Sermons/Discussions

“There is No Greater Thing...”

Sermon: Last Sunday of Epiphany year A

The Rev. Anne Kennedy

The Church of the Good Shepherd

I want to talk this morning about ‘knowing'—‘Knowing Jesus' particularly. We've talked many times about how to begin a relationship with God, with Jesus. Some of you probably wonder why it comes up almost every Sunday. Maybe we don't have anything else to say? No, I assure you.

We talk so regularly about beginning and sustaining a personal relationship with God because that's why we're here, that's the point of all this. We were created to know God, to be in a relationship with him, to be known by him. It's our purpose, our reason for existing, the deepest desire of all of us, however much or however little we may feel or be aware of that desire. And so it comes up almost every week—like a refrain, a regular chorus that punctuates, that shapes, that gives continuity to our lives. You can hear it once, you can hear it a thousand times. Each time you hear it it has the power to transform and change you—
making you more holy, more like Christ himself.

The ‘it' I'm talking about is the Gospel, the good news of how it is possible to personally know God and be known by him.

Any of you watch the Daily Show? Pretty funny—not always appropriate but really very funny. John Stewart, the host of the program, like many, what's a good word?— secular, liberally oriented people are worried about the intrusion of religion into the cultural, civic, secular political sphere of American life.

I'm not here to debate politics but Mr. Stewart said something telling about three days ago. He was interviewing a bright and interesting journalist covering the war in Iraq . The bright young journalist ended the interview with a sort of aside,

‘well, I'm not in the habit of talking to God' and Mr. Stewart responded, ‘oh no, neither am I'.

And the interview was over. Summarily, in less than a minute, the whole reason and point of our existence, dismissed. I don't do that—I don't relate personally to God. And, by implication, if you do you're psycho and suspect and religiously insane.

Not to harp too much on this point, but I wouldn't be at all surprised if many of you sitting here this morning haven't really experienced a personal intimate relationship with God, a knowledge of God, of Jesus. That many of you really don't have a sense of Jesus being right next to you, being part of your moment to moment existence, of ordering and sustaining your life. That you don't know Christ in the way that Paul talks about in the text we have before us today.

Turn to it with me. Philippians chapter three, verses 7 through 14. Philippians is in between Ephesians and Colossians. If you haven't already, its really useful to memorize the books of the Bible, makes it easier to flip around and be able find things quickly. Read along with me.

" But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. 8What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ 9and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ–the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith."

There's a lot going on here. It'll be helpful to point out a couple of things about Paul. Paul had been, before he became a Christian, a Pharisee. If you read the Gospels you'll hear a lot about the Pharisees. They were very devout people—they devoted their lives to good theology, ordered life, regular worship in the temple, and above all, keeping the law— following not only the 10 commandments but the whole law found in Leviticus. They were good people, the best. They didn't lie, cheat, smoke cigars, drink too much, you name it, they didn't do it.

But Paul, Paul was the best Pharisee. Not only did he keep the law and devote himself to being good, he went after people who were bad, wrong, in his case, he went after Christians. He believed they were so wrong they deserved to die. He devoted himself to killing them. In his Pharisee days, if you had asked Paul if he knew God he would have been insulted. Of course he knew God. He was a follower of the Law! Righteous and Good—‘circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews, in regard to the law, a Pharisee; as for zeal, persecuting the church; as for legalistic righteousness, faultless.' How could you even ask?

But, guess what, he didn't know God. He knew about God. He knew all the things that God had said. He knew that God is Holy and Righteous and Just. The Bible? He knew the whole Bible—any verse, any chapter, any concept, he knew it. But did he know God? Not at all. In other words, good clean liven ain't gonna do it. All the goodness you posses, all the things you can count up that you believe ought to be your ticket to eternal life, all of that, rubbish—that's a nice word for it—Paul says, its all a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ—not knowing about him, knowing him.

How is it possible to know Christ?

It's the same thing you've been hearing almost every Sunday for the past three years—end of verse 9: “not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ–the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith.” Your eternal happiness and life does not come from your own righteousness, your own goodness. Your eternal happiness and life is only available through Christ who, in his death and resurrection made it possible for you to leave your goodness aside and depend entirely and completely on his.

Do you know how freeing this is? You don't have to do anything.
You don't have to be good enough, smart enough, wonderful enough.
I don't know about you, but it's enormously freeing to be able to admit to myself,
to God and to the whole world what a rotten person I am— how sinful, how unloving, I could go on and on— And that in no way does my salvation depend on me. Not just me, every Christian. That Paul, confronted with the living resurrected Christ could fall of his horse and stop running around the known world, killing and persecuting every Christian he could lay his hands on.
That's the first step to knowing Christ. Letting go of yourself, your ‘goodness'.
Its not going to get you anywhere. Its nothing compared to the surpassing greatness of Christ.

The second step? Verse ten. I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, 11and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.
You let go of yourself and grab on and cling to Christ— his power, his suffering, his death, his resurrection. Basically who he is and everything he's done.
He suffered and died for you. He rose again for you. He wants to know you.
If you let him in a tiny bit, he'll move in, he'll take over, he'll change your life.
And, as you begin to be changed, as you are filled with the Holy Spirit, as you love God more and more, you'll find that the sufferings you endure in this life
are given shape and context and meaning by the sufferings and person of Christ.
You'll better understand and know Jesus in your own suffering. But we heard enough about suffering last week.

That's how, but that's not why.

Knowing Jesus is the best and most beautiful thing that will ever happen to you.
Any of you ever fallen in love? Its something that happens to you. You don't set out in the morning, deciding to fall in love, setting out a plan, being all rational about it. You bump into someone one day, look into their eyes and loose yourself. You don't even care that you're not the amazing person you want everyone to believe you are. You just want to be with this person whom you love, whom you know.

So also with Jesus. Falling in love with Jesus is better than anything else you can imagine. Its something we, each of us, can go on doing more every day, falling in love, and, along with Paul, we must press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of us. Forgetting what is behind, and straining toward what is ahead, we press on toward the goal, that is Jesus himself. Amen.