Lymph Journal # 33

2//2012 - Part II of III

For to me to live is Christ and to die is gain.  Philippians 1:21

Let’s get some context – Paul is writing from prison (a place where death was always a strongly possible outcome).  He has just told the Philippians not to get upset if others are preaching the gospel with different motives than Paul – as long as it is being preached and then he launches into this:

   …Yes, and I will continue to rejoice, 19 for I know that through your prayers and the help given by the Spirit of Jesus Christ, what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance. 20 I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. 21 For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. 22 If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! 23 I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; 24 but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body. 25 Convinced of this, I know that I will remain, and I will continue with all of you for your progress and joy in the faith, 26 so that through my being with you again your joy in Christ Jesus will overflow on account of me.

27 Whatever happens, conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ…(NIV ’84)

I could go on and on about points of this but you’d be better off to read it through a few times and see what he’s saying, where his joy lies, what he hopes for, who he depends on, etc.

Did you do that?  Good.

But back to Paul’s key phrase for this entry – “For to me, to live is Christ…”

For to everyone (yes, gross generalization again but..) there is something for which to live.  For the human species “living” is more that the mammalian qualities of digestion, respiration, locomotion, reproduction and Got Milk.  There’s community, culture, beliefs, purposefulness, self-consciousness, aesthetics – things the Christian believer sees as rooted in our creation as God’s image bearers (Yikes!, don’t we blow this often individually and as a species). 

But what is a real, good, juicy, purposeful, and full life supposed to be?  From the dim recesses of childhood TV viewing I remember the punch line from one joke in that corny show about the U.S. Cavalry out West, F-Troop.  I wish I could remember the set-up but it came to the point in the joke where the Indians, the Heckowees (– I do remember this – that’s what they were called because they had been lost and cried out to some dim white folk, “Where the heck are we? -  heard as We’re the Heckowees) were asked about where they lived and the response was, “You call this living?!”

So, what do you call living? What does it mean that one’s life can be Christ?

Well, I’m not Christ.  I can’t be him.  God is not my natural Father (although I claim him as my adoptive one and I consider myself as also being “born” into the family of God).  I have not lived a perfect life (although Scripture claims God sees me as one washed by the blood of Christ into the standing of one perfected).  I cannot die as a substitute for the failings of the world or even for my own failings (although I will die physically as a result of these failings but I will live beyond because Christ was willing and a capable to do what I can’t).  I can’t overcome death (although Christ has done so and extends that to me).

So, if I can’t be Christ it must mean that I have to find myself in Christ.  Some of that shows up in the parenthetical remarks of the previous paragraph.  But, what does it mean day to day as I walk through life and live? Here’s just a few things I think it means.

We’ve got to learn to live dangerously.  Many might recognize this as a theme I first really explored when I had the high honor to address BFA graduation of the class of 2005.  It has since been turned into a theme for one season’s English Camps (complete with T-shirts and coffee mugs) and a song by Danny Plett (for which he generously listed me as a co-writer – he’d been to graduation).  I guess I should have franchised the idea.  What I mean by living dangerously and what I told that graduating class was that living in Christ’s hands means that you’ll be called to do things that aren’t always safe and expected in whatever culture you find yourself.  It might mean a literally dangerous setting.  It might mean extending love to someone you just distrust.  It might mean living counter-culturally in a materialistic (philosophically or wealth-related senses both apply here) culture.  It might means truthfulness when lying seems so much easier or even less hurtful. 

Another classroom wall hanging from back in public school days was a question paraphrased by me offered in various forms by a number of famous thinkers and activists - my version went like this: “If what you’re living for isn’t worth dying for, then is what you’re living for worth living for?”  A fifth grade teacher on seeing this on my wall (yes, fifth grade teachers think differently from eighth grade teachers) said, “Gee, that’s kind of dark.”  Well, I don’t think so. Life should be so real.

What “living dangerously, safe in the hands of God” doesn’t mean is living recklessly.  Don’t ignore the common “sense that God gave geese” as the phrase goes.  Don’t ignore the precepts of Scripture, they provide plenty of range to live well dangerously and to keep us from living or even dying stupidly.

What living dangerously also does not mean is living “safely”.  Living “safely” means never taking the risk of believing God or of answering his callings in your life because they might not seem safe or comfortable.  I hope that safe living comes to bore the heck out of each one of us and we learn to be in Christ and live a bit dangerously.

What does it mean to be in Christ on a more micro level – on a day-to-day, moment by moment level.  Well, there are many spiritual disciplines of thought and attitude you can practice for sure – all well worth doing.  But the thing I was churning over last night and again this morning (I’m still writing from yesterday’s early wake-up) was that being in Christ causes us, as John the Baptizer put it, to let him increase and let us decrease – to, in a modern expression, realize that it’s not all about me and it should be all about him.  Imagine this – you’re about to walk into a room or situation filled with people and the messiness of life is there.  How do you approach it “in Christ”?  Consciously and, with practice, then maybe unconsciously you can tune up with some of these conveniently rhyming questions:

Is there an aspect of God’s goodness I can reflect?

Is there someone here to whom and for whom I should connect?

Is there some truth here I can help others to detect?

Is there a lie here I should lead others to reject?

Is there someone’s hurt here I can deflect?

Is there a situation I can positively affect?

(Make up your own questions for “correct”, “respect”, “protect”, “direct”, “expect”, etc.)

Any or all of these can help you decrease and Christ increase as long as you pursue them in his grace and strength.

For to me to live is Christ – it brings depth and meaning and purpose into my life while at the same time lessening that which needs lessening.  Certainly Paul, as he develops his thoughts, recognizes the importance of ministry and calling.  I don’t want to die yet.  I like it that I’m in a place where that I believe God has called me to in a ministry that I enjoy and shows fruit – I think I have some yet to give – but that, of course is my thinking.  I want to grow old with the wife of my youth and to see my kids all walk with the Lord in the paths that God has for them.  In Christ may my life be for as long s it is granted here.

So may we come to say with Paul, “For to me to live is Christ…”  I can’t say it in full confidence yet – there’s along way until I get there but I want to get there.

We’ll get to “death is gain” next time.