the poet Juvenal who famously said ‘that the people desire only two things—bread and circuses.’ This is the very same era in which Paul is writing. The nobility of the Roman Republic (in the mind of the poet) had been replaced by free food and the staging of ever more elaborate spectacles. And Claudius, emperor when Paul begins his missionary work, is famous for expanding the games and turning gladiators into the rock stars of the first century.

And so, this is the context in which Paul writes. The passage Sylvia shared begins with a disagreement—which is fortuitous—since it prompts Paul’s remarkable description of proper Christian thinking. Two of the leading elders of the church at Philippi have been fighting, and Paul wants them to stop.

It’s important to note that these leaders were women, something the church would downplay and ignore later. But for Paul (authentic Paul) there was nothing extraordinary for this congregation to be led by women. They were respected leaders, from the same congregation that produced the first convert in Europe, a woman named Lydia, a well-known merchant.

So Paul wants them to stop fighting, and uses an interesting turn-of-phrase to appeal to them to make peace. “Help these women,” Paul says, “since they have contended at my side in the cause of the gospel.” Scholars note that “contended at my side” is a phrase borrowed from the gladiatorial games, as in gladiators fighting side-by-side against a common foe. So although Paul is arguing for peace and civility in the community, he still can’t help himself from using a phrase from the circus that public life in the Roman empire has become.*

But it’s all good. We can assume that this conflict in the congregation was solved by Paul’s intervention, and we are left with the words he used to bring peace. These are perhaps best known:

4 Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! 5 Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. 6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

We are meant to dwell in the peace of God. Even when the world gives us conflict, we are encouraged to keep our hearts and minds in the knowledge of the love of God. This is the peace that passes all understanding, the peace that will allow us to transcend whatever strife or struggle will come. It is the way we are meant to cope.

Yes, you will say, that is all well and good, trying not to be anxious—but what about tomorrow’s paper, and this week’s census of lies, and the very dark place the world seems headed. Will Paul’s assurance be enough? Will truth, nobility, righteousness and the rest carry is through?

I think it’s important to remember that we’ve been here before. Looking back to Paul’s day, it is striking to see the parallels. Claudius was regarded as weak, leading to conflict with the senate and what would earlier have been called the republican establishment. He used the military to look more imperial, conquering Britain to strengthen his position. His infrastructure projects were meant to appeal to his base.

Despite this, Paul won. The Julio-Claudian dynasty was swept away, along with all the other emperors of Rome, but the way of gentleness described by Paul remains. We know the names and the dates of empire, but the appeal to truth, nobility, righteousness, purity, loveliness, admiration, excellence and praiseworthiness are eternal, described in a letter once and lifted up for all of time.

This the way we can save ourselves and save civility in the present age: Let your gentleness be evident to all. Guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Practice the array of virtues that will bring the peace of God. And rejoice in the Lord always.

There will be struggle. There will be conflict. There are some who will pay a steep price for the sake of the future we long to see. But through it all God will contend with us and remain at our side, seeking the good, in Jesus name, Amen.

*Hawthorne 1983:180

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