Sermon on Phil. 3:4b-14 | By Brad Everett|
Because we live in a fallen and sinful world it’s not a question of ‘if’ we are going to suffer, but ‘when’.
Connected with ‘when’ is the related question of ‘how’ are we going to suffer. Not ‘how’ in the sense of what sort of trial will we have to undergo, but ‘how’ in terms of in what manner are we going to endure this particular hardship. And make no mistake we will have to endure it because there is no escaping, evading or avoiding affliction—trying to do so is an exercise in futility.
This topic is addressed in various passages of Holy Scripture but for today we will consider it in terms of the passage from St. Paul’s letter to the Philippians.
St. Paul doesn’t waste a whole lot of time on the topic of suffering by way of trying to explain it let alone justify its existence. Suffering is a given, something that in this life is inevitable regardless of one’s faith and beliefs. But for those who call Jesus Christ their Lord and Saviour, it provides a unique opportunity.
Saying suffering provides an opportunity is in no way shape or form, trying to “look for the silver lining” or “making lemonade, when life gives you lemons”.
Rather, this is stating an obvious, yet difficult truth—we will all undergo pain, suffering, troubles and trials. Yet, and I hesitate to even say this, for the one who baptized into Christ, and received our Lord’s promises of forgiveness and eternal life, suffering need not be an exercise in futility, something without some purpose or meaning.
My hesitation in saying that comes from the fact that for many of us, the mere suggestion that affliction might have a purpose or meaning, almost immediately distracts our attention from Christ and causes us instead to focus on trying to decipher what good might be brought out of our trial, or it could be grounds for an argument that no possible good could come out of our pain.
Which is nothing more than evidence of our fallenness – we want answers, we want explanations—and we want them to satisfy our anguish and sooth our pain. We want answers more than we want Christ.
St. Paul describes this in terms of ‘having confidence in the flesh’, or placing our hope and trust in ourselves and our ability to manage and comprehend our circumstances.
He notes that it is something we all do—and acknowledges that perhaps he did as much or more than others. v. 5 not only was he a Jew, one of God’s chosen people, but he was born into the tribe of Benjamin (special because it was the tribe of Israel’s first king) into a family that was devout and followed God’s ways (hence the circumcision on the 8th day). When he was older, he built on this foundation, by becoming a Pharisee, not just knowledgeable about God’s law written and oral, but he fervently kept it. His zeal extended to making sure others kept this law as well, thus his persecution of the early church, who he saw as blaspheming the God he so dearly served and followed.
He had it all, a good family, a good name, gifted, knowledgeable, standing in the community and in the faith. He was, if you will, in control of his destiny—there was nothing could come his way that he would not be able to handle.
This is confidence in the flesh, this is something we all suffer from, to one degree or another. The illusion that if we can’t dictate our circumstances that at the very least we will be able to manage it in ways and means which we want.
In short trusting in ourselves rather than God.
The sad fact of this is that this confidence in the flesh, this illusion, only tends to compound our suffering and affliction, because then we are not only dealing with the primary trial (whatever that might be) we are also tormented with the painful wake-up call that we aren’t in control—and we spend time either grieving this unwelcome news, or we expend great amounts of energy trying to deny it, looking for new ways to assert our influence, and when we aren’t successful, we spend more energy we don’t have oblaming someone or something that things aren’t going the way we think they should.
St. Paul knew what this was about, beginning with his experience being struck blind and helpless by Christ on the road to Damascus, through the various afflictions and trials he endured on his missionary journeys. He knew from hard experience (which seems to be the only way we ever really learn) that he was weak, that he was not in control, that all the good things he had in life (family, learning, reputation) were nothing in the face of suffering.
Which is why he could say he considered them rubbish and loss, compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus the Lord.
Note well, who St. Paul is pointing to—Jesus Christ. He’s not offering any explanations for why suffering happens; nor is he holding out hope that you’ll feel better once this all makes sense.
He is simply holding up Christ and the power of His resurrection that brings life from death. In these verses we hear echoes of Jesus’ words in 2 Cor. 12 “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
Suffering always brings this dose of cold, hard reality—that we are not as strong as we think we are. And as unsettling as this always is, this realization should drive the Christian towards Christ. Stripped of our illusions by our circumstances, Christ stands ready to provide all we need.
We place our hope and trust not in finding a solution, managing our circumstances or discovering answers “why”, but we place our hope and trust in Christ Jesus and the promises made to us in our baptism—promises to love us, to never leave nor forsake us, promises to keep us in his grace and peace, now and unto life everlasting. And we continue to place our trust in him, daily, hourly, perhaps even minute by minute whatever is necessary.
I don’t think Paul looked for suffering or intentionally sought it out. But he and faithful believers after him saw it in a new way. Suffering is part and parcel of life in this world. But because of Jesus our risen Lord we don’t have to go through it alone nor does it have to be futile.
In our weakness we are better able to experience his great and gracious strength because having been freed of our illusions of control, our excessive pride peeled away, and our heart and hands exhausted from grasping for answers are finally at rest and open to receive from Christ.
In our moments of greatest weakness, Christ is beside us with his strength. At our moments of greatest turmoil, Christ is near us with his peace. In those times when it seems we are surrounded by nothing but death and decay, feeling our very selves will be overcome by death, Christ gives us his very life – that same life we receive weekly in Holy Communion.
In the midst of the suffering and affliction inevitable in this life, the follower of Jesus is not guaranteed answers, but instead the sure and certain promise of their Lord that we might know his love.
Pr. Brad Everett
Ascension Lutheran Church, Calgary, AB
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