“Spirit of Life” was preached at First Presbyterian Church of Allentown, PA on August 21, 2022. You can hear/watch this sermon here, starting at 40:35.
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Scripture Text:
Philippians1:20-30
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A few months ago,
in the Easter series, our congregation practiced joy. In all things and in all
ways… and we tried to do it in all times. To celebrate the resurrection of our
Lord, we practiced joy.
I preached one of
those weeks on the topic of “practicing joy in all times” – and I used a
passage from Philippians 4 to guide that message.
If you remember
that sermon or if you know a little about the context behind Paul’s letter to
the Philippians, you know that Paul was imprisoned by the Roman empire when he
wrote this letter. Despite all the hardship and suffering Paul and other early
disciples of Christ were facing, Paul lifted up joy and celebration and glory
as a reminder so that people would continue their good works and the spreading
of the Gospel in the name of Christ. And despite the hardships and sufferings,
Paul does exactly that. In the midst of all the doom and gloom, Paul’s message
is a happy ray of sunshine promoting positive living and grace-filled gratitude.
Nothing and no one will take that from him.
But in all of
Paul’s positive pep talks, there’s also a harsh bit of truth and reality. In
between messages of thanksgiving and joy, Paul holds a conversation of intimate
vulnerability. He talks about death – possibly his death and the death of those
like him who follow Christ.
As I said, when
Paul writes the letters to the Philippians, he is imprisoned by the Roman
empire for declaring Jesus as Lord and not Caesar. He writes this to the people
of Philippi, which their city at the time was a Roman colony. Both Paul and the
Philippians shared the experience of living under the rule of the Roman Empire.
And with it, they shared the threat of imprisonment, punishment, and death for
challenging an oppressive system that opposed their call to follow Christ.
Paul admits to the
Philippians, in his opening remarks, that he believes his ministry has led him
to an impasse with two choices: life or death, and that he is hard pressed
between the two. He does not know what he will choose. He says that he desires
death so that he can be with Christ but to live and continue his work is more
necessary for the community.
And I don’t
believe Paul is glorifying death or martyrdom here. I hear a man, who loves
Christ and loves life, who tries to be positive and supportive and joyful every
day, who believes in his purpose and ministry – I hear a man who despite all
the great things he tries to be is also simultaneously tired and worn down and
yes, even a little broken. I see a man who is face to face with his own
mortality and a man who recognizes his death is a very real possibility in his
near future. I feel for this man who would welcome death because it would mean
an end for his suffering. That’s the Paul who wrote these words that we heard
this day.
But Paul also
convinces himself that he must continue to live for the sake of the community.
Does this
dichotomy ring a bell for you? Have you ever witnessed a simultaneous
acceptance of death and a will to live?
When the Aids
epidemic hit our country decades ago, the queer community shared the experience
of living in the face of death. With no support of the government and a
physical and emotional ostracizing of an entire group of people from society,
the queer community faced the harsh reality living every day with the
possibility of death. Justin Tanis, a PCUSA pastor and theologian, spent a part
of his ministry serving alongside men living with HIV aids. Tanis said that many of the men, when
critically ill and facing the real possibility of death, shared the dilemma of
the war happening within them; that they would welcome death to end their
suffering but also their need to live for the sake of others. That’s the same
feeling Paul had. And for the men facing the harsh reality of death, they
carried the guilt that their care would be placed on the lives of their loved
ones while also worrying about the grief that would spread among their loved
ones once they died.
And for those left
behind, who did and do grieve deeply and painfully, they had to figure out what
it means to keep on living. There must have been times where the thought of
joining those on the other side, as Paul longed to join Christ, was very tempting.
But the queer community, while facing death every day, learned the value of
life, they learned the value of each and every day.
Unfortunately,
LGBTQ+ youth are more than 4x likely to attempt suicide than their straight and
cisgender peers. The Trevor Project, an organization that focuses on suicide
prevention for LGBTQ+ youth, found that in a 2022 survey, 45% of LGBTQ+ youth
thought about attempting suicide. That percentage was even higher for
transgender and nonbinary youth. It should also be noted that LGBTQ+ youth are
not inherently prone to suicide risk because of their sexual orientation or
gender identity. It comes from how they are mistreated and stigmatized in
society. Things like rejection from their families; conversion therapy; casual
homophobia and transphobia in schools, work places, and churches; and even the
best intentioned, most faithful people who use their beliefs to label LGBTQ+ as
sinful and wrong.
Today is Lehigh
Valley Pride. It is a day when our community celebrates the stories, histories,
and lives of the LGBTQ+ community. And while we might believe that it does
matter if a person is straight or gay, let me tell you. It does matter. It’s a
beautiful thing! Today we celebrate queerness the same way we celebrate our own
lives every day. This is something we will learn to do every day. To see
someone’s identity and realize that their story, history, and life is the good
news of the Gospel told in the flesh. What would it look like for us as a
community of faith to learn from the queer community? A community that has
lived out fully the words that Paul wrote and that we heard from today.
The queer
community knows death. They know the burdens of carrying guilt and grief. They
know hardships and suffering. They know what it means to not give up when it
feels like the very society around them is against them. They know what it
means to be rejected and angry and sad. They know what it means to want to walk
away.
As a community of
faith, we too have lived hard pressed between life and death, especially these
last two years. I’m not talking about an actual physical death like Paul was
talking about or what members of the queer community experienced, but a
metaphorical death of leaving this community behind because the suffering has
been too great.
Over the last two
years, we’ve lost good intentioned, faithful people. People left. Those who
remained, people like me and you, carried that grief and guilt while doing our
very best to continue to live a life worthy of the Gospel all while experiencing
a community immersed in suffering. And I think all of us have prayerfully
considered stepping away at some point. Most recently, I have been aware of
people who are questioning whether they want to be a part of a community that
has treated Jan among other so horribly. Even I admit, that’s not a community I
want to be a part of…
Some days walking
away seems like the right choice. For those who make this choice, I know it
wasn’t made lightly. We need to support, affirm, bless, and love those who make
that choice. Walking away doesn’t mean giving up. Rather, it’s another way to
live a life worthy of the Gospel of Christ. This is true for some of the people
who have chosen to leave this community. This includes Pastor Jan. In the same
way for all who have left, we will support, affirm, bless, and love her as she
departs.
And some of us
have chosen to stay in this season. We need to support, affirm, bless, and love
each other. We need to hold firm to the choices that brought us to this point.
We must learn from our mistakes and provide a better path for those who are
still here and for those who will be called to join us one day. This is another
way to live a life worthy of the Gospel of Christ.
Both choices carry
their own hardships. And both decisions will still carry a certain amount of
guilt and grief. Either option is not an easy path to take. And there’s no
point trying to do any of it alone. I can’t. And I don’t think any of you can
either. We’re not meant to do any of this alone.
So as for me, I
will take the guilt and the grief, the hardships and the sufferings, and if it
is okay with you, I ask that you take it on with me. As long as I am here, I
want to be a companion to you in our growth and our joy. And this also means
sharing our pain. But with you, I feel more courage and confident. To be with
you is a gift. And to suffer with you – although incredibly difficult – is also
a gift. Because we do so in the name of Christ and as part of the body of
Christ.
If we are to do
this together, we need an anchor for our community. That anchor must be our
lives in Christ. Christ must be at our very center: the center of our pursuits,
the center of our thinking, the center of our reflections, and the center of
our lives.
In all things, in
all seasons, we must glorify Christ. This relentless focus on Christ is worth
every moment we might face together as one body.
Today I give
thanks for faithfulness, loyalty, and generosity of this congregation in the
midst of hardships. Today we honor God with acknowledging our suffering. Today
we learn and we grow. Today we cling to our faith and our Lord. And we move
forward. With joy and celebration, with commitment and glory, we will live
lives worthy of the Gospel.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
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