On this Passion/Palm Sunday, we both celebrate the triumphal procession that was due to Jesus as the Christ, and look forward to his betrayal and death just a few days later. And so, this passage from Philippians is exactly right for our text this morning. In it, Paul is quoting an early Christian hymn, a hymn that triumphantly extols Jesus, not just for the amazing work he has done on our behalf, but also for the very essence of who he was and is.
It begins by stating a basic Christian belief, that Christ "was in the form of God." In order to understand this, we have to understand the Greek idea that all of reality exists on two levels: the basic, underlying reality of what is (morphos) and the exterior appearance of the thing (schema). For example, all apples are easily identified as apples, be they crab apples, Delicious apples, Macintoshes or Granny Smiths. Their character is "apple"; but their exteriors can be yellow, red, pink, green or striped. Even their flavors and textures are quite different from one another. But they are all apples.
Paul is saying the same thing about Jesus. Jesus may not look just like God, may not have the same outward appearance, but in his essence, Jesus was God. Even so, Jesus did not think he needed to clutch his status to himself, demanding glory and honor and the worship of heavenly beings. Rather than "exploiting" (NRSV) his situation and his privileges, he gave it all up for us. If we may put this in earthly terms, he went from riches and glory and privilege, a mansion in the best part of the suburbs, replete with servants to obey his every whim, to becoming a slave. Not only without honor and privilege, but one who must jump when his master says "jump," no matter how tired, hungry or ill he might feel.
These days, in these United States, there are a lot of people living with disappointment. People who went to college, assured by others that this was the way to attain status and a good job, find themselves without work in their field, and "overqualified" for more menial positions. There are men and women who have had good, high-paying jobs for nearly a quarter of a century who are having to be retrained for the jobs that are now available, and are discriminated against because, despite having all that experience, they are considered "too old" to hire. There are families who split because to do so will qualify the mother and children for welfare, while dad struggles to keep a roof over his own head. There are women and children who have exhausted every resource, and who now constitute the fastest growing segment of the impoverished and homeless. And when those things are happening, you and I and others like us tend to start looking over our shoulders, fearful of what the future may bring, because we know that a job at McDonald's will by no means continue the lifestyle we currently have, not to mention provide health care for our children and ourselves. It frightens us. It threatens our peace of mind.
Don't you wonder how Jesus could have done that? Given up his status to become a slave? But here it is: He emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, humbling himself to be obedient to the point of dying -- even the death reserved for terrorists and street scum.
Notice, it does not say that God demanded his death. Indeed, in John 10:17-18, Jesus is quoted as saying, "For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again. I have received this command from my Father." Jesus was not acting under compulsion. He was not satisfying some blood lust of an angry God. He came out of love for us, to lay down his life of his own accord, a ratification of the treaty God wishes to make with us. He came so we would know that we are loved more than words can say.
After all, words are easy. We have known people to say loving words while stabbing folks in the back. Men have been known to tell women they love them in order to gain sexual access to them. Parents have been known to tell their children, "This hurts me more than it hurts you," while beating them. We will say, "Love the sinner and hate the sin," and then formulate the worst punishments we can think of for those "sinners" we supposedly "love." We will insist we are not racists, and then condemn all African Americans as lazy, all Native Americans as irresponsible, and all Vietnamese Americans as overachievers. Words are easy.
When it comes right down to loving someone, nothing beats what Eliza proclaimed in My Fair Lady -- "Show me!" And so, Jesus came to show us. A free, in-home demonstration of what love can do. "Greater love has no one than this: that I lay down my life for my friends," Jesus says. And then he goes ahead and does it. He surrenders himself to the authorities, principalities and rulers, a sign of God's tremendous love for us. Isn't that amazing? In Romans, Paul comments that a person might sacrifice himself for a good person -- but for a bad person? For sinners? For me? What kind of love are we talking about here? This is the kind of love we hope families may have for each other: the mother who lays herself over her baby in a house fire they cannot escape; the father who throws himself into the lake to rescue his child from drowning; the brother who offers his own kidney for his sister. But we are all impressed when a stranger risks his life for someone else. There is no instinct to account for this, only a great, encompassing love for others. The kind of love that comes only through the Holy Spirit.
As we watch the events of Holy Week unfold, we watch in amazement. Who would offer himself to such pain for us? Who would assure his disciples of the ultimate good of what was about to happen, when he already knew they would not be able to hang in there? Who would say in advance of his own torture, "Be of good cheer"? Who would have left his own comfortable home, filled with every beautiful thing, to come and die in a forsaken corner of Palestine?
In light of all this, it is not surprising that "at the name of Jesus, every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." Amen.