Exodus
16:2-15 and Matthew 20:1-16 are
individually so very preachable, and surprisingly of one mind thematically – as
I outlined in my
blog on these from our last time around. I’ll refer you there, and I would
add that my thinking there, derived from Amy-Jill Levine’s provocative thought,
that Jesus actually meant every worker should be paid the same, feels more
confirmed the more I ponder it. And Flannery O’Connor’s musing (also in that
blog) about what is sufficient: this theme is even more important to me these
days. Our church’s theme last Fall was “Enough,” asking How much is enough?
When do we say Enough! (as in this is not of God and we won’t have it!)? and Am
I enough? All are interrelated, of course.
Philippians
1:21-30 is a text I don’t recall preaching on – but here’s a promising
angle. Paul’s “dying is gain” I can parse. My mother was so miserable leading
up to her death she longed to be liberated from her body. And I think of Thérèse
of Lisieux’s longing to die to be totally intimate with Jesus. “Living is
Christ” is tougher to parse. It’s not live for
Christ, or leaning sometimes on Christ. Living is Christ. How to get beyond the trite here?
George Hunsinger, in his new Brazos commentary, calls this “one of
the greatest declarations in all of Pauline literature, indeed in all of Holy
Scripture,” suggesting Paul has found “the pearl of great price, the treasure
hidden in the field.” Picking up on Gordon Fee’s suggestion that this is a “reflective
soliloquy” from Paul, Hunsinger lays Paul’s words side by side with Hamlet’s
famous soliloquy, “To be or not to be.” Google it or look it up: Act 3, Scene 1.
Fascinating. Both Paul and Hamlet are
weighing whether to die or live, Hamlet wanting to execute justice on the man
who killed his father, Paul for speaking out boldly against Rome for Christ.
The contrasts are telling: Hamlet is lonely, isolated, while Paul, even in
jail, enjoys a network of close relationships. Paul had been a violent man,
when he was hounding Christians; Hunsinger says “Paul then was not unlike
Hamlet now.” Paul’s hunger for violence has been “aborted by a power not his
own.” God intervened, and showed this one mercy. So Hamlet is an outraged
victim; Paul is a forgiven sinner. Hamlet agonizes over what happens if he dies
(“the dread of something after death, the undiscover’d country from whose bourn
no traveler returns”); Paul is utterly at peace, knowing the Traveler who has
returned! In short, while Hamlet is “self-absorbed,” Paul’s soul is
Christocentric. We tend toward Hamlet, don't we?
It is this Paul who urges all of us to lead
a life “worthy of the gospel.” Not being nice, or using God to help us. Certainly
not smug judgmentalism. It is a radical life of service the world will not
recognize, or will fear as too out of the box. Hunsinger again: Christians who
cannot confess that Caesar is Lord “are viewed with suspicion – not just in
high places but also in the highways and byways of local neighborhoods. They
are regarded as a potential danger to social stability and political cohesion.”
Without dinging people too hard, I think Stephen Fowl’s wry observation is on
target: “I suspect that… the common life of most churches is so inadequate to
the gospel and our disunity so debilitating that the state has nothing to fear
from us.” What might the Christian do, what might a church be about, that would
raise suspicion in a local neighborhood?
Verse 28 might be a word to us clergy: “Don’t
be intimidated by your opponents.” Would that they were out in the world, but
they often are in the church. It’s so easy to get intimidated, and to feel
vengeful or flat out lonely – like Hamlet himself.
***
If you're looking for a book to prod your thoughts for Advent, or for a study for your church people, take a look at my Why This Jubilee? Advent Reflections on the Songs of the Season. I put my best homiletical thoughts on Advent and Christmas in there!
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