LENT 3 (Year B) Evensong
Beloved, I do not consider I have made it on my own; but this one thing I do; forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus (Philippians 3.13-14)
A few years ago I got the chance to see Howard Brenton's play Paul at the National Theatre. Most notably, it is the only time I have seen something at the theatre and gone straight to the bookshop to buy the script...which I then read from cover to cover on the way home! It is a hugely challenging play, which questions the whole premise of Paul's faith, and indeed the foundational beliefs of Christianity. That challenge, I think, is good and healthy, but the most important thing about this play, for me, is the humanity of the Apostle. It seems simple and obvious enough, but I think we need to spell it out time and time again. Jesus was the Son of God. Paul was not.
Paul, like all human beings, was a tangle of contradictions, misapprehensions and mistakes - all bound up with a grasp of truth, beauty and the wonder of God. There are times when Paul's vision is too narrow, and there are times when it is without bounds. There are times when he gets it wrong - and times when he is spot on and crystal clear. I'd like to suggest that Philippians 3 is one of his more crystal moments, and you can almost touch the passion and unbounded enthusiasm with which he writes.
Traditionally the letter to the Philippians is ranked among his prison correspondance, along with Ephesians (though of dubious provenence), Colossians and Philemon (of dubious pronounciation!) Philippi was a Roman colony on the great northern east-west highway, and the church there was founded around AD50 during Paul's second missionary journey - and it is where Luke remained having travelled with Paul up to that point. Indeed Philippi was a renowned centre of medicine, and was possibly Luke's home town.
Looking closely at the letter it seems that the church there was not immune from suffering, was at times in danger of division and disagreement - and certainly Paul feels it necessary to reiterate his stand in oppsition of those who argued that to be Christian you must first become Jewish. Not mincing his words, he calls them 'the dogs who would mutilate the flesh'. There seems also to be at Philippi a tendency towards perfectionism - and v13-14 may be a direct rebuff of such an idea.
Beloved, I do not consider I have made it on my own; but one thing I do; forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly callof God in Christ Jesus.
It is easy (and very tempting) to read into Paul's words a degree of smugness. To hear him say he doesn't think he's made it on his own might make you wonder, none the less, if actually he does consider himself to have 'made it'. But the footnotes to the NRSV indicate that there is a missing 'yet'. Beloved, I do not consider I have yet made it on my own.....
A few years ago I got the chance to see Howard Brenton's play Paul at the National Theatre. Most notably, it is the only time I have seen something at the theatre and gone straight to the bookshop to buy the script...which I then read from cover to cover on the way home! It is a hugely challenging play, which questions the whole premise of Paul's faith, and indeed the foundational beliefs of Christianity. That challenge, I think, is good and healthy, but the most important thing about this play, for me, is the humanity of the Apostle. It seems simple and obvious enough, but I think we need to spell it out time and time again. Jesus was the Son of God. Paul was not.
Paul, like all human beings, was a tangle of contradictions, misapprehensions and mistakes - all bound up with a grasp of truth, beauty and the wonder of God. There are times when Paul's vision is too narrow, and there are times when it is without bounds. There are times when he gets it wrong - and times when he is spot on and crystal clear. I'd like to suggest that Philippians 3 is one of his more crystal moments, and you can almost touch the passion and unbounded enthusiasm with which he writes.
Traditionally the letter to the Philippians is ranked among his prison correspondance, along with Ephesians (though of dubious provenence), Colossians and Philemon (of dubious pronounciation!) Philippi was a Roman colony on the great northern east-west highway, and the church there was founded around AD50 during Paul's second missionary journey - and it is where Luke remained having travelled with Paul up to that point. Indeed Philippi was a renowned centre of medicine, and was possibly Luke's home town.
Looking closely at the letter it seems that the church there was not immune from suffering, was at times in danger of division and disagreement - and certainly Paul feels it necessary to reiterate his stand in oppsition of those who argued that to be Christian you must first become Jewish. Not mincing his words, he calls them 'the dogs who would mutilate the flesh'. There seems also to be at Philippi a tendency towards perfectionism - and v13-14 may be a direct rebuff of such an idea.
Beloved, I do not consider I have made it on my own; but one thing I do; forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly callof God in Christ Jesus.
It is easy (and very tempting) to read into Paul's words a degree of smugness. To hear him say he doesn't think he's made it on his own might make you wonder, none the less, if actually he does consider himself to have 'made it'. But the footnotes to the NRSV indicate that there is a missing 'yet'. Beloved, I do not consider I have yet made it on my own.....
For me, the point where Paul is spot on in this short passage is in his comprehensive and complex perception of the human condition - and I believe than comes from his own self knowledge and a true sense of humility.
There can be no perspective on life, or any attempt to understand our experience, that does not take into account the three tenses of ourselves: past, present and future. You and I carry with us our past, with its joys and sorrows, its triumphs and regrets; we carry with us certain expectations and apprehensions of the future (good and ill), as well as our own potential and desires. And all of that - experience past and future hopes - affect to some degree the way in which we approach the here and now. Past, present and future. The experience of Ebeneezer Scrooge in Dickens' A Christmas Carol is a powerful depiction of how a true awareness of our past, present and future can lead to dramatic changes and reorientation in our lives.
In that one sentence in Philippians 3, Paul covers all three tenses and recognises the implicit relationship between them - and what's more, he is able to do that without the Scrooge experience of three worlds colliding and throwing him into psychological and spiritual trauma.
Beloved, I do not consider I have yet made it on my own; but this one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.
But of course, Paul did have his 'Scrooge moment' when past, present and future met in collision - and that was his encounter with the Risen Jesus on the road to Damascus. Yet clearly the one thing which sustains and characterises his perception of himself past present and future, is his overwhelming understanding of, and reliance on the grace of God. Paul lives in the confidence that God has resolved the guilt of his past, and has removed the anxieties of his future. And it is in this hope that his experience of the present is framed. We are presented with a picture of a man in prison in Rome, facing the likelihood of execution, but at peace - in good hope and with integrity of body, mind and spirit.
We are almost midway through Lent. Lent gives us every opportunity (and perhaps too many!) to nurse and rehearse our guilt from the past. But like Paul we must also strain forward to that which lies ahead, the promised completion of God's creation in us, bringing us to wholeness and peace. It is easy enough to allow our past to inform our present. Our journey through Lent towards Holy Week and into the glorious life of Easter is intended also to focus our attention on the goal - the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus, who is our life, our forgiveness, our hope; and in whom our past, present and futures are held, cherished and secured.
There can be no perspective on life, or any attempt to understand our experience, that does not take into account the three tenses of ourselves: past, present and future. You and I carry with us our past, with its joys and sorrows, its triumphs and regrets; we carry with us certain expectations and apprehensions of the future (good and ill), as well as our own potential and desires. And all of that - experience past and future hopes - affect to some degree the way in which we approach the here and now. Past, present and future. The experience of Ebeneezer Scrooge in Dickens' A Christmas Carol is a powerful depiction of how a true awareness of our past, present and future can lead to dramatic changes and reorientation in our lives.
In that one sentence in Philippians 3, Paul covers all three tenses and recognises the implicit relationship between them - and what's more, he is able to do that without the Scrooge experience of three worlds colliding and throwing him into psychological and spiritual trauma.
Beloved, I do not consider I have yet made it on my own; but this one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.
But of course, Paul did have his 'Scrooge moment' when past, present and future met in collision - and that was his encounter with the Risen Jesus on the road to Damascus. Yet clearly the one thing which sustains and characterises his perception of himself past present and future, is his overwhelming understanding of, and reliance on the grace of God. Paul lives in the confidence that God has resolved the guilt of his past, and has removed the anxieties of his future. And it is in this hope that his experience of the present is framed. We are presented with a picture of a man in prison in Rome, facing the likelihood of execution, but at peace - in good hope and with integrity of body, mind and spirit.
We are almost midway through Lent. Lent gives us every opportunity (and perhaps too many!) to nurse and rehearse our guilt from the past. But like Paul we must also strain forward to that which lies ahead, the promised completion of God's creation in us, bringing us to wholeness and peace. It is easy enough to allow our past to inform our present. Our journey through Lent towards Holy Week and into the glorious life of Easter is intended also to focus our attention on the goal - the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus, who is our life, our forgiveness, our hope; and in whom our past, present and futures are held, cherished and secured.