Philippians 1:1-11 · Thanksgiving and Prayer
Overcoming Self
Philippians 1:1-11
Sermon
by Dennis Kastens
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Some children were choosing up sides for a game of cowboys and Indians. The first boy who was chosen by the captain of the Indian side came up and whispered to him, "Choose Cory next - he’s so great at dying!" So Cory was chosen.

As the game progressed you could see what the boy meant, for when the cowboys threw a bead on Cory and shot him, he let out a moan - no blood-curdling scream, no over-acting - just a moan. He staggered forward and pitched over on his face, twitching once or twice before he went limp to fall over the pretended cliff. For a moment the game came to a standstill as the cowboys and Indians gathered around to admire Cory’s talent for dying.

It might be unthinkable for a captain in real life to choose a man for that kind of talent - yet, Jesus confronts us with this paradox: "Whoever would save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." Jesus is interested in people who will die to self, to pride, and to the assertion of their own ego.

He isn’t talking to us here only about martyrdom or about his own Palm Sunday experience, nearly as much as he is speaking about our becoming great at dying while we are still alive. When the Apostle says, "Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus ..." he means that we should be thinking of overcoming sin, self and our own rights, and should instead be thinking about others and their well-being. Humility is to be cultivated for this purpose.

Some of you may have heard the story about George Washington, whose father died when he was ten years old. His mother had the burden of raising him from that time on. When he had finished his preliminary schooling, he wanted to go to sea. The vessel on which he was to take his journey as an apprentice seaman had docked near his home and his gear had already been brought aboard. He came to say goodbye to his mother but her eyes were full of tears, spilling over her cheeks. He looked at her, paused a moment, and turned to the man next to him saying, "Get my gear off the boat. I cannot break my mother’s heart."

A short while later his mother looked at him wonderingly and said, "George, God promises to bless those who honor their parents. I think that God must have a great blessing in store for you." Indeed, from that very time the hand of God was on George Washington in a marked way, because early in his life he had learned how to become great at dying, how to set aside his own interests, his own desires, his own self-centeredness. Out of that death to self, God could bring something of resurrection, something of new life. The Bible says, "God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble."

Such a response is in total contrast to the Pharisee in Luke 18, the well-known account of the "Publican and Sinner" which, in a sense, parallels our text. The Pharisee in that story lacked such humility! He was a proud man, thinking only of himself, his own image. His interests were all that mattered. To be sure, he may have listened to others’ interests, but he did so primarily that they might return the courtesy and listen to his! His interests were what really counted. As you look at that man and you read the words, "He prayed thus with himself," you catch something of the haughtiness and the aloneness which surrounds him. He is a man who tries to keep all others at a distance if not with hatred, jealousy and violence, then at least with cutting remarks, slander, scorn, and belittling sarcasm, just to preserve his pride. He’s the man prone to advise his doctor on medical treatment, the teacher of his children on educational methods, the city council on municipal planning, and Stouffer’s on how to prepare cuisine. He freely gives advice, because he is Mr. Know-it-all, a tiresome neighbor and a quarrelsome member of the family. The coat of arms of the man of pride may be an ulcer floating on a sea of high blood pressure. The Bible links all sins, woes and sorrows of man ultimately to pride.

And by pride we don’t primarily mean "haughtiness" (not too many have that kind of pride) but "selfishness," which is a problem all have to wrestle with until attaining the mind of Christ.

And then we have the hope of victory. From then on, even though every day there is still that struggle with selfishness, we recognize what it is, we confess it, we ask for deliverance from it, and we seek to hold it under subjection. But until Christ literally occupies our souls and through his Spirit, empowers us to grow in sanctification, I don’t think we even really see our pride.

We see it in others! And there’s not one of us who likes to hear people brag or boast about self-accomplishment. It’s very unsettling, irritating, unpleasant and upsetting to hear people blow their own horn, to talk always about their economic independence, their job promotions, their I.Q., their physical strength and prowess, as though they were the center of the universe. This is the state of affairs until Christ comes. When he arrives, we see perfect humility and what it can accomplish. In his case, perfect humility accomplished the greatest feat ever to have taken place. For by his suffering and death upon the cross, his stooping all the way down from heaven to the depths of hell to bear the penalty of our misdeeds, he made complete expiation for our sins, and not only ours, but the sins of the world.

When our life is influenced by Jesus’ humility, we no longer look out only for self and pride and vain glory. But we begin to look also at the interests of others. When a Christ-filled person prays, or sings, or gives money or time to God’s work, he does not check to see if the results will affect his own honor and recognition and glory. He is careful to speak about his successful accomplishments in such a way as not to make others around him feel inferior or defeated. Or when he comments about his personal performance, he will no longer go about saying how poorly he is doing, hoping that someone will strongly disagree and give him some praise. (Who of us does not know people like that - who fake their humility?) And above all else, a humble person will not have a touchy disposition. He will not be wearing all the nerves of his body on the skin, ever ready to take slights and offenses at the least provocation. A person in the process of overcoming pride doesn’t think of himself as being particularly important. He is patient and willing to wait his turn in the line at the grocery checkout or service station. He doesn’t have to push himself forward, at other people’s expense, in business, because he has been saved - saved from all that pushing and shoving in which our world thinks it has to engage because of its pride. He deeply recognizes his sin and his need for a Savior. As someone has said, "They who fain would serve Christ best are conscious most of wrong within." In our age, when too often the church is but a mutual congratulation society, when we are taught to need polish instead of pardon, we must be reminded that though we call sin a trifle, God calls it a tragedy! We call sin a liberty, but God calls it lawlessness. We call sin infirmity, God calls it iniquity. We call sin fascination, God calls it a fatality; and though we call sin an accident, God calls it an abomination!

When we see the depths of our degredation, we realize that our sole hope is in the only Righteous One who showed himself once and for all as our Savior. We see then, too, that the ground of Calvary is the only common meeting ground for sinners to meet their God. There we are all on the same level, as God says, "There is no difference, all have sinned and come short of the glory of God." And as St. Paul writes: "We thus judge that if one died for all, then were all dead (in sin)." Therefore, no man who has ever met God at the meeting ground of the cross can ever be proud of himself. He can never take a righteous or censorious attitude toward other people. He just can’t. He is in the same category. This is why Christ told the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector. While the Pharisee was thanking God that he was not a sinner, the tax collector acknowledged that he had no claim on God because he was. All he could plead for was mercy. Jesus said, "It was this poor sinner who went home justified." Maybe it’s time that you should place yourself in the position of the humble tax collector. Maybe it’s time to cry with Isaiah the prophet, "Woe is me for I am undone!" Maybe it’s time to join with David in his penitential psalms, or to join with St. Augustine in his Confessions. If you have joined with these individuals, have looked into the depths of your heart, you, no doubt, have been shocked and dumbfounded! But thank God! It is only when we have reached that situation and realization that we can thrill at God’s mercy and be empty enough to receive his grace. As one truly humble person has stated, "He loved me despite my ingratitude, my unworthiness, my stubborn pride, my carnal mind. He loved me and - oh mercy without measure - gave himself for me!"

Beholding our Redeemer on the cross in the Lenten season, we are to believe, with hearts freed from every doubt, that "he was wounded for our transgressions ..." The beginning and end of our faith, based on the plain biblical truth, is that Christ died for our sins, the innocent for the guilty, the eternal for the mortal, God for us! In this, "The blood of Jesus Christ, God’s son, cleanses us from all sin." And our iniquities are taken away forever. Nothing remains undone, nothing necessary for our salvation unfulfilled, not even the most insignificant part still to be accomplished. Judas could have been pardoned and restored, had his remorse given way to a true contrition! And if Jesus would have forgiven even his betrayer (had that desperate disciple sought forgiveness in faith), we too should believe that the Savior has pardon, love and peace for us also! No sin could possibly be worse than Judas’ treachery. All we need - however scarlet or bloody our iniquities may be - after deep sorrow and humility, is sincere trust in the Lord Jesus - nothing more. Indeed it is time for true humility and contrition as we appropriately rise to sing: "Cast me not away from thy presence!" Amen.

CSS Publishing Co., Inc., Once You Were Darkness, by Dennis Kastens