Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity

Lectionary readings: Exodus 17:1-7 and Philippians 2:1-13 and Matthew 21:23-32

We are fully six months into our experience of a global pandemic. And while, earlier in the year, we may well have hoped that we would be through this and out the other side by Christmas, it is becoming clearer that, at best, we are only a third of the way through this crisis. We have made it through the first stage, not without loss of life and considerable toll on the mental and emotional and financial resources of those of us who are still here; but now, from this weakened starting point, we need to face the next stage. And whereas we saw an initial coming together of communities, that has proved hard to sustain and has, increasingly, fractured into personal survival instincts. Indeed, we may be able to relate to the Israelites in Exodus 17, who found themselves some way into a testing time, descending into quarrelling and questioning whether Moses or God or anyone else had their welfare at heart. Alongside that, we might also note Jesus’ short parable in our reading from Matthew 21, contrasting a father and son whose initially opposed wills converge, with the father and his other son, whose wills, initially and perhaps superficially in agreement, diverge. And that is all that I want to say about those readings, before turning to the reading from Philippians 2, and focusing on the first two verses:

‘If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love, any sharing in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy, make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind.’ (Philippians 2:1-2)

It is, perhaps, worth taking a moment to set the context. Paul is writing, from prison, to the church in Philippi, a Roman colony city in Macedonia, largely populated by retired army veterans, and with an historic association to the elite Praetorium guard. Paul wants them to know that what has happened to him—being under house arrest, or, we might say, under a personal form of lockdown restrictions—has actually helped to spread the gospel, in particular among serving members of the Praetorium guard. And Paul urges the believers in Philippi to, likewise, live in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ, in the context of hardship.

In keeping with the life experience of the Philippian church, and indeed of the people in Rome with whom he is having daily conversations about the gospel, Paul employs military images. He speaks of encouragement in Christ, literally, Jesus coming alongside us and, through his actions, strengthening our courage at the very point where it is draining away. He speaks of being consoled, which, from a civilian perspective may seem soft, but, when you listen to veterans who have seen and lived through traumatic events, there is something deep there that they can testify to experiencing from one another or to be in need of experiencing and often not receiving from society at large. To encouragement and consolation, Paul adds sharing or fellowship, the sense of mutual help; along with gut-level compassion, and deep empathy for someone else’s difficult circumstances. These very ideas, I would suggest, provide motivation and underpinning for veterans’ charity organisations, and perhaps especially some of the newer ones.

But, for Paul, these things are rooted in the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Spirit.

And if we have known this encouragement, this consolation, this sharing, this compassion, this sympathy, then, Paul exhorts us, we have everything that we need in order to experience joy, to be aware of God’s favour upon our lives, whatever our circumstances. And being so aware of God’s favour, we are empowered to be channels of that favour upon the lives of others, as we live out—again, in terms readily grasped by those of a military background—a common (united) mind of service, a common love, a common identity; specifically, all centred on Christ Jesus. Or, at least, we are empowered to work towards those goals, the convergence of our lives, personally and communally, with the mind of Christ, the love of Christ, the Body of Christ.

How, then, might these verses help us, who for the main part are not veterans, face months 7-12 of pandemic? Here are some questions to reflect on, alongside Paul’s words:

[1] Through whom is Jesus coming alongside you and encouraging you at present? And, how?

[2] Conversely, what voices are causing you feelings of anxiety or enmity towards others, and how might you reduce their influence?

[3] In line with the capacity you have at the moment (which may be small, and may even be non-existent for now), how might you console someone else today? (it could be as simple as sending them a text message)

[4] How might the local church model a sense of belonging to one another for the wider community? And vice versa.

(Think in terms of concrete practices, as much as possible. These might include ways of listening to people’s different experiences, patterns of prayer, practical support or projects, advocacy, re-organising how we do what we do…think also how we might build on the community goodwill of earlier this year, rather than just attempt to recover it: what is needed now, and moving forward? Recognise that we might not be able to answer this question yet, and that answers might emerge organically in time, but also that this will not happen in a sustainable manner without regular reflection.)