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![]() Sunday, March 4, 2007 Sermon: "United By Lent" (Communion Sunday) Scripture: Philippians 3: 17 - 4:1 Reverend Larry Gerber If it's true that you are what you eat, what does rodent stew say about you? Lent gives us a different way of looking at who we really are. Head down to South America during Lent and drop into a restaurant on a Friday night and you'll likely be confronted with a curious menu choice. In these largely Roman Catholic countries you might expect to see some kind of fish listed, given the Catholic practice of abstaining from meat on Fridays. But, no fish. In the seventeenth century, South American Catholics who found themselves in a unique environment outside the abundant fishing waters of the North Atlantic decided to petition Rome for a different dining option during these holy days ? something they longed for like Americans look forward to turkey on Thanksgiving. That dish you're enjoying on a Friday night in Caracas? Well, it does spend a lot of time in the water, it swims and dives really well, and it has webbed feet, so it's kind of like a fish ? except that it's a mammal ? a rodent, to be exact. It's a capybara, a 100-pound water-dwelling rodent of unusual size. You can imagine the folks in the Vatican scratching their heads about this request when it came in nearly four hundred years ago. They'd probably never heard of a capybara. Neither have most people outside of a visit to a zoo or some obscure nature show on Animal Planet. It's a delicacy in South America, though, so you can see why people would want to celebrate the holidays, or observe Lent, by sharing some roasted delicacy. That was a long time ago, but lately the Catholic church has had to tighten up its regulations about what can be consumed as more and more species are threatened with extinction today. In Mexico, for example, environmentalists are urging Rome to ban sea turtles from the approved Lenten list due to their endangered status. In other parts of Latin America it's a green iguana that may soon be taken off the menu, prompting the end of those annual Lenten delicacies. It's interesting to read how the natives and colonists of lands far from the center of the Christian world began to indigenize their practices and diets to suit their present surroundings. But while the forms and menus change and adapt, it's the message that remains the same. Lent reminds us that what goes into our bodies is less important than what we take into our spirits and that no matter where we find ourselves, whether dining on sea turtles in Mexico, fish in America, or capybara in Colombia, we are all part of one kingdom made possible by the sacrifice of one Lord. Lent is a time to remember who we are and whose we are. Nothing wrong with observing Lent by observing certain practices and disciplines ? even those that may involve eating water hogs. What's critical, however, is that we remember where we come from. Paul's letter to the Philippians is essentially a word of encouragement to fledgling Christians living the colonial life. In 42 B.C., about 100 years before Paul put pen to parchment, Roman generals Antony and Octavian (who became known later as Augustus, the emperor at the time of Jesus' birth) had won a great battle near Philippi during the Roman civil war, which occurred after the death of Julius Caesar. Having won the battle and with no further fighting necessary, the two generals found themselves feeding a large army which had nothing to do. Rather than risk taking that many soldiers back to Rome in the midst of a volatile political environment where loyalties could easily shift, the generals gave the soldiers the land in and around Philippi as a reward for their service, thus making it a colony of Rome. Paul himself had planted the Christian church in Philippi and understood the colonial dynamics at work. Acts 16 reveals the wonderful story of the merchant Lydia who first responded to the gospel (Acts 16:11-15) but also the conflict that Paul and Silas had with the city officials over their conversion of a local fortuneteller ? a conflict that landed them in jail, from which the two missionaries were miraculously sprung by an earthquake. Rather than take their escape, Paul and Silas refused to leave. As Roman citizens, they claimed the right to a fair trial from the officials in this Roman colony. The very mention of their Roman citizenship caused the magistrates to change their tune very quickly and the missionaries were escorted away from the prison (Acts 16:16-39). It was salvation by citizenship! When the Philippians opened this letter from Paul, they would have understood that he was indeed one of them, be they Roman citizens, Jewish converts or subjugated people. Paul was all of those at once, which made it possible for him to make the case that his example was worthy of following ? a model of purpose and perseverance (Philippians 3:12-16). While Paul's words here sound a bit self-important to our postmodern sensibilities, we have to remember the context. Paul himself is trying to imitate Christ, who is the primary model for the life of faith (2:5-11). For Paul, imitation wasn't about flattery, but about faithfulness. Apparently, though, some of the Philippians had skipped the lesson Paul was trying to teach. Rather than embrace the example of Christ, they became "enemies of the cross" through their self-indulgence, gluttony and by "setting their mind on earthly things" (3:18-19). Paul's accusation reflects a similar argument he laid out in 1 Corinthians 5-6, where members of the church held Christian beliefs but engaged in immoral practices, gorging themselves in self-indulgent lifestyles rather than following the humility and emptying spirit of Christ. By contrast, Paul reminded the faithful Philippians that their identity was not to be bound up as citizens of a sinful and self-serving world, but to remember that their "citizenship is in heaven" (3:20). To put it another way, they were colonists who were living in this place but still faithful to their homeland. That's not to say that as the faithful, we're simply slumming it here on earth, biding time until we go back to our true home in heaven far away. If we understand the context, Paul's using colonial language in a more practical and immediate way. The people in Philippi considered themselves to be Roman citizens, but they weren't necessarily looking forward to moving back to Rome someday. The generations after the original soldier-colonists settled there stayed put, but still believed they were Romans. The continuing focus of these Roman colonists was to bring Roman culture and influence into the place where they were presently living. Their citizenship was mobile and applicable wherever they happened to be. Colonists also expected that no matter where they were they could count on the protection of the emperor. When threats from barbarians or civil war were raised, help would be dispatched from the homeland with salvation assured and peace restored. The same is true for the citizen of heaven. The goal is not to eventually wind up back in the clouds somewhere, as the popular notion seems to be. Rather, as citizens, we are to colonize earth with the culture of heaven. And, as Paul said, it is from heaven that "we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ," who will ultimately defeat the powers of this world that assail us, transforming "the body of our humiliation" to conform to "the body of his glory." We don't need to fear the world, nor do we need to become citizens of it, because even the present world is "subject" to the power of God. Therefore, Paul urges the Philippians (and us) to "stand firm" and continue to live and work as citizens of God's kingdom. Lent is about opportunity. Lent gives us a significant opportunity to renew our heavenly citizenship papers no matter where we find ourselves on earth. It's a time for us to check in, put aside those tempting indigenous treats, and ask God for guidance with our own appetites. Fasting and abstinence can be helpful disciplines for doing that, but rather than just thinking about taking things away during Lent, we should be adding some as well ? like prayer and journaling, serving others intentionally, or engaging other disciplines that get us thinking beyond ourselves. We may not jump into Lent by asking for permission to eat capybara à la king, but we should be asking for new perspectives on how we might bring a bit more heavenly culture to our little corners of the world. It's not a time for splitting hairs about what we can or cannot eat, what we can or cannot do, what we must or must not give up ? although we appreciate and understand what our Catholic brothers and sisters are doing. Instead, it is more about a re-examination of what it means to be faithful in a "land" where we're essentially misplaced citizens. Lent is also an opportunity for Christians to discuss what it is that unites us rather than divides us. While we work in different denominational tribes and colonize different patches of ground, we need to recognize that we are all citizens of the same kingdom. So let's repeat what we said earlier: Lent reminds us that what goes into our bodies is less important than what we take into our spirits and that no matter where we find ourselves, whether dining on sea turtles in Mexico, fish in America, or capybara in Colombia, we are all part of one kingdom made possible by the sacrifice of one Lord. After all, as Paul reminds us, we are all looking for a Savior ? the One who was, who is, and is to come. Someday, as the communion liturgy says, we'll all be sitting down together at a great banquet table with the King as the host. Christ is the Host. He is ready to serve you. Come to the Table. Feed on His Word. Eat the bread and drink from the cup. Let us pray??.. |