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At a meeting of the American Psychological Association, a presentation was made on how members of the various sections of 11 major symphony orchestras perceived each other. The percussionists were viewed as insensitive, unintelligent, and hard-of-hearing, yet fun-loving. String players were seen as arrogant, stuffy, and unathletic. The orchestra members overwhelmingly chose "loud" as the primary adjective to describe the brass players. Woodwind players seemed to be held in the highest esteem, described as quiet and meticulous, though a bit egotistical. Interesting findings, to say the least! With such widely divergent personalities and perceptions, how could an orchestra ever come together to make such wonderful music? The answer is simple: regardless of how those musicians view each other, they put their feelings aside and submit to the leadership of the conductor. Under his guidance, they play beautiful music.
If the church is an orchestra, then the conductor is Christ. Or to use language we explored last week, if the church is a body, then the Head, the “brain,” if you will, is Jesus. Through baptism, repentance, and faith, you are connected to Someone who is literally out to save the world. You and I have a calling, and that calling is to play the beautiful music of the gospel for all to hear; that calling is to be the body of Christ in this community.
To answer that calling, we need help. We need direction, and we need energy. Good news! God supplies us all of those things and more through His words in the Bible.
The portion of the Bible that we’re dealing with today picks up right where last week’s Epistle reading left off. Saint Paul starts by saying: “Let love be genuine.” Let love be genuine. I think it’s safe to say that more people have been brought into the church by the kindness of Christian love than by all the theological arguments or worship styles or special programs combined. A person will get up and get ready and drive all the way across town, past who knows how many other churches, if they know that they will be loved at the church to which they’re going. Genuine love is demonstrated within this body not just by what we say, but by what we do. When there is a need, genuine love does something to help. You can take the pulse of any plan, any activity, by saying, “How does this plan or activity make God’s love for His creation obvious and unavoidable?” Are you doing what you do with love as the motive?
In verse ten, Paul continues, “Outdo one another in showing honor.” How are we doing when it comes to showing honor and respect to one another? According to the journal U.S. News and World Report, 89 % of Americans think that incivility, rudeness, and a general lack of respect is a serious problem. Now listen to these statistics. 73 % think mean-spirited political campaigns are to blame; 52% think talk radio is to blame; and 1% thinks their own behavior is to blame. Something doesn’t quite add up.
The fact is, thanks to sin, it is not natural for me to think about someone else’s needs before my own. It is not natural for me to set aside my own desire to be honored; it may not be natural, but it can be done, through the forgiving power of Jesus. We must never forget that Jesus, second person of the majestic Trinity, came into this world to kneel down and serve. The King of Creation became its slave. Our holy God was treated as a criminal and hung from a cross, punished for sins that were not his own. They were yours, and they were mine. His rising to life on the third day means many things—one of which is that his sacrifice was accepted by the Father, and now it counts for us all. And so we trust in the service Jesus performed. His service is the only thing that saves us from self-destruction and eternal punishment. And His service shows us who we become with Him inside us.
A king once organized a great race within his kingdom. All the young men of the kingdom participated. A bag of gold was to be given to the winner, and the finish line was within the courtyard of the king’s palace. The race was run, and about halfway through the contest, the runners were surprised to find a great pile of rocks and stones in the middle of the road. But they managed to scramble over it or to run around it and eventually to come to the king’s courtyard. Finally, all the runners had crossed the finish line except one. But still the king did not call the race off. After a while one lone runner came through the gate. He lifted a bleeding hand and said, "O King, I am sorry that I am so late. But you see, I found a pile of rocks and stones in the road, and it took me a while, and I wounded myself in removing them." Then he lifted the other hand, and in it was a bag. He said, "But, Great King, I found beneath the pile of rocks this bag of gold." The king said, "My son, you have won the race, for the one who makes the way safer for those who follow is the one who runs best."
There is great reward in serving, but it’s not a bag of gold. The reward in serving is fulfillment, an overwhelming sense that you are finally doing what you were born to do. You’re being a person in whom Jesus Christ has made a home. You’re making the way safer for those who follow.
And see, that’s what is going to open eyes to the reality of Jesus Christ. People will see that your values are different. They will wonder why you care more about making the way safer for others than you do about winning the race. The difference Jesus makes confuses people. It disarms them. They’re not used to it. They’re used to being used. They’re used to being lied to. They’re used to being taken advantage of. The difference Jesus makes can be a shock, when you’re not used to being loved.
For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members of one another. Having gifts that differ according to the grace given us, let us use them…Romans 12: 4—6
If you’ve ever held a baby in your arms, and looked down at that little person in astonishment, then you’ve felt the wonder of God’s creative power. The human body is a mind-blowing feat of divine engineering; its design and complexity are all you really need to make the case for a Creator. Just think about the human eye for a moment.
For an eye to be able to see, the forty basic components which make it up need to be present at the same time and work together perfectly. The lens is only one of these. If all the other components, like the cornea, iris, pupil, retina, and eye muscles are all present and functioning properly, but just the eyelid is missing, then the eye will shortly suffer serious damage and stop working. Or if all the subsystems exist but tear production stops, the eye will dry up and go blind within a few hours. The different parts need each other, and when everything works, a person has vision, without having to try. Take one part away, though, and there’s trouble.
There are a number of ways that the Bible talks about the church. One of the most profound descriptors for the church is the one that Saint Paul uses in his letter to the Roman Christians. He writes, “…we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members of one another.” You’ve probably heard that description before—we are one body in Christ, or the church is the body of Christ in the world—you’ve heard that, I’m guessing, but did it sink it? Do you believe that? Do you understand yourself as being part of something bigger than yourself? Since you are part of this body—or else you wouldn’t be here right now—do you know what your function is within this body?
Thinking of ourselves as parts of a singular body, in which we belong to and rely on each other is a challenge. It goes against the grain of how we normally like to operate, which is to say, as free agents. Our culture honors the rugged individual. Our culture cheers for the person who says, ‘right or wrong, I did it my way.’ But the culture of Christ and the Word of God take us in a much different direction. The Bible honors our individuality—we are uniquely created and adopted one by one in the waters of baptism—and yet we are never just an individual. Paul says, “…we, though many, are one body in Christ.” Because we are baptized and because we believe in Christ, we are part of something beyond ourselves. It isn’t a matter of wanting to be part of it or trying to be part of it; it just is. Paul’s words: “…we…are one body in Christ…” means that together, each one of us is playing a part in presenting Jesus Christ to our world. There are privileges that go with that. There are benefits that go with that. And there are responsibilities that go with that, which is where Paul is going when he writes, “…we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another.”
Do you see where he’s going with that? A finger is no good without a hand. A hand is no good without an arm. An arm by itself won’t get anywhere without a shoulder, and so on. The parts of the body need each other. The parts of the body of Christ need each other. When one part hurts, the whole body hurts with it. When a part is in good shape, it helps the other parts along. We are those parts! God’s Word calls you today to embrace being a member of the body of Christ—to make that central to who you are. Why would somebody do that? Because not only can you gain support and help from being part of that body, but you gain a purpose. You gain a mission. You need this. You need to feel that your life has value and meaning. Being a member of Christ’s body provides that in a way nothing else can. Being a member of Christ’s body attaches you to the actions and activity of Jesus Christ. What does that mean? It means this: Jesus came to save people from hell and redeem His creation. As a member of the body of Christ, you’re an agent of that salvation; you’re a conduit of forgiveness and love that comes from Christ Himself. You are! You really are! Paul says it. We are one body in Christ. Do you realize it? Do you embrace it? Do you live it?
Saint Paul tells us how to live it. He goes on to describe what being the body means in practical terms. He writes: “Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, in proportion to our faith; if service, in our serving; the one who teaches, in his teaching; the one who exhorts, in his exhortation; the one who contributes, in generosity; the one who leads, with zeal; the one who does acts of mercy, with cheerfulness.”
Do you have the gift of prophecy? Can you tell others what God has said in the Bible? Use that gift. Do you have the gift of service? Can you gladly put the needs of others before your own? Use that gift. Do you have the gift of teaching? Can you explain the truth of God in a way that helps others understand? Use that gift. Do you have the gift of exhortation? Can you encourage and motivate others in their walk with God? Use that gift. Do you have the gift of generosity? Do you happily participate in funding the mission of the Church? Use that gift. Do you have the gift of leadership? Can you influence others to follow Jesus faithfully? Use that gift? Do you have the gift of performing acts of mercy? Then use that gift.
The latest issue of Reader’s Digest tells the story of a girl named Piper Breinholt, who was born with cerebro-costo-mandibular syndrome, a genetic disorder that affects the ribs and jaw and other parts of the body. It was a miracle that Piper survived birth. She is now four years old, and she has never spent a day at home, and probably never will. As you can imagine, financial concerns loom large with this family, and yet in reading their story, it is clear that Piper’s parents will do whatever is necessary to provide the best care for their daughter.
We meet a mom like that in today’s Gospel reading. Her daughter has a horrible affliction as well. I think many of us can identify with a parent who is willing to do whatever it takes to get help for their child. And this mom has an excellent idea. She is going to turn to Jesus for help.
Now, a couple details about this mom. She is a Canaanite, and the Canaanites were ancient enemies of the Israelites. She is as far from being part of the “in” crowd as you can get. And yet somewhere along the way she has heard about this Jesus, and she’s heard enough to believe that He can help her daughter. What’s more, she’s heard enough that when she finally comes face to face with Jesus, she addresses Him as “Lord, Son of David.” That means she is linking Jesus to the prophecies about the coming Messiah. In other words, she gets it. She “gets” who Jesus is, and she believes that He has the power to help her. She believes that Jesus is for everyone, even Canaanite women. But is He?
At first, quite frankly, it’s hard to tell. His disciples try to get rid of her. Her persistence is causing a commotion and is making them feel uncomfortable; besides, she is not part of their race or religion, so they plead with Jesus to make her go away. But this mom keeps it up. She follows them around. She’s making a scene, and she’s making it for the sake of her daughter, and she’s not letting go of this because she knows who Jesus is and what He can do. What she has heard about Jesus and what she knows deep down is that He is for everyone, even Cannanite women and their children. But is He really?
The disciples wish she would just go away. And after Jesus seems to ignore her for a while, this is what he says: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.” This is a decisive moment, a moment at which some might’ve given up hope. But there is something propelling this mom forward. Abandoning all pride, she throws herself to the ground and kneels before Jesus, pleading, “Lord, help me.” And if I were a screenwriter, this is the point where the music would swell, and a ray of light would break through the clouds, and Jesus would take this woman by the hand and make everything better.
But instead, Jesus says something shocking. He says that it is not right to take the food meant for the children and throw it to the dogs. Now if Jesus was a pastor and he said this to a parishioner, His name would be on a bunch of call lists the next day. If the Canaanite woman was the easily offended type, she would have all the ammunition she needed right here to go into a full-scale rant. But here’s the thing; and this is what I hope you walk away with today having met this woman in Matthew’s gospel: She knows it’s not about her. She’s not coming to Jesus with the attitude that He owes her something. Look at what she says! She says to Jesus, “I would be happy with your scraps. Jesus, the crumbs from your table would be enough for me.”
It’s at this point that Jesus releases the tension. It’s the disciples’ turn to be shocked, as their Teacher praises the woman for her great faith and grants her request, healing her daughter at once. This whole exchange between the Canaanite woman and Jesus actually boomerangs back on His disciples. Without having to say anything to them directly, the message was sent: “I am for everyone, even Canaanite women. I am for everyone who believes in Me and what I can do. It’s not about gender, it’s not about race, it’s not about class or social status, it’s about faith in Me. Do you have it? It’s the only thing that matters.” I wonder if we have really taken this element of Jesus’ kingdom message to heart.
But back to this Canaanite mom; there’s two things that we can learn from her that I don’t want you to miss. The first, and I touched on this before, is that when she came to Jesus, she based her appeal not on who she was but on who Jesus was. Again, she didn’t come to Jesus with the attitude that He owed her something. She took a worshipper’s posture, and that’s saying it the nice way. The better way to say it is that she took a beggar’s posture. She came to Jesus with the attitude that He didn’t owe her a thing, but she knew who He was and what He could do and He didn’t have to do anything…but even just a crumb from Him would be enough to change her daughter’s life. She put all her eggs in one basket, marked “Jesus, the Son of David.” That’s what faith does.
Faith like this is a gift, and it is possible for you to have it, but there is a lot of repenting and un-learning that we need to do. Too often, we approach Jesus not on the basis of who he is but who we are. Too often, we harbor the attitude that God does owe us something, and this attitude has roots that run deep. It’s the idea that “I try to be good and do good; I go to church; I put my offering in the basket; therefore I deserve…” But do you see the foolishness in that way of thinking? Do you see the self-deception there? If we’re being honest, we’ll admit that sin still spills out of our hearts and minds and mouths. We still ruin things. We hide hateful, lustful, greedy thoughts inside and try not to let them surface, but they do. Worse yet, we rebel against God’s claim on our lives, sometimes actively, sometimes passively, but always with the core value of “I want to call the shots. I’m the captain of the ship. I want to do what I want to do.” The Bible says: That deserves serious punishment. The sobering reality is that God doesn’t owe you or me anything, and He ought to make me pay for my sins. But—but—He is merciful, and He’s not going to do that, because He did it already to Jesus on the cross. Not only is he merciful, but He is gracious, giving us good, wonderful, priceless gifts, for no other reason than He wants to. He loves us.
When Martin Luther died, it is reported that the last thing he scribbled down on a piece of paper was the sentence, “Wir sind alle pettler.” We are all beggars. I used to think that was kind of a downer, kind of a bleak outlook for the great reformer’s last words. But I have come to see that they are true. We are all beggars. God doesn’t owe us a thing. Being able to call yourself a child of God depends one hundred percent on the fact that He is merciful. When this is the foundation of your life with God, then you’ll be able to appreciate the depth of God’s generosity. You will also begin to see your relationships in a different light. Understanding and patience can develop as you move away from a “you owe me” mentality. Imagine what your most important relationships would be like if you stopped “keeping score.” I know what some of you are thinking: “Oh, no, I couldn’t do that. I’d get walked all over and taken advantage of and so on.” Well, I beg to differ. Let go of that “you owe me” mentality and you’ll finally be free: Free to forgive; free of the burden you have to lug around—that scorebook gets pretty heavy. Drop it. Be merciful.
In making her request, the Canaanite woman focused on Jesus, not herself. Now here’s the second thing I want you notice. Because she focused on Jesus, she remained persistent in her plea for help, because she believed that Jesus had the ability and power to change things. She remained persistent, she kept on coming, even when it seemed to be getting her nowhere. As we saw, Jesus did not respond to her cries immediately. Then, when He did respond, it was discouraging—at first.
If you’ve been a Christian for any amount of time at all, then you know how it feels to pray and sense no immediate change. You know what it’s like to pray for God’s help and then to have even more discouraging news come your way. When that happens, people give up or get mad, but the Canaanite mother shows us another option. Simply put, that other option is to be faithfully stubborn.
Do you understand what I mean when I say, “faithfully stubborn?” Look at that mom one more time. She’s heard what Jesus can do. She’s heard what He is like. She’d be happy with any leftover help He could provide because it came from Him. No disciple is going to get in her way. And when Jesus tests her faith with these little verbal jabs, she passes, because she is faithfully stubborn. She won’t let go of Jesus. Nothing turns her away from the thought that He is for her. In response, Jesus brings great blessing into her life. He gives what she asks; and she already has everything she needs: great faith in a great God.
What was Peter thinking? What was he thinking when he got out of that boat? I suppose we’ll never really know the answer to that question. I can remember as a child playing hide-and-seek with my father—sometimes he would pop out from some dark hiding place, scaring me half to death, but I vividly recall when he did that, running to him, not away from him. Maybe that’s what was going on inside of Peter. Maybe in his fear, his first impulse was to run to his Teacher, even though he’d be running on waves.
It isn’t that crucial for us to figure out why Peter called out “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” What is crucial is what happened next. What is crucial is that, for a few moments, it worked. Peter got out of the boat and walked on water and came to Jesus. To state the obvious, it was a scary situation. The disciples were in a boat in the dark in churning seas. Add to that scene the appearance of their teacher walking along on top of the waves—this would be more than enough to rattle anyone. But once Peter has the assurance that it really is Jesus, he hops out and goes directly to his Master and Lord. He just happens to be “going” on top of a wind-whipped lake.
Are you able to relate to that impulse? Have you ever been in a scary situation, a situation that would be enough to rattle anyone—and did you go directly to Jesus for help? Do you remember what happened when you did?
Well, we know what happened next to Peter. He had been doing the impossible. He had been stepping on the waves and it had been working, because Jesus was the focus. Getting to Jesus was the goal. But you know what happened next. Peter saw the wind. And when Peter saw the wind, he was afraid, and he began to sink. And this is precisely the point at which you and I can jump in and tread water with Peter—because we know what it means to “see the wind” and be afraid, even though Jesus is there.
It’s easy to “see the wind” when you find out your job is in jeopardy, and naturally, you fear for your family and how you will provide for them. Have you “seen the wind” at the doctor’s office, when he comes in the room and the news is not good? Have you “seen the wind” in a family that is fracturing, and breaking up before your very eyes? Have you “seen the wind” in current events—in wars and rumors of wars, natural disasters, end-times prophecies and predictions? Do you “see the wind” in a situation where there are no easy answers, and you are powerless to do anything about it? The cold wind of fear blows through our all of our lives, and when we give that wind our full attention, things get worse, not better. When we give the wind of fear our full attention, like Peter, we start to sink. If we’re giving that wind our full attention, that means we’re not giving Jesus our attention. Without Jesus, there’s only churning water, bitter wind, the fear of the unknown, and the terror of death.
Peter saw the wind, and he was afraid, and he began to sink. But Jesus was still there, and Peter remembered. Peter remembered Jesus, causing him to cry out, “Lord, save me!” And that is exactly what Jesus had come to do. He came not just to rescue Peter from drowning, but to rescue him from the storm of sin. He came not just to rescue Peter, but to do the same for you and me.
You may be “seeing the wind” right now in your life. The wind of fear may be howling, and you may feel like you’re sinking. If that’s the case, I urge you to remember Jesus. Call out to him, “Lord, save me!” That’s exactly what He has come to do. He has come not just to walk on water, but to walk up Calvary’s hill and take the punishment for your sins on the cross. Having paid for your sin in full, he walks out of the tomb on the third day—providing the greater miracle of eternal life to all who believe. In faith, we cry out, “Lord, save me!” And He does. You can walk on the water of your baptism, remembering the faith and life God gave you from the font. You can drink from the living water of Christ’s forgiveness—his blood poured into you, along with His Body at His Supper. Hear the very voice of Jesus saying to you today, “Take heart, it is I. Don’t be afraid.” A life of faith is a life of remembering. It is remembering Jesus is there, even when we see the wind. It is remembering to cry out, “Lord, save me.” “Lord, have mercy.” “Lord, hear our prayer.” It is remembering your baptism, and remembering Jesus in Word, Bread, and Wine. “Lord, save me” is our song, it is His church’s anthem, every “hosanna” we sing is the same petition: “Save us now,” Lord Jesus.
Matthew supplies us with Jesus’ response to Peter’s desperate plea. He writes, “31Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of him, saying to him, "O you of little faith, why did you) doubt?" 32And when they got into the boat, the wind ceased. 33And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, "Truly you are the Son of God."
Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of Peter. He didn’t let Peter drown. In his justice, he probably could have. “Peter, you doubter, here’s your reward!” But none of that with Jesus. It’s all about mercy. And there in the fellowship of that little boat, with the disciples worshipping Jesus, confessing Him as God’s own Son—what do you know? The wind stopped.
In fear, we rush to Jesus. We see the wind, we’re afraid, we sink, we remember, we call out, Jesus rescues us, he restores us, we worship Him, the wind ceases. There is peace. A life of faith is a life of learning and re-learning this pattern, established on the blustery Sea of Galilee. “Lord, save me!” Amen.
Rejoice in the Lord: The Letter to the Philippians
CHAPTER FOUR: Do Not Be Anxious About Anything
Chapter Four begins with a blessing and an expression of pastoral concern. Paul urges two women to “agree in the Lord,” (literally, he calls each to his “side” that they might “have the same mind” in the Lord—see chapter 2: 2 and following).
Paul returns to the heart of his message in 4:4, “Rejoice in the Lord always, again I will say, rejoice.”
Let’s take note again that Paul’s imperative to Rejoice is a “command” to enjoy the Lord’s presence in our lives despite circumstances.
He then makes one of the greatest invitations in all of Holy Scripture. It begins in verse six.
Again we have an imperative: “Do not be anxious about anything…” (the problem)
“…but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God…” (the solution/invitation)
“And the peace of God, which surpasses (rises above) all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (the result)
What is “the peace of God?” It is not simply quietness or lack of conflict; it is the result of the process Paul talks about here. Rather than being consumed with worry or anxiety, “take it to the Lord in prayer,” remembering to be thankful, and leave your anxieties with Him, trusting Him do what it best. When one does that, Paul says, there is a wholeness that transcends (or rises above) understanding, which guards our hearts and minds in Christ, keeping us rooted in Him.
Paul continues to unfold his program for mental, emotional and spiritual health by urging us to think about good things. This is the flip side of the old saying, “Garbage in; Garbage out.” The apostle is saying, “Fill your minds with Godly things.”This is simple advice perhaps, but necessary for us to put into practice.
FOR DISCUSSION: What do you think of Paul’s invitation to “take it to the Lord in prayer?” What does it really say when we hang onto anxiety and worry? What are some steps we can take to think about true, honorable, praiseworthy things?
There is one more gem in this letter—in 4:13 Paul reveals “the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need.” What is it? In verse 11, he also mentions the virtue of contentment. Do we value contentment today? Why or why not?
Paul concludes the letter with heartfelt thanks for the support the Philippians had given him, and blesses them in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ.
