WHAT MAKES SOMEONE A CHRISTIAN?

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(Philippians 3: 4b-14; John 12: 1-8)

What does it mean to call yourself a Christian? One of the biggest challenges facing the Church today is confusion as to precisely that. It was the first question I used to ask my students when they began the study of Christianity: What makes somebody a Christian? Is it enough to be born in a Christian country? Does being christened as a baby make you a Christian? Growing up in a Christian family? Going to church on Sundays? Trying to be a good person? Or is it a matter of what you believe?

There was little agreement among my students, and there’s little more among adults – not just outside the Church but within its ranks as well. And I must be sensitive in what I say, because people can get quite defensive if their views on a question like this are challenged. But when St. Paul wrote to the church in Ephesus, he was quite specific as to what it meant to him to be a Christian.

By way of background, Paul was writing to a young church whose confidence in their status as authentic Christians had been badly shaken. They’d come under fire from a group of aggressive “Judaizers”: campaigners who were trying to draw them back into the caste divisions and the legal and ritual observances of traditional Judaism. Paul’s method of defence is (predictably enough) to go on the offensive. He systematically dismisses the grounds on which these people claim to be holy. And he does so by pulling to pieces his own past life as a fine upstanding member of the religious establishment.

Let me summarise his words, and then we can look briefly at each phrase in turn: I was circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews. In regard to the law, a Pharisee. As for zeal, persecuting the church; as for righteousness based on the law, faultless.

Let’s look at each of these claims:

·      He was circumcised as an infant

(he had undergone the Jewish equivalent of baptism).

·      He was of the people of Israel and the tribe of Benjamin
(he was born into both a holy nation and an important religious clan).

·      He was a Pharisee

(Pharisees had advanced theological training and an intensely pious lifestyle).

·      As for zeal, persecuting the church; as for righteousness based on the law, faultless

(speaks for itself).

In short, Paul pigeon-holes his younger self as one of the ultimate religious elite. If anyone could ever be a holy and righteous member of God’s people based on race, nationality, family ties or religious zeal, then he was that man. But he goes on to say to savage all these claims (I am abbreviating his words here): I consider all these things…a loss compared with the supreme worth of knowing Jesus as my Lord.  In fact, I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ…not through any righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but through faith in Christ. And he goes on to describe exactly what that faith in Christ will involve: he wants not just to live like Jesus, but to experience the same kind of sufferings as Jesus, to undergo the same kind of martyr’s death as Jesus, and ultimately to experience the same resurrection from death.

This is challenging, isn’t it? Paul is using deep theological language that may be unsettling to some people. I’m not going to ask for a show of hands, but if I were to ask how many people here would be happy with a martyr’s death, I wouldn’t expect to be trampled in the rush. So let’s get one thing straight before we go any further: only a tiny minority of Christians are ever called to be actual martyrs. And the real essence of what Paul is calling for, can be summed up in one word: identification. For Paul, only one thing ultimately qualifies somebody to be called a Christian: a whole-hearted identification with Jesus – not just believing things about him, not just doing the kind of things he did, but living his life and letting him live through us, regardless of the cost.

I’m not at that point - not by a million miles. Even Paul himself found it an impossibly tall order. “Not that I’ve already obtained all this,” he admits. “I haven’t yet arrived at my goal.” But he points to what he can do and what we can all do: “One thing I do,” he says. “Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead,  I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. 

So what does this mean for us? What makes us Christian? Do we need to reject our country’s Christian heritage, our parenting, our religious life, as Paul seems to do in this passage? Certainly not. We’re not engaged, like Paul was, in bitter controversy for the soul of the infant church. We can be humbly thankful for the Christian values enshrined in our national and family history and in our churchmanship. But we don’t have to depend on those things for our sense of Christian identity. For that, Paul’s words give us a vital road map: Identifying with Jesus. Forgetting what’s behind. And pressing on towards the goal – the goal of union with Christ. That is Paul’s roadmap for living as a Christian, for calling ourselves Christian. 

Part of a teacher’s job is coaching students whose motivation is flagging. And the most important coaching question is this: Where do you want to be, what do you want to be doing, in 5 years’ time? And the follow-up questions, once they’d articulated their hopes for the future: What would you need to do to get there? What weaknesses do you need to address? What obstacles do you need to overcome now, to get to where you want to be in the future?

I wonder how St. Paul would have answered those questions. What goals do you think he would have set for himself 6 months or a year or five years ahead? What would he have seen as the steps he had to take, the obstacles he’d have to overcome? [...]

And what about you and me? That’s a more sensitive question. But could I ask you to think for a moment? (nobody’s going to ask you to share your thoughts). What would you wish for yourself a few months or years from now, particularly in relation to your spiritual life? Perhaps you’re happy with things the way they are. But I wonder if anyone here senses a hunger or thirst for something more: for a closer walk with Jesus, a deeper understanding of God’s purposes, a more prayerful or disciplined life […]

And then there are the follow-up questions: How might you get there? What might you need to do? What obstacles might you need to overcome – things or attitudes that get between you and Jesus? [...]

I’m going to leave you with those questions. But a word of reassurance before I finish: There are no right or wrong answers. Thinking back to our reading from John's Gospel, perhaps (whether male or female) you’re like Mary: someone who loves nothing better than to rest in Jesus’ presence and express their love for him. Or perhaps you’re more of a Martha, always busy, always making yourself useful in practical ways. Either way, you are who you are and who God made you to be.

But sometimes God sets us to questioning what we do, as a way of calling us on to new things. And if questions like these intrigue you, then don’t grapple with them alone. [Our pastoral team] love to have conversations about things like this, and they can help in all sorts of ways as you plan your spiritual journey in the months ahead. 

Let’s bow our heads in prayer…

WHAT IS "CHURCH"? AND WHY SUPPORT IT FINANCIALLY?

Ephesians 2:19-22

John 15:17-27

One of the things Kate and I like most about preaching here is this little book (it’s called the Lectionary) that sets out official Bible readings for each day throughout the year.

At our last church, the Lectionary was completely ignored - the Vicar simply chose readings to support the preaching themes he had chosen, and gave each sermon a bold title that left the congregation in no doubt as to where things were going – earnest titles like “Why should I give to the church?” or “What does the Bible say about money?”

It’s clearly preferable to let each book of the Bible speak for itself. And that’s where the Lectionary comes in. It stops us preachers from preaching too often on the passages we like. It stops us cherry-picking key verses that bolster our own agenda. Just as helpfully, it draw together passages that help to clarify and enrich one another, just as our lessons from John and Ephesians do today.

Of course it’s still necessary to focus on the real-life issues facing the church family. Right now there’s a pressing need for us to reflect week by week on the financial needs of the church. And sometimes the official readings are directly relevant to the issues that need to be addressed; for example, if we’re talking finance, the rich young ruler whom Jesus challenged to loosen his grip on wealth; or the widow cheerfully putting her last penny into the Temple coffers. Readings like that coming up at a time like this are a preacher’s dream.

It isn’t that easy for me this morning. Neither of today’s readings says anything directly about finance. But sometimes God’s Word speaks most powerfully when it doesn’t talk about the problems facing us, but puts our understanding of them into a larger and more illuminating context. And this morning’s readings are a case in point.

The first reading, from Ephesians, focuses not on what we should do about money, but on exactly who and what we are as the church. At the time it was written, the church was being pulled apart by cultural divisions and conflicting agendas – not unlike today – and many Christians were confused about what their membership of the church meant. And so Paul’s first priority was to help his listeners grasp what they were really part of.

What Paul wants to clarify for his listeners – and what he clarifies for us – is that we are a people who have been brought in from the cold - made part of something precious and unique and stupendous. We have been brought out of a world that is distant from God who is the source of all love and goodness; we have been brought into a kingdom in which – for all our weaknesses - God’s love reigns supreme in Christ. Paul sums it up this way: We’re no longer outsiders; we’re fellow citizens with God’s people, members of his household. We’re intimately connected with God and with one another; Paul compares us to a gigantic building that has Jesus himself as its cornerstone. In short, we’re not just a club, not just a charity, not just a self-help group. We are a holy temple, a dwelling place for the living Spirit of God. Church isn’t something we do; church is what we are.

In our second reading, Jesus himself spells out what it means to be church. And this picture is a more challenging one, because while Paul has stressed the privilege of being church, Jesus is stressing the responsibility. Jesus starts by commanding us to love one another, and the verb he uses (agapatē, for those interested) means more than just feelings of affection; it refers to the kind of practical love that Jesus himself showed when he died for humanity on the Cross of Calvary – the kind of love that makes sacrifices for others. And when Jesus goes on to warn us of the hostility that his church will experience from society at large, the implication is clear: Caring for one another won’t just be a duty – it will be the very key to the church’s survival and the very basis of its mission to the world.

And so, to summarise: 

·         Paul reassures us that we’re no longer outsiders, no longer isolated from God’s  plans and his people. We’ve been brought in from the cold,  made part of a unique and beautiful structure, one with Christ as its cornerstone, one that brings the presence of God into the very heart of human society. 

·       Jesus himself warns that our membership of the church earns the world’s hatred. But he does so in order to impress on us the importance of his opening words – our responsibility to  make loving sacrifices for one another.  

So how does this inform our attitude to stewardship? Neither passage speaks directly about money, but then neither of them really needs to. Rather, they show us that in relation to the church there can be no ‘me vs. them’. If we give to the church, we aren’t depriving ourselves, any more than when we give good things to loved ones in our own family. Because my family is an extension of who I am, indeed the fulfilment of who I am. And that’s how Jesus and Paul would wish us to see the church – as the fulfilment of who we are as individuals.

As far as money itself is concerned, everyone’s ability to contribute is different but one thing is the same for all of us: We all know what it’s like to make hard choices in our domestic spending. It may be a choice between fixing the roof or buying little Johnny a new bike. It may be between having a holiday or changing the car or replacing our worn out clothes. The difference, when we accept who and what we are as Christians, is that we factor the needs of the church family into our juggling of spending priorities. And when we pray for solutions, we must expect God to use us as part of his answer.  

Let’s bow our heads in prayer: Heavenly Father, help us to see ourselves for what we are: A body of people brought in from the cold, outsiders adopted into your household, and a beloved community that needs solidarity in the face of opposition from the world outside. Inspire us to live joyfully and generously. Enable us to see how all we are and all we possess comes from you and belongs to you. Help us as we struggle to set our spending priorities, and heal the blindness that so often makes it hard for us to put the needs of the church family on a par with our separate home lives….


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