Christ's Example Our Imitation

This sermon is published in the Summer 2008 edition of Biblical Preaching Journal. Though I wrote it, I may very well be violating copyright law publishing it here. However, I refer to it in a later blog and wanted it present.

My apologies to BPJ. thankfully no one reads my blog.

Christ’s Example; Our Imitation

Sermon on Philippians 2:5-11

Interpretive Question: Focus on the myth or model? Scholarly consensus has identified this text as a hymn which predated Paul and which was likely to be familiar to congregation in Philippi. Paul incorporated the hymn into an ethical exhortation. To have the “same mind” (2:5) as Christ is connected to the objective of having the “same mind” (2:2) within the church. On the other hand, the hymn itself does not inherently serve as an ethical example. Rather, it narrates the journey of Christ into the world, through humble service, obedient death on the cross, and exaltation by the work of God to the glory of God. A preacher must decide where to place the emphasis. I emphasize the exemplary role this hymn plays because the letter as a whole emphasizes the relationship between the narrative of Christ and the life of the believer (1:27-30; 3:10-14, 17-21; 4:5).

What is exemplary? As the sermon tries to convey what we are meant to follow changes depending on our context. Following Christ’s example through martyrdom, interior qualities of humility and humble service are just three answers that have been given over time.

I would encourage people to look at Joseph Marchal’s helpful survey in the July 2007 Interpretation. Marchal, Joseph A. "Expecting a Hymn, Encountering an Argument: Introducing the Rhetoric of Philippians and Pauline Interpretation." Interpretation 61.3 (2007): 245-56.

Context

This sermon was preached at First Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) on April 20, 2008. It was part of an eight-week sermon series on Philippians. The next sermon in the series was “Christ’s Passion; Our Participation.” Since that sermon focused on Christ’s crucifixion, I did not emphasize that part of the Christ hymn in the sermon.

Sermon

When I was in High School, I thought I might have a future as a poet--I know, I know, most high school kids dream of being rock stars or pro athletes, I imagined being a poet. I wrote a lot of poems then, really bad ones. A poet whose poems I had encountered through The Atlantic Monthly, Andrew Hudgins, came to Hardin-Simmons University and gave a poetry reading. I went to hear Hudgins, purchased a book, and developed an appreciation that lasts to this day. He remains my favorite poet. I got up the nerve to type up some of my best poems (uh-hum) and mailed them to Andrew Hudgins for review. In April of 1989 I got a response. It was not the response I thought I would get. It was blunt and critical but not mean. He said the poetry was “Abstract, self-conscious (plus they often slide off into humor, as if to say ‘Aw shucks, I didn’t really mean what I said’), occasionally clunky, and evasive (because they don’t know how to take on the subject at hand). As a result the poems often hid behind a cloud of words, instead of presenting a clear, graspable situation.” Twenty years later--I am afraid to say--that still describes my writing. However, it was Hudgins’s advice not his critique that surprised me. I grew up at a time when adults were telling young people to express themselves, dare to be different, and be original. Ironically, non-conformity was the norm and alternative music was popular. I truly expected him to say, “Express yourself! Find your own voice! Develop your own style.” Instead, he wrote, “You should read more widely and try to imitate (for the sake of learning, not as a life goal) the poets and poems you admire the most.” Try to imitate the poets and poems you admire most. It was the first time I ever heard that imitation could be the path toward authenticity.

The Philippians also had a poem. Not that bad poem of a teenage boy but the grand poem of the Christian faith. It’s called the “Christ Hymn” in most academic literature. It starts in Philippians 2:6 and stretches to 2:11. It describes Christ’s pre-existence, his humility and obedience as a man, his death on the cross and his exaltation by the hand of God. Most scholars believe that this section of the book of Philippians was an early Christian hymn that predated Paul and that Paul was quoting this bit of poetry. Yet, Paul prefaces it with a perplexing statement—let this mind be in you.

How exactly did Paul imagine we might have the mind of Christ? For Paul, the the mind of Christ was the one mind that could unify the whole church. Paul mean it as a call to for unity. There was apparently an argument between at least Euodia and Syntyche. There were external opponents who threatened to fracture them. And other places in the letter suggest a need for unity. The means for that unity would be found in the example of Christ. If everyone sought to live according to the example Jesus set, they would be like-minded and achieve unity.

Over the years, this notion of following the example of Christ has taken different forms. Church Historian Margaret R. Miles, “Perhaps the most frequently developed traditional metaphor is Christian life as imitation of Christ” (p. 21). The name Christian indeed implies that a person is one who seeks to reflect the character of Christ in his or her own life. But what imitating Christ has meant over the centuries changes depending on time and context.

Three historic examples illustrate the changing nature of following Christ’s example. In the first three centuries of Christianity, when our faith was periodically oppressed by the Roman government the imitation of Christ was often understood as reaching its ultimate fulfillment in being executed—martyred—for the faith. A classic example is seen in one of the earliest Christian texts we have outside the New Testament entitled, The Martyrdom of Polycarp. Polycarp--the 86 year old bishop of Smyrna--was captured by the proconsul’s police squad, brought before a Roman proconsul and compelled to recant his declaration that Jesus is Lord. If he would say, “Caesar is Lord,” he could be saved. In response, Polycarp’s somewhat famous reply was, “For eighty-six years I have been his servant, and he has done me no wrong. How can I blaspheme my King who saved me?” (Lightfoot and Harmer, p. 139). So, as the account unfolds, Polycarp was first burned and then stabbed until he died. The writer gave this interpretation of the martyr’s death, “The son of God, we worship, but the martyrs we love as disciples and imitators of the Lord. . . . May we also become their partners and fellow disciples!” (p. 142). Imitation of Christ meant experiencing the “obedience unto death even death on the cross.”

Move forward a millennium and a half. Thomas á Kempis wrote one of the most popular devotional books of all time entitled, The Imitation of Christ. For Thomas the imitation of Christ was conforming one’s interior life to Christ’s interior life not an imitation of Christ’s external deeds. And so, the chief virtue in The Imitation of Christ was humility. This required an excruciating and unflinching self-examination, moral purity, and a refusal to judge other but rather to examine one’s self. For the 15^th Century lay movement fed by Kempis’s writing, the imitation of Christ focused on that part of the hymn which speaks to an interior characteristic: “he humbled himself.”

Again, move forward a couple of centuries. In 1896 Charles Sheldon wrote one of the best known books in Western Christianity—In His Steps. In His Steps describes the transformation of the members of a fictitious church—First Church of Raymond—after they commit to living by one simple axiom of imitating Christ. In their efforts to live according to Jesus’ example, they begin working with the poor, they make a sacrificial commitment to face society’s problems head on. While you may not have read the book In His Steps you are surely familiar with its most often repeated phrase and sub-title. In every situation, the exemplary characters would ask: What Would Jesus Do? If only we could require of every wearer of WWJD bracelets, ball caps and boxer shorts to actually read In His Steps. . . . For In His Steps, the imitation of Christ is embodied in this—“he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant.”

What I hope these three examples reveal is that in each generation of Christianity, sincere Christians have asked the question—what does it mean to imitate Christ’s example. And in each generation of Christianity, sincere Christians have come to different conclusions—righteous martyrdom, pure humility, faithful service to others. And now we ask—what does it mean to imitate Christ in the 21^st Century?

One thing that needs to be said in this day and age is that the question cannot be answered for everyone at the same time. The answer needs to be different on the South side of Chicago vis-a-vis the middle of the DFW Metroplex. It’s going to look and feel different when you standing in the shadow of a bombed out city compared to standing in the shadow of the Cowboy’s new stadium. The North American answers will different than the South American answers. Our setting defines both our needs and the growing edge of our discipleship.

We have to take our context as a predominantly middle-class, pre-dominantly white congregation seriously. I suspect that if we asked the question in almost one of our Sunday School classes you’d get answers fairly consistent answers about service to others and attitudes of humility. The kind of answers we inherited from the times that gave us In His Steps and the Imitation of Christ. We would concur that external service and internal humility are the characteristics we’re meant to emulate. That’s all good. Yet, we can affirm the virtues of volunteering and canned food drives, clean living and self-discipline without confronting the idolatry of the self that dominates our culture.

The hymn’s opening words say, “Though he was in the form of God, he did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited.” It is this part of the Christ hymn that matters most, I believe, in our 21^st Century Christian context. This is not imply that we had a divine pre-existence in the manner that Christ did. We are not God. But, we habitually make gods out of our culture, our experiences and indeed ourselves. Driving along the highways that bi-sect our city we witness sign after sign of a “me-first” generation—that has been with us so long it’s not rightly called a generation anymore. Though gas prices continue to climb—reminding us of the our infinite dependence on finite resources—the highways are still packed by SUV’s many of which were purchased not because the owners needed that much power but merely because we wanted that much space. On a larger scale, we can be guilty of making a god out of our economy. We America got started we needed work-ethic that enabled people to be self-sustaining. What developed is our form of capitalism which offers blessings and mobility. But it can lead to overly competitive cruelty—a dog eat dog ethic. Globally, we’re left alone on the hill after the Cold War; we are the “last remaining super-power.” We often idolatrously assume that our might makes us always right. The pulpit is not the place to be overly definitive about these issues. They need to be discussed in a context that allows give and take. And besides, I am not a gifted enough annalist of society and economy to provide specific assessments—my poetry still struggles to locate “graspable situations.” Yet, I am convicted to ask the question: What is the implication of following the one who did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited given our status in the world, our consumption of resources, and business practices? Expanding our vision and following Christ in the here and now means learning to imitate a part of the song we have for too long overlooked.

We are able to do this if we commit ourselves to renewing the question—what does it meant to imitate Christ today? That Christians ahead of us have consistently asked this question is more important than any of the answers they have given. We have inherited both the answers and the question itself. Might I suggest that rather than holding the answers at arms length and embracing the question itself, too often we have relinquished the question and deified the answers. Christ-the example we are called to imitate--did not regard equality with God God’s self as something to be held tightly. For the needs of humanity, he emptied himself, entered at a particular time and place and was humbly obedient to God. Why then should we be unwilling to relax our grip on the inferior gods we have generated?

Works Cited

Lightfoot, Joseph Barber, J. R. Harmer, and Michael William Holmes. The Apostolic Fathers. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Book House, 1989.

Miles, Margaret Ruth. Practicing Christianity : Critical Perspectives for an Embodied Spirituality. New York: Crossroad, 1988.

Sheldon, Charles Monroe. In His Steps. Uhrichsville: Barbour and Company, 1985.

Thomas á Kempis. The Imitation of Christ. Trans. George Stanhope. London: George Routledge and Sons, 1886.