Philippians 1:27-30
March 1
David A. Davis
Jump to audio

Only. The word is either lost on the scripture’s page or maybe it leaps off the scripture’s page. Only. In the Greek text, this only. Only this. Only. Sort of a strange way to start a sentence. If I have done my homework well, it is not at all that common a way to start a sentence on the scripture’s page either. Only. The very few times I could find a sentence starting with only in the New Testament, were in the writings of Paul. Paul, here in Philippians. Here in what I read to you from chapter 1. And in chapter 3 at verse 16, Paul writes, “Only let us hold fast to what we have attained.” Only. In II Timothy, Paul writes, “Only Luke is with me. Get Mark and bring him with you.” But that’s a different meaning. Only. “Only, live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ.” The translation on the bulletin cover this morning is from the Common English Bible: “Most important, live together in a manner worthy of Christ’s gospel.” In his commentary on The Epistle to the Philippians, Karl Barth offers this translation of the Greek text: “Just one thing!” “Just one thing! Live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ.”

Just one thing. Here in Chapter 1 of Philippians, the Apostle Paul expresses his deep gratitude for the church. Thanking God for their sharing the gospel. He tells them of his confidence that Christ is at work among them, doing good work. He writes of his profound love and compassion for them and prays that their love would overflow more and more. He shares with the church that his imprisonment has actually served to spread the gospel and that, even in chains, he and others will not stop boldly proclaiming the gospel without fear.  All that matters is that Christ is proclaimed. Early on in his letter to the Philippians, Paul wrestles with the imminent possibility of his own death while insisting that he continues to rejoice. Christ shall be exalted either in his life or in his death. “For to me, living is Christ and dying is gain.” Paul knows his life and his death are in God’s hands and he expresses his desire to see them again so that together they can boast, and bask, and live in Christ.

After all of that, just here in the first chapter of Philippians- the church’s faithfulness, love and compassion for one another, his imprisonment, the bold proclamation of the gospel, life and death, and life together in Christ- after all of that. Only. Only. Just one thing. Most important. “Live your live in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ.” We should not forget that the Apostle Paul is the one who writes in Romans about the remnant chosen by grace. “If it is by grace, it is no longer on the basis of works, otherwise grace would no longer be grace.” (Rom 11:8). And as I quoted from Ephesians last week: “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God- not the results of works, so that no one may boast.” The Apostle Paul on saved by grace, not by works. But Paul continues there in the 2^nd chapter of Ephesians, “For we are what God has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.” Or in other words, “Only, live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ!” Only.

It’s not just about belief or doctrine or piety or religiosity. According to Paul, it’s about how you live. And living a life worthy of the gospel is not just about the individual. A life worthy of the gospel includes life together as the body of Christ. Paul’s exhortation to the Body of Christ at Philippi is to live a common life together worthy of the gospel. “So that, whether I come and see you or am absent and hear about you, I will know that you are standing firm in one spirit, striving side by side with one mind for the faith of the gospel…” Standing firm by God’s Spirit along with others. Side by side. Maybe not agreeing about everything, but when it comes to the faith of the gospel, being of one mind. A congregation’s life together is a reflection of the gospel of Jesus Christ. As is so often said in the words of welcome, “we seek to embody the love of God in word and deed in our life together and individually in our life in the world.”

Back in the fall, Cathy and I drove down for the 275^th anniversary of my first congregation, The First Presbyterian Church of Blackwood. At the luncheon, I was talking to the pastor who succeeded me there. As we chatted over lunch, he shared that he was no longer serving a church. He was working as a hospice chaplain. He went on to explain that the pandemic ripped apart the church we went to serve after he left Blackwood. That church is not far from here, over in Hunterdon County. He said there were many strong opinions about protocols and COVID-related decisions, and whatever he and the session decided upset someone, and all sides took it out on him. “Dave, they ate me up and spit me out,” he said. It won’t shock you to know that congregations don’t always stand side by side with one mind for the faith of the gospel. Here at Nassau, I know that not everyone agreed with all the decisions, the protocols, and the timing that were made in those days. But I can tell you, I am the only pastor I know, seriously, who did not have a member of their congregation yelling at them. For which I remain deeply grateful to you and to God. The Apostle Paul makes it very clear that living a life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ has everything to do with the collective life of the community of faith.

“I will know that you are standing firm in one spirit, striving side by side with one mind for the faith of the gospel, and are in no way intimidated by your opponents….This is God’s doing. For God ha graciously granted you the privilege of believing in Christ, but of suffering for Christ as well—since you are having the same struggle that you saw I had and now hear that I still have.”  What can’t be known here is the specifics of what Paul is referring to when it comes to the suffering, the struggle. The struggle Paul is “having now” is clearly a reference to his imprisonment. But his reference to others having the privilege of not just believing in Christ but suffering, struggling for Christ as well, is less clear. And yes, wrapping one’s head and heart around the notion of you and me suffering for Christ is a longer conversation with a whole lot more to ponder historically, theologically, biblically, pastorally.

What I do now, today, this morning, this week, these days, is that it is not hard to ponder the Apostle’s plea for the one thing, the most important, the only. It is not difficult in one’s sacred imagination to ponder living a life in a manner worthy of the gospel and the call not to be intimidated by opponents. It is not difficult these days to acknowledge that you and I have the privilege of not only believing in Christ, but struggling for him as well. Because living our faith, living the faith of Jesus Christ, living the faith in Jesus Christ today, this week, this morning, is difficult. It is a challenge. It isn’t hard to know what to believe but it is really hard to know what to do. And when Paul affirms that it is God’s doing, yes, our salvation is God’s doing. Yes, living in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ is also God’s doing. And living the faith in the face of opponents and the ever-present darkness of the powers and principalities is God’s doing. Believing in Christ and suffering/struggling for him is God’s doing. It’s all God’s doing. God’s doing in Paul’s words. Or in the words of Professor Nancy Lammers Gross, shared in the children’s time in the last few weeks. “God’s got this!” Say that with me, “God’s got this.” Affirming that God’s got this, that it is God’s doing, is the only way I know to live.

As we study one of Paul’s letters this Lent, I want to share with you that I signed a letter this Lent. An open letter signed by hundreds and hundreds of Christian faith leaders around the nation. It is entitled “A Call to Christians in A Crisis of Faith and Democracy”. It is a call for a courageous and faithful witness to the gospel of Jesus Christ today, this week, these days. It was released on Ash Wednesday. Early on, it reads, “As Christians in the United States, representing the breadth of Christian traditions and one part of our nation’s religiously plural society, we are compelled to speak out more boldly at this time.” Later in the letter: “We refuse to baptize domination. We refuse to sanctify cruelty. We refuse to confuse authoritarian power with divine authority. We choose to resist, calling forth the righteous demands of our faith rooted in the teachings of Jesus. Religion should not be used to deify politicians or justify their abuses. When it is, faith ceases to be faithful and becomes a weapon of both heresy and hypocrisy.”

Near the conclusion, several commitments are listed. They are so simple, so Sunday School-like, so basic gospel-like, that it reminds me of how often I have said to you that when it gets harder and harder in the world and the nation to live the faith,  the simplest parts of the gospel become all the more clear and compelling. The list of commitments? Protect and stand with vulnerable people. Love our neighbors. Speak truth to power. Seek peace. Do justice. Strengthen democracy. Practice hope. Ground discipleship in love and prayer.

Yes, clear and compelling. Not complicated, yet not really debatable when it comes to the teaching of Jesus and the writing of Paul. It occurs to me that it is sort of a primer on how to do, how to live, how to be “only”.  David Buttrick, who taught and wrote about preaching for a generation at Vanderbilt, once said that the best measure of faithful preaching is the redemptive life of the community of faith. Not the rhetoric, not the sermonic flourish, not the biblical interpretive twists, not the memorable illustration. No, the faithfulness of the lives of those in the pew.

Most important. Just one thing. “Only, live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Jesus Christ…”

Only. Remember the only. Never forget the only. Together Body of Christ at Nassau Church, today, this week, these days, let’s lean into, let’s commit, let’s live the only.

Philemon
February 22
David A. Davis
Jump to audio

“When I remember you in my prayers [Onesimus], I always thank my God because I hear of your love for all the saints and your faith toward the Lord Jesus. I pray that the sharing of your faith may become effective when you perceive all the good that we may do for Christ. I have indeed received much joy and encouragement from your love, because the hearts of the saints have been refreshed through you, my brother.” I pray that your faith may become more effective, more powerful, more active as you perceive all the good that we may do for Christ. All the good we do for Christ. The good we do for Christ.

Paul’s Letter to Philemon is notable for its brevity. Compared with the rest of the Apostles’ canon, it is also notable for the lack of a profound theological argument, as in Romans. Or the poetic style reflected in Paul’s description of Christ in Colossians: “He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.” Or the soaring proclamation of resurrection hope in I Corinthians 15. Or the affirmation of the bedrock of the faith in Ephesians: “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.” As the Letter to Philemon sits in Paul’s portfolio, some may think it is rather….pedestrian.

Paul is under house arrest for preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Writing from Rome, maybe Ephesus. It’s a letter to Philemon, Apphia, Archippus, and the church in the house. Paul writes an appeal for Onesimus, who has become like a son to Paul. Onesimus, whose name means “useful,” is a slave previously working in Philemon’s home. Some suggest that maybe Philemon had dispatched Onesimus to assist Paul during his incarceration, and it has long since passed the time when Onesimus was due to return. It could be that Paul is sending Onesimus back to Philemon in hopes that Philemon would allow him to return to Paul. Of course, more importantly, Paul is asking for a reconciling transformation in their relationship. That Philemon would welcome Onesimus back “no longer as a slave but more than a slave, a beloved brother—especially to me, but how much more to you, both in the flesh and in the Lord.” The Apostle underscores his request with the offer to cover any expenses incurred or any wrongs while Onesimus was away. “Charge that to my account…I will repay it”.

It is also striking how this oh so short biblical letter that somehow made the canon formed by the church councils is so un-bible like. Little to none when it comes to reflecting that strange old world of the bible. No demons. No healings. No loaves and fishes multiplied. No walking on water. No miracle. No thousands are joining the church. No tongues of fire and people hearing in their own tongue. No Damascus road voice from heaven and blindness, and conversation for Paul. No, Paul is writing to Philemon on behalf of one man, a slave. And Paul is asking Philemon to love him.

Your love for all the saints. Joy and encouragement from your love. An old man writing and appealing based on love. An old man appealing for a younger man who has become like a son to him. An appeal for love. “Welcome him as you would welcome me.” Oh, and prepare your guest room for me. Pray that I can come and see you soon. A letter so un-bible like. And yet, a letter so everyday. A letter so like the church in the house. The body of Christ. Little talk about faith, but a letter packed full of faith. No theology in words, but a profound theological statement about life in Christ. Not a lot of writing about religious things, but what is described is holy. No religious talk. Just a letter that is full of talk about the Christ-like life. The Apostle Paul, writing from imprisonment bound by the empire, asks Philemon for a radical love that upends culture and humanity’s entrenched way of life. The kind of love that turns upside down how the world works, and challenges how empires and principalities function, and threatens those in power who seek wrap the weak and most vulnerable in chains. This short letter devoid of miracles is actually quite miraculous. Paul appeals for one man named Onesimus. Paul is asking for the very love of Jesus Christ to be unleashed, set free, and on the loose in and through the church in the house. Paul asks Philemon to imagine and to so live all the good we can for Christ.

This week, I started reading Mother Emanuel: Two Centuries of Race, Resistance, and Forgiveness in One Charleston Church. It is written by Kevin Sack, who, as a journalist for the NYTimes, was assigned to cover the horrible murders at the Mother Emanuel AME Church 10 years ago in Charleston, South Carolina. Nine African Americans were shot and killed during their weeknight bible study by a young white man who bought the gun with money his father gave him. The author, along with anyone else following the story at the time, was so struck by the forgiveness voiced by family members almost immediately in the aftermath of their loved ones being murdered. He and they describe a kind of otherworldly, almost divine experience of forgiveness. Kevin Sack set out to write about the history of Mother Emanuel in the context of the African American experience.

The book begins with a detailed description of what the church folks at Emanuel came to call “The tragedy”. The chapter concludes with the author telling of the funeral for the pastor, the Rev. Clementa Carlos Pinckney, conducted at the local college arena. You will remember that President Obama gave the eulogy and concluded the homily singing “Amazing Grace.” Sack writes that the president scrapped what his speechwriters gave him and “rebuilt the scaffolding of the eulogy” around the hymn. Just before starting to sing, President Obama quoted the novelist Marilynne Robinson, who defined grace as “that reservoir of goodness”. “That reservoir of goodness that enabled humans to treat each other with extraordinary generosity.” To be honest, revisiting President Obama’s sermon that day while looking out at the nation today was a bit disheartening. “If we can find that grace,” he preached, “anything is possible. If we can tap that grace, everything can change.” Then, after a pause, he started to sing.

To use Paul’s language, the preacher that day was pointing to all the good we can do for Christ. Standing up in the midst of an unspeakable, unimaginable tragedy and daring to believe that ordinary people can do extraordinary acts of love and forgiveness, empowered, emboldened, and inspirit by God’s grace. Standing up this morning and daring to believe that ordinary people can do extraordinary acts of love and forgiveness, empowered, emboldened, and inspirit by God’s grace.  To use Paul’s own words, daring to believe that there is “a still more excellent way.”  It is not aspirational. It is prophetic. “If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or clanging symbol. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.” In First Corinthians, Paul preaches it. In Philemon, Paul, Onesimus, Philemon, and the church in the house….they live it. The only reason scholars can offer for how this short, pedestrian yet miraculous letter stayed in the canon is that Philemon must have said yes. Everyone knew Philemon said yes. He said “yes” to love and all the good we can do for Christ.

Come to the Table this morning to be nourished for your life in Christ this afternoon. Christ invites you to join the Table fellowship along with his disciples, the great cloud of witnesses, the communion of saints, and the church that’s in the house. Come with praise and thanksgiving to remember the One who could talk theology with the best of them in the synagogue and go and eat with sinners afterward. He would argue with the most educated and most powerful and then go hang out with the outcasts and touch the unclean. The Messiah, the Savior of the whole world, the Ruler of the Universe, lived, died, and rose again with a kind of radical love that upends culture and humanity’s entrenched way of life. A kind of love that turns upside down how the world works, and challenges how empires and principalities function, and threatens those in power who seek wrap the weak and most vulnerable in chains.

Here at the Table, the words are few: “Take, eat, this is my body broken for you”. The words of Jesus, who gave his life for our sins and the sins of the world. Here, around this table, we affirm our life in Christ, and by his grace all the good we can do for him. For it is Jesus Christ who takes your hand, and turns to the Creator and says, “Charge it to my account.”

“When I remember you in my prayers [Paul writes to the church in the house]], I always thank my God because I hear of your love for all the saints and your faith toward the Lord Jesus. I pray that the sharing of your faith may become effective when you perceive all the good that we may do for Christ. I have indeed received much joy and encouragement from your love, because the hearts of the saints have been refreshed through you, my siblings in Christ.”

Luke 9:28-36
February 15
Eric Barreto
Jump to audio

Psalm 112
February 8
David A. Davis
Jump to audio

“For the righteous will never be moved; they will be remembered forever.”

Louise Goss was the most elegant and eloquent woman of faith. Her passion and gift for music, her life-long commitment as a music educator, and her deep and abiding faith, it all came together in her in a way that made her an absolute connoisseur of Christian worship. And she would wear that mantle of authority with such humility and a commitment to never say an unkind word about anybody. She was a member of this congregation for 69 years. She joined the great cloud of witnesses a few months shy of her 100^th birthday. I once went to visit Louise after Easter in her room at the old Merwick Long Term Care Center behind the YM/YWCA campus. Seems strange to say it, but there was a heat wave that early spring. Only hot air was blowing out of the HVAC unit in Louise’s room. It was really uncomfortable in there. “Louise, can you believe this heat?’ I said with a groan. “David, I don’t think in all of my life I have seen a string of more beautiful days. They’ve just been stunning, haven’t they?” There in a room with barely a view outside to creation, the words were said with such joy, and fulfillment, and contentment, and gratitude, and affirmation, and it was so clear that her words went far beyond the weather! It was her summary statement of life: a string of more beautiful days.

I remember an Advent Sunday at the church door. Louse Goss just beamed with joy, and as I bent down to greet her, she took two hands off her walker and put them on my cheeks, and said, “David, that was the best Advent service I have ever experienced.” I teased her and said, “Louise, you told me that last year!” She didn’t miss a beat. Right away, Louise said, “I know, and it just keeps getting better!” It occurs to me that she was talking about more than a hymn, or a prayer, or a worship service. Louise was sharing her affirmation of faith and life in the Body of Christ. No one could greatly delight in the Lord like Louise Goss.

“For the righteous will never be moved; they will be remembered forever.”

Bob and Helen Duncan moved into the Glen Acres neighborhood in the early 1960’s. Established by the Princeton Housing Group, Glen Acres was an intentionally integrated neighborhood right off Alexander Road, just this side of Rt 1. Bob died in 2019, and Helen moved not too long ago to Reston Va to be near family. After Bob died, a church member wrote to tell me of the conversation he had with Bob when he was a relatively new member of the church, and Bob and another elder came to see him on behalf of the nominating committee, asking him to become an elder. Bob explained a fundamental part of Presbyterian Church governance that maintains that each elder is not expected to represent or vote the will of the congregation. No, each elder is to discern the will of God and vote their own conscience as led by the Spirit. Bob said it better. He told the much younger church member that  “each elder is to ask themselves ‘what would Jesus do’”. Of course, Bob Duncan wasn’t referring to some kind of pious, self-righteous morality. He was referring to leaders in the church committed to welcoming the stranger, feeding the hungry, visiting the sick, showing mercy, and speaking for justice and righteousness. Few embodied this congregation’s commitment to justice more than Bob Duncan.

Several years ago, Bob and Bill Wakefield were invited to speak at Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church in NYC to share Nassau’s ministries of immigration and refugee justice. They told the story of John Nasir. Along with others, Bob and Bill worked tirelessly to get John, an undocumented immigrant, released from the Elizabeth detention center. During the question and answers up there in the adult ed class at 5^th Avenue,  a member of the church asked them about all the time, effort, and legal fees spent for just one person. They both shared with me later how stunned they were by the question and the tone of the questioner.  It was Bill Wakefield who responded, “Well, how else would you do it?” Bill Wakefield also told me in no uncertain terms that his passion for social justice and the gospel and Matthew 25 was inspired by Bob Duncan. A light rising in the darkness shining for mercy and justice.

“For the righteous will never be moved; they will be remembered forever.”

Just the other day, I asked at a staff meeting if folks remembered the Sunday morning when Ruth Wyatt called into worship from the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge. We didn’t have the technology we have now in this room, but John Baker, our sound engineer at the time, made it work. Ruth had brain cancer. Ruth and her family joined a walk to raise awareness and money for research. What I remember most about that moving morning, as I stood here at the pulpit talking to Ruth, was how Ruth just kept saying “thank you” over and over again. Like so many of the followers of Jesus I have visited over the years who were enduring horribly disease, one always came away from a visit with Ruth being humbled by what she gave to you, even at her sickest.

Ruth died almost 20 years ago, but I still remember the visits. Ruth always said thank you, no matter what was being done for her or who was doing it. Ruth was more inclined to enjoy every conversation and to crave the laughter when a friend would bring some stories rather than wrestle with questions that had no answers. Ruth would rise to the occasion of a visit so others could feel a bit more comfortable. She craved intentional conversations with those closest to her. She basked in the unquantifiable love of her family, her friends, her church, and her God. She was content to relish the treasures of life even in the midst of illness. She never let the brokenness of her body take away from the God-given treasure of her life and the treasure of her hope for the life to come. Her heart was firm and secure in the Lord. Her heart was steady and not afraid.

“For the righteous will never be moved; they will be remembered forever.”

I watched Jim Fitzpatrick sit in a pew over by that window and shed tears during at least one hymn every Sunday for pretty much sixteen years. The son of a Methodist preacher, Jim craved the hymns and preaching of the church like the food we eat and the air we breathe. In April of 2014, Jim wrote a note to the Session of Nassau Church.

“I will never forget the time when I was listening to David Davis as he was at the peroration pitch of deliverance. I was so engrossed to the extent of not watching my speedometer and ran right into a Maryland speed trap for a cost of over $200. I was not dangerous; I was just enthralled with what David was saying. It was worth the fine, but I could not persuade the state trooper that this fine should be better put to use in our hunger offering. When I sayeth unto him verily, verily that was the case, the cop sayeth back to me in clear, definitive terms that I could my verilys and Maryland would keep the money.”

Jim was a man of many words, both in his speaking and in his writing. That might be a bit of an understatement. To listen to him tell a story at a dinner party in his home was to often feel like he would go on for eternity. He once told me he got an F on a three-page paper in college because he wrote one long sentence. It was grammatically correct, he insisted.  It was so striking to me that when Jim Fitzpatrick talked about his faith, especially the older he got, he would use very few words. One afternoon at their home on Palmer Square, Jim started to tell me of the debt and gratitude he felt toward God. It was a level of gratitude, he said, that came with a profound sense of responsibility; responsibility to give back, to try to be faithful, to contribute to the common good, and to offer thanks and praise in worship. But he had come to the conclusion that his entire relationship to God could be described by gratitude.

We had another conversation one day over lunch, sitting at two TV trays in the apartment down on Palmer Square. Jim had more beverages in front of him than he could drink in a week. There was a glass of water, a can of Ensure, a mug of something I guessed was coffee or tea and a glass of what I assumed was apple juice. A bit later, he offered me a sip and told me it was scotch. It was during that conversation we talked about eternity, about heaven. “I know people get all worked up about what to believe, and they have trouble with this scripture or that”, Jim said. “It doesn’t seem to me to be all that complicated. For me it all comes down, the gospel all comes to down to love. The promise is God’s everlasting love. That’s enough for me, he said. I don’t need any more than that.  God’s everlasting love”. Blessed are those who entrust their lives now and forever to God’s steadfast love.

“For the righteous will never be moved; they will be remembered forever.”

Louise, Bob, Bill, Ruth, Jim. I remember them and so, so, so many more. How about you? Who do you remember? They will be remembered forever. “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus…” They will be remembered forever and we shall never be moved.