A New Kind of Privilege: A Sermon for Proper 22

The letter to the Philippians is the closest thing to a love letter that Paul ever wrote. It is a joy-and hope-filled letter that overflows with Paul’s gratitude for God and the people of the church he founded in Philippi. The irony of it is, Paul wrote this letter while he was incarcerated. How could someone who was locked away in a prison cell be so positive, gracious, and full of hope? I believe that the answer has to do with identity. As we heard in today’s portion of the letter, Paul testifies that his identity – his sense of self-worth – is grounded in his belief that “Christ Jesus has made [him] his own.” So for Paul, the only person he was imprisoned to was Christ himself – he even claimed as much in his letter to the Ephesians when he wrote, “I Paul am a prisoner for Christ Jesus.”

Paul goes to great lengths in his discussion on identity; among many things, he saw his conversion story to be profoundly wrapped up in it. He points out that prior to his conversion, he took great pride in his previous religious identity. He was every bit as “religious” prior to his conversion to Christ as he was afterwards. He was “circumcised on the eight day, a member of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew born of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless.” It is clear that prior to his conversion, Paul’s sense of self-worth was tied up in his family and religious identity. Within his context, he was a person on privilege – he knew it, he relished in it, and he exploited it.

As Paul was writing to his church in Philippi from his prison cell, he must have been reflecting a good bit on his identity. Prison will do that to you. Incarceration isn’t only about detaining someone – it’s not just about physical imprisonment. Incarceration also to strips prisoners of their sense of self-worth, confidence, and identity. There is an incarcerated man with whom I correspond via email and letters. If I leave off his inmate number, it will not make it to him. In terms of the prison system, his identity is his inmate number. And the psychological effects of being stripped of one’s freedom and sense of identity can be debilitating.  

So, as Paul was reflecting on his identity from his prison cell, two things emerged. First, Paul wasn’t going to let his imprisonment define him. In other words, once Paul had come to know Jesus Christ, Paul’s understanding of freedom drastically changed. Once he began his missionary journeys, Paul actually spent a good amount of time in prison. Yet the only imprisonment he felt was when he referred to himself as a “prisoner for Christ Jesus.” For Paul, true freedom was in his relationship with Jesus, no matter where he was or what circumstances he found himself in. As he wrote to the church in Galatia - “For freedom, Christ has set us free.”

The second theme that emerged from Paul’s imprisonment was his newfound familial and religious identity. After his conversion to Christ, Paul had an entirely new understanding of privilege. Previously, Paul relished in the privilege into which he was born. As he said, “if anyone has reason to be confident in the flesh, I have more.” He came from the “right” people, the right tribe, and he zealously embraced the family – biologically and religiously - into which he was born. If anybody would have made his parents proud, it would have been Paul. He carried his familial flag with pride, confidence, and vigor.

So imagine their shock, perhaps even their disappointment, when Paul goes on to say, “Yet whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ…I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him.” Paul’s newfound identity in Christ ran much deeper than any previous identity he had. Paul was steeped in privilege, yet once he met Christ, none of it mattered to him. His baptism in Christ profoundly reshaped how he understood himself and how he understood salvation history. 

Earlier this morning, we baptized Curry Alexandra Torrey into Christ’s Body. If there was ever a baptism text, it is this section of Paul’s letter to the Philippians. Above all else, Christian baptism is about the reshaping of our identity. As we are grafted into Christ’s Body, we are actually claiming the Church as our primary family. Notice that when we baptize someone, we don’t say their last name – their family name. You may have heard the term “Christian name” used when referring to someone’s first name. Another term for that is our “baptismal name.” Notice that popes don’t have a last name. When they are consecrated, they are given a new name – Francis, Benedict, John Paul, and the like. Their old family names are replaced with a new one. This detail about names is oftentimes overlooked, but it is a radical reshaping of identity. In baptism, we are dying to our old selves and rising to our new life in Christ. Our old selves – our old identities – are washed away in the waters of baptism. And when we rise up out of the water of baptism, we are born anew. We have a new name and a new identity. 

Paul’s testimony to the Philippians comes at an important time for us. For many people in our country today – including, or perhaps even especially, Christians – one’s primary identity is their political affiliation. With it being election season, this way of identifying one’s self – this way for finding community, meaning, and purpose is at an all-time high. We fly flags, put stickers on our cars, and put up signs to indicate where and to whom our allegiance lies. 

There will always be multiple political parties and multiple ways to approach making our country thrive. That is the spirit of democracy. And good citizenship requires that we actively and responsibly engage in the political process to make our democracy thrive. But as Christians, our calling is to first be grounded in our baptismal identity. Our identity as members of Christ’s Body should always be our starting point, and dare I say, should supersede our identity as Americans as well as our biological families. It is from the baptismal font that our politics and relationships should flow.

The spiritual turning point for the Apostle Paul was when he came to realize that his political citizenship in the Roman Empire and his familial citizenship in the tribe of Benjamin were not where his true citizenship lay. The Apostle Paul understood this and lived this theological and existential reality better than anyone - so much so that he could be locked away in a prison cell and write one of the most joy- and hope-filled letters in all of the New Testament. He could undergo stoning, torture, and imprisonment and still “press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.” This profound conversion – this radical transformation – is what we as Christians are called to pursue. It is counterintuitive to, as Paul says, “regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” But, Lord willing, what we lose will pale in comparison to what we will gain. Thanks be to God.