"Christ for the Not-Very-Needy"
Philippians 3:4b-14
A couple of years ago a guest lecturer at Austin Seminary told of an airport incident. On his way to Austin, he had a layover at an intermediate airport. As he waited for his connection, he observed a group of young evangelical Christians singing praise songs as a way of making a witness to passersby. One song particularly caught his attention. The repeated refrain went something like, "everybody needs Jesus." But the theologian wondered if that message was largely lost on this mostly affluent band of travelers. They didn't appear to be a very needy lot. Some of the travelers were heading off to vacation spots, some to visit relatives, many on business trips. Most were well equipped with cell phones, laptops and iPods. This airport crowd didn't look like people who needed much of anything. Well, in our Philippians reading, Paul speaks of the "surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord." "To know Christ" became the one great passion of Paul's life. But is it possible for us self-assured North Americans to share Paul's passion? "Everybody needs Jesus" the Christians sang, but most of those walking by never even turned their head.
Begin with an observation. Many, perhaps most, North Americans aren't attracted to religious faith because of a felt need. We North Americans—at least those of us fortunate enough to afford its benefits--have so many of our needs already met. The stewardesses at Southwest Airlines always conclude their final announcements by saying, "We know you have many choices so thanks for choosing Southwest." We have many choices about nearly every aspect of our lives. We have access to almost any information we desire. We are, as Harry Emerson Fosdick declared in the hymn he authored, "rich in things."
When I first moved to Austin, an acquaintance telling me that Austin was going to be a hard town in which to be a pastor. I think I know what he meant. There's a feeling among many of us who live in Austin that we already have it made. Why do you need Jesus when you have Barton Springs, Willie Nelson and the Texas Longhorns all in your home town? This isn't to deny that, like all people, we sometimes face hard times, devastating losses, debilitating illness. And it's not to minimize that many in our city and throughout our prosperous land do suffer desperately. But the old adage that when you have nowhere else to go, you go to your knees, simply doesn't apply to many Austinites, or, for that matter, Americans in general. On any given Sunday morning, coffee shops and bakeries are filled with healthy looking people sipping latte and reading The New York Times. For the most part, these folks don't look lost, unhappy or at the end of their rope. On your way to church, you may pass pockets of bicyclists getting ready for their morning ride. These colorfully clad cyclists give the impression that there's nothing they'd rather be doing. Face it, many of today's not-very-needy regard religious faith as something of an oddity and definitely not a necessity.
Well, in our reading today from Philippians the very interesting thing to note about Paul is that he wasn't very needy either. Paul's conversion to faith in Christ was not born of desperation. He clearly doesn't fit the common conversion stories we tend to hear today. As a child and youth, I went to my share of revivals in my home town. The testimonials tended to be variations on the same pattern. We'd hear a litany of misfortune, misdeeds and regrets-- ruined marriages, bankruptcy, heavy drinking, maybe even jail time. Having hit bottom, the person found Christ and he changed their life. While these accounts are not to be denied or treated lightly, that pattern of conversion does not fit Paul. No, Paul was doing quite well for himself in every respect. He declared in our reading today that he had more reason to be confident, inwardly self-assured, than almost anyone. His religious credentials were in order. His zeal was unsurpassed. When it came to personal conduct, civic and religious standing, morals, Paul was exemplary. Quite simply he was not one of those who come to faith in Christ out of deep depression, destitution or because of flaws discovered in oneself. In this regard, Paul is not like Martin Luther. Luther, you recall, was burdened by a guilty conscience. But Paul shows no sign of a guilty conscience. He's not like some poor soul standing with a grade of sixty-nine before a God who counts seventy as the lowest passing grade. On the contrary, when Paul evaluates his personal standing and his accomplishments, he gives himself an A-plus. As to righteousness under the law, Paul says that he is blameless. It's true that Paul became passionate about his faith in Christ, but his was not a passion born of desperation.
And the Christians to whom Paul wrote in Philippi were also a rather confident lot, even though their confidence had a different source from Paul's. They didn't share Paul's status as God's chosen people. They were not Pharisees; they were not even Jewish. But they, too, were hardly an impoverished people. Philippi was part of one of the proudest outposts of Roman civilization in the Greek world. Philippi had particularly benefited from its close ties with Rome. In particular, they knew that if they were ever in difficulties, they could call on the emperor to come from the mother city and rescue them. They prospered as part of the Roman Empire, and felt relatively secure under Roman protection. They already had a savior and a lord whose name was Caesar. So when these Philippians turned to Christ as Lord and Savior, it was not because they had no where else to turn.
To be honest, I'd never before noticed this connection between Paul, the Philippians and our own situation. That is, like Paul and the Philippians, we enjoy certain privileges, benefits and resources that provide us with a sense of self-sufficiency, what Paul calls "confidence in the flesh." Such confidence makes Paul's conversion to faith in Christ all the more surprising. It's easier to understand how a person who is stripped of everything, who has nothing left to put his faith in, would put it in Christ as a last resort. That we understand. But Paul, who enjoys a richness of life, comes to regard it as loss, even as rubbish. It's as though all the things Paul formerly valued became as nothing when compared to the surpassing value that comes through faith in Christ.
But how did this conversion come about. While we have Luke's account of Paul's conversion in Acts, here in Philippians Paul doesn't show any interest in explaining how his mind changed, only that it did change, and this change has given his life a whole new orientation.
Here's one way to picture Paul's conversion. Imagine a theater stage on which Paul's life is being played out. Paul has been acting according to a script, and he has played his part quite well. But then a curtain opens behind him revealing a much larger drama in progress. It is the drama of God's redemption of the world in Christ Jesus. All at once Paul sees that Christ is at the center of this great drama, and the plot is unfolding according to Christ's suffering, death and resurrection. The great theme of this divine drama is God's New Creation, the reconciliation of all things. Once this larger story is revealed to Paul, he willingly casts off his old role, throws done the script and leaps onto this larger stage. He has left behind one story—the story in which he, Paul, was the main character, and has thrown himself in to a new drama in which Christ is the main character and he, Paul, takes all his cues from the suffering, death and resurrection of Christ.
Those things for which he once toiled are no longer of interest. No, to know Christ and to have a part in the unfolding drama of God's redemption is the prize, the high calling which defines Paul's new life.
Well, my not-very-needy friends, we have in Paul more of a soul-mate than perhaps we realized. Like us, Paul had plenty of reasons to be satisfied, confident about his life. He didn't turn to Christ because he had nowhere else to turn. Rather by some mysterious working of God's Spirit, he was given a vision so glorious that the life he formerly lived seemed worthless. What about our lives? Yes, many of us are quite comfortable, doing pretty well. But would we cling to the pretty good at the expense of the eternally good? The pageant of God's love is still unfolding. There's a script with your name on it. Pick it up. Hold it fast. It's your new life in Christ.