Dear Readers,
I preached today for the final time before and heard the critque of Dr. Ellsworth Kalas. It has been a blessing to preach to him and with him and benefit from his wisdom.
This is a modification of the sermon I preached on November 26 at Florence First UMC. You can here that version of the sermon
here. Below, however, is the version that I preached today. I think that it is better, tighter. I would still like to work on it more. Nevertheless, I pray that it is a blessing to you.
Grace and peace,
Trav Wilson
"Decision at Philippi" - Philippians 2:5-11
Opening Chorus. He is Lord. He is Lord. He is risen from the dead and He is Lord. Every knee shall bow. Every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.
Introduction. Marcus stood in line fidgeting, even biting his nails. All he could think about was his family. He thought to himself, “If I tell the truth what would my family do without me? And, if I lie, how could they live with me?” Marcus was a self-employed, free, family man and the future was bright. Yet at this moment, he contemplated throwing it all away.
Marcus’ World. Marcus lived in a world very different from ours: in Greece nearly 2000 years ago, in a city named Philippi on the north coast of the Aegean Sea; an important city in the Roman Empire. Marcus was not so important, but his business was. He owned and operated one of the local laundries. It was a smelly business, but he made a descent living for his family. He had inherited the place from his father, a freed slave who had worked hard all his life. Marcus stood nervously in line at the temple to Caesar, where the Emperor was worshipped like a god. Everybody did it; everybody had to under the tyranny of the Roman Empire.
There wasn’t much to it. All Marcus had to do was throw a little incense on the fire before the altar in front of the idol and shout “Caesar is Lord!” Incense would ride up on the smoke and a greasy little Roman official would hand Marcus a certificate; it would allow Marcus to stay in business; it would allow him and his family to live. As the head of the household, Marcus had worshipped at Caesar’s altar every year. Why in the world would Marcus even dare think of not doing it? It’s just three words:
Caesar is Lord. It’s just a little incense. It’s just a formality.
Only this time at Caesar’s temple was different. Last Easter, Marcus and his whole household were baptized in a little river to the west of the city. They were born anew as followers of a new Lord: Jesus Christ. In worship, Christians did not shout
Caesar is Lord. They sang
Christ is Lord. They woke before dawn each Sunday morning and by the light of the stars, sometimes the moon they met beyond the city on the top of a grassy hill facing east. As dawn came, they sang a hymn to Christ. Do you know the hymn that Marcus and the early Christians sang then? It may have been this one: the book of Philippians 2:5-11.
Scripture. 5 Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, 6 who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, 7 but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, 8 he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death — even death on a cross. 9 Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, 10 so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 11 and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.
Decision at Philippi. This song made Marcus tremble. Marcus knew what he was expected to say at Caesar’s altar. But he also knew to who he had given his life. He was fearful that all that he owned, and all the he loved, perhaps even his very life would be taken away.
Marcus thought about his friend Julius who refused to worship Caesar. His business was taken away. Only the charity of the Christians kept his family alive now. Another Christian named Antonius went to worship Caesar, but did not shout Caesar is Lord. When Antonius arrived at the altar he actually shouted Christ is Lord right in front of that greasy official. They never saw Antonius again.
The person right in front of Marcus shouted “Caesar is Lord!” A bell toned. The greasy official bawled, “Next.” Marcus dragged his heels forward, almost stumbling to the altar. He took a pinch of incense between his fingers. And then he stopped. Would he do it? A centurion stepped forward. The greasy official stared. People in line behind him wondered what was taking so long. His hands were trembling. Would he do it? Would he betray Christ and worship an idol? Or would he betray Caesar and risk a terrible fate? This was Marcus’ decision at Philippi: who will be the Lord of my life?
The Question. Today is a special Sunday in the church calendar. It’s called Christ the King Sunday. We declare that all the time even in our songs. You remember that old hymn,
I Wonder As I Wonder: “If Jesus would have wanted for any wee thing, a star in the sky, or a bird on the wing; or all of God's angels in heaven to sing, he surely could have had it, he could have had it, cause he [is] the king.” Christ the King is the Sunday before the beginning of Advent, those special weeks when we spiritually prepare to remember the birth of our Lord. Before we start to remember the birth of baby Jesus, we remember what he would grow up to be: our savior and our lord. So it is appropriate that we talk about Christ’s lordship today.
Friends, the question I have for you for you to ponder in the coming week is the exact same question that Marcus faced. Who will be the Lord of your life? So many of us know that Jesus Christ is our savior, but do we that he is our Lord? I don’t ask this question as a man who has it all figured out. I ask this question as a brother and friend on the journey. With your words and deeds, do you proclaim that Jesus Christ is Lord?
Yet when we say Jesus Christ is Lord it is such a strange thing for Americans. What do Americans know of having a lord? Usually our only connection to lords is tabloid coverage of the British royal family. Americans don’t have lords; we overthrow lords. That’s what Fourth of July is all about. We, the people, are a lord unto ourselves. In many ways, that is a blessing beyond belief for which many people have given their lives. In a few other ways, it can be a burden when teaching the place that Jesus Christ should have in our hearts. He is savior, but he is also Lord. Our problem is this: the saying “Jesus is Lord” was a response to Roman Emperor worship, to the worship of the man Caesar as a god. The trouble is for people today, there is no Caesar, yet all people still need to grasp the place that Jesus should have in each our lives. So today when we say that “Jesus is Lord” what do we mean?
Christ the King. This is a very broad topic, but there is one idea that we can share together today. I submit to you that when we say Jesus Christ is Lord we are not talking about politics or crowns or scepters; we are talking about what is going on in our lives and in our relationships with other people and with God. Do our lives say that God is in control? That our agendas don’t matter anymore? When you say that “Jesus is Lord” you mean nothing less than that you are actively allowing God to work in you, transforming you.
Frankly, the worst thing that I could do now is to give you ten easy steps for making Jesus your lord. As George Hunter says, being a Christian is like falling in love. One does not decide to fall in love, one usually falls in love and then figures out what to do about it and how to live it out. That’s why long term relationships involve work. All the very faithful people who have gone before us agree that Christ’s lordship must be actively sought: in prayer, in studying the scriptures, in connecting with other Christians for encouragement, and in performing acts of charity and justice. Again, I don’t make these statements as a man who has it all figured out. I am only a brother and friend on the journey.
What I can give you today are two litmus tests, so to speak, of what it looks like when Jesus Christ is lord of your life. The first is litmus test is one’s patience. The second is one is joy. Think back to our scripture this morning: “being found in human form, [Christ] he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death — even death on a cross.” How can one have true humility without joy; true obedience without patience? If Christ was sad, even resentful about coming to us in the flesh, then would that really be humility or some form of sacrificial self-pity? “Oh, woe is me, I’ve got to incarnate today and save humanity.” No! There was joy is the heart of Christ to live, to teach, to die and to be raised for us.
If Christ was obedient, but impatient is that really obedience? What if Jesus was impatient with his disciples? I know that he was exasperated at times, but I’m talking about real impatience. Have you seen the movie A Christmas Story? What is Jesus was like the Evil Elf in that movie, dragging a terrified Ralphie up the stairs to see Santa Claus, “Quit dragging your feet! Come on!” And then spinning him around to a divine, “Ho! Ho! Ho!” No. Jesus was had sorrow, but was full of joy; he was exasperated but patient. So should we who follow him.
Christ Our Patience. If Jesus Christ is lord of your life, how is your patience? You can tell a lot about a person by how they treat people who serve them. How do you treat the wait staff in restaurants? I go to restaurants on Sundays sometimes and I see church people and they say some of the most inhuman things to waiters and waitresses; smarting off, calling them awful names, questioning their parentage. Patience is a litmus test for the lordship of Christ.
I struggle with patience a very great deal. I can be so very impatient. It shows up particularly well in my driving; deep inside me is an inner speed-demon who is constantly whispering in my ear: accidents are caused by the slow people. Those close to me can tell innumerable stories of shock and awe and fear about my driving, but did grant me a break-through but in another area of patience. I was in a church meeting at Surin Thai Restaurant in Huntsville, Alabama. I had my little suit on with my little tie. I looked like a preacher. I was making some point and just then a waiter came by and dumped a whole bowl of steaming hot coconut soup on me. It hurt: scalding chicken stock and coconut milk, white hot tofu; face, chest, lap. Splash!
Now, before I became a Christian, in some cases even after I became a Christian, I would have stood up indignantly and said several cruel things to that waiter that would have doubtless embarrassed my mother. But those feelings and thoughts come from having myself at the center, not Christ. Those feelings come from the moments where my agenda is in charge, not Christ’s. Those moments come from the times that I am Lord and not Jesus Christ.
God gave me a great gift that day: for a moment there was nothing funnier than white hot tofu on my face, chest and lap. I laughed. It was the funniest thing that I had ever experienced. As I reflected on it later, deep inside I was praising God because I knew that God was changing me. But for the grace of God, I know that I’m still the little boy who would sneak off and buy Dr. Peppers with his Sunday school offering money. But for the grace of God, I am still the guy who would have said mean things to that waiter. But for the gift of God, the Lordship of Christ. Now you can apply this to simple childish deceit and to our response to poverty, war and the entire catalogue of human crime and injustice. But for the grace of God, but for his Lordship, every drop of hell within us would stand.
Months later someone at that meeting told me that was a defining moment for her. In that moment she knew that I was not just some third-string preacher sent by some bishop in a big office in Birmingham. In that moment, she let me be her pastor. That’s powerful stuff when someone lets you be their pastor. It is a powerful thing when Jesus is Lord of our lives. That power doesn’t come without lordship. I’m not perfect. I’m still impatient. But I know that just when you seem irredeemable, deceitful even as a child, if you allow Christ to become Lord of your life, his redemptive power is not beyond you. You can realize more and more, everyday that Jesus Christ is lord of your life. Yet that day, I stood with Marcus, and by the grace of God, made the right decision. That is what the Lordship of Christ can do in your life.
Christ Our Joy. Another litmus test for Christ’s Lordship in your life is joy. When I say joy, I don’t mean the absence of suffering; I don’t mean warm-fuzzies. The forces of hell did not spare Jesus suffering, so we should not get the idea that we are going to get out of it. I am talking about the joy that comes when hot soup is dumped in your face. When I was nine I suffered through a movie called Chariots of Fire. It won best picture in 1981. In many ways, Chariots of Fire was a boring, British, sports epic. But even at nine, I could not get that movie out of my head. It got into my head and became one of my favorite movies. It was the story of Eric Liddell, the Scot who won gold in the 1924 Olympics, and later died as a missionary in China during World War II. He loved to run. He was training to be in the Olympics while still a minister in the Church of Scotland. His family felt that his athletic training was getting in the way of his ministry. In the film, his beloved sister confronts him. Eric answers her, “I feel that God made me for a purpose, for China. But he also made me fast. And when I run I feel his pleasure.” That’s the joy that I’m talking about.
One time I was in Brazil in 1994 on a short term mission trip in college. We were building a dental clinic in a camp for children who lived in the ghettos. Looking back on it there were really too many people working the site. Many of us were looking for something to do. I was eager to get something done to prove that I was worth something, this I wasn’t somehow extraneous. I was looking to serve to satisfy my own needs, not others. I ended up touching up the paint job of a little children’s carousel. I felt very proud of myself and knelt to wash my hands at a child size sink. A little boy nearby saw the nasty oil based paint on my hands. I found out later he was trying to tell me that I had a lot of paint on my hands. My Portuguese was lacking so I didn’t understand him. I did not understand him, that is, until he leaned over and started washing my hands with a little smile on his face. I was serving for my own reasons. He was serving with joy. I stood next to Marcus and made the wrong decision. The little Brazilian boy, Landerson was his name, he stood with Marcus and made the right decision.
That’s the joy that I’m talking about. I don’t want to be too Rick Warren-y or too Purpose-Driven-Life-y, but I believe with all my heart that every single person who has even been has something that God is calling them to do that can give this kind of joy. Is there a calling or a ministry that you are drawn to where you feel not your own pleasure, but God’s pleasure, God’s joy? Do you dare keep it a secret?
Let me tell you a little secret that may seem strange to you. At a certain level, I don’t really want to be a minister. I did not seek it out. I have plenty of education and experience to do other things. Deep within me I have what I call an
inner Dilbert. You know Dilbert the cartoon character? I would love to have a little Dilbert cubicle, and do little engineer-y Dilbert things, design things and build things. Real engineers get to blow things up; they call that destructive testing; I’d love to do that. But I can’t. Because I found joy; my heart trembles before I preach. The joy when I guide someone to the right answers – or even better, the right questions – is indescribable. In those moments, I feel his pleasure. Where do you find the pleasure of God? In what do you hear the cheers of heaven? There you will find a place where your joy may be complete, where your agendas fall away like forgotten dreams. There you will find a place where truly Jesus Christ is Lord.
Conclusion. We left Marcus at the altar with incense in hand. Did he shout Caesar is Lord or did he shout Christ is Lord? His decision was at Philippi nearly 2000 years ago, ours is here and now. Which will we shout? Which will you shout? Will you find your rest and patience in Him as your lord? Will you find his joy and your purpose in Him as your lord?
He is Lord. He is risen from the dead and He is Lord. Every knee shall bow. Every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord. Christ the King. Halleluiah. Amen.
Here is another view ... our snow covered cars are visible in the background.
And here is our friend Alicia's car.
Let it snow; let is snow; let it snow! 
