Stewardship of the Incarnation- Mind Your Manners
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I’m not sure I ever had the best manners. So, when I was in middle school, my mom enrolled me in something called Cotillion. I had to go around the neighborhood and practice a proper greeting and have people sign off on it. I had to learn the fox trot and place settings and where people were supposed to sit. What is polite dinner conversation and what isn’t? How are we really supposed to act around one another? How do we mind our manners?
What are the manners of Christian community? How are we to care for one another, live among each other, and somehow still love each other?
Well, as it turns out, Paul had one or two ideas about that. Not unlike our present situation today, Paul was used to dealing with division in churches and he had something to say about it. Mind your manners.
Let’s read what he said again, this time from the Message translation. “If you’ve gotten anything at all out of following Christ, if his love has made any difference in your life, if being in a community of the Spirit means anything to you, if you have a heart, if you care—then do me a favor: Agree with each other, love each other, be deep-spirited friends. Don’t push your way to the front; don’t sweet-talk your way to the top. Put yourself aside, and help others get ahead. Don’t be obsessed with getting your own advantage. Forget yourselves long enough to lend a helping hand.”
In other words, if you are truly a disciple, if Christ has transformed you, if you have compassion and sympathy, then be one with one another. Philippians 2:1-4 in the Greek is all one sentence. Notice the focus on unity. Same mind. Same love. One mind. Same mind. Paul says all of this in just three verses. He talks about sharing in the Spirit. The word for this is koinonia. Koinonia is the language of partnership and community., of holding things together in common. Then Paul says we need to look out for the interest of others over ourselves. Don’t keep pushing your way to the top.
Perhaps you remember last year in the news of a young girl, Nyla Covington, who was crowned homecoming queen. But only moments after being crowned, she walked over and placed it onto her friend, Brittany Walter’s head. Brittany was standing on the court beside her and had lost her mom earlier that day. Nyla walked over to her, placed the crown on her head and told her, “you are your mom’s queen. you deserve this.” Nyla gave up her crown. She took the privilege of her title and handed it over. The manner of Christian community is the manner of humility.
This manner, this posture we should take on, is the same as the mind of Christ. The movement of Christ is not a rise to the top or a power trip. It is the way of descent, of lowering and of emptying.
For Paul says that “Christ, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself.” He became human, incarnate, in the flesh. He humbled himself, all the way to death on the cross.
He emptied himself. The word for this kind of emptying is kenosis. Christ set aside his status and rank, his privilege and power. This went against everything in Roman culture, which was honor-seeking. Jesus laid down the crown of heaven so that we would could receive the crown of life.
Christ did not allow his status to get in the way of His service. But I wonder if sometimes we don’t do that? I wonder if the church doesn’t fall prey to appearances over action, of maintenance of the status quo over mission, of attendance over acceptance.
At the church I served prior, we would occasionally have this smell that would permeate the building. Not just any smell. This smell was like hot garbage and gym socks had a baby. No amount of Febreze could mask it. When it would resurface, we would spend money trying to find answers, trying to solve it, just trying to make it go away. We didn’t want to be known as “the stinky church.” It would have been bad manners.
But what would it mean to be a stinky church? Delores Mission in LA faced this question themselves. I’ve mentioned this church to you before. They were a safe space for gang members, immigrants, and homeless men and women. Each night, they opened their sanctuary and allowed these individuals to sleep on their pews. Well, if you can imagine night after night, men, women and children who haven’t had a chance to bathe gathered together in one spot. You guessed it? Their sanctuary began to stink. Each Sunday morning, they would spray some Renew on the carpets, plug in some Glade, and hope for the best. But the smell lingered.
And so one Sunday Pastor Greg asked his congregation, “What does the church smell like?” They were hesitant to answer. He asked them again. “What does the church smell like?” Finally someone answered “It smells like feet.” “Why does it smell like feet?” he asked. “Cuz many homeless men slept here last night.” Pastor Greg asked, “Well, why do we let that happen here?” “It’s what we committed to do.” “Well, why would anyone commit to do that?” It’s what Jesus would do. “Well then, what’s the church smell like now?” One member piped up- “it smells like commitment.” Then they grew louder and shouted- “it smells like roses.”
Leonard Sweet says “If you aren’t smelling awful smells sometimes, then you’re not where Jesus is.” I remember visiting an elderly man now and again with some fellow church members and over time we began to notice a smell. The fragrance of neglect. The scent of someone unable to care for themselves. Without even a question, these women suddenly began meeting at his house each Sunday and would bathe him, shave him, comb his hair, dress him, and bring him to church.
How far are we willing to go to identify with the least of these? How much will we consider their needs greater than our own? What are we willing to set aside so that others have a chance at life? Delores Mission and these women didn’t care about the smell because they were committed to the manners of Christ, of koinonia and kenosis, of fellowship and humility. The set aside their status to become stewards of the incarnation, to care for one another in the flesh.
Lately I fear the church has not minded its manners. We have not cared for one another well. We have bickered and fought and split off from each other. We have held our opinions over the mind of Christ and our interests over the needs of others. We have filled ourselves with the latest information instead of emptying ourselves to be filled with the Spirit. And in the midst of all of this, Paul tells us we should mind our manners, to care for one another in the flesh.
Today we gather around this table to remember what Christ did for us in the flesh. To remember what Christ poured out. We also remember that we alone don’t come to this table. The whole world comes to this table. People from Asia and Japan and Europe and India. People from big cities and small towns and the middle-of-nowhere places. People gather around tables with gold plates and paper plates and fresh bread and Zesta crackers.
Today we come with the world to the table set with grace. Here at this table we empty ourselves of titles, privilege, and reputations. And we lower ourselves down, humbling ourselves so that we may receive the body and blood of Christ. And with these words, and with this food, Jesus says “do this in remembrance of me.” Mind your manners.