Over the next several months, we will be reading someone else's mail. I say that as sort of a creative way to refer to the fact that this New Testament book, this epistle to the Philippians, really is a letter from the apostle Paul to the local church that he had started in the city of Philippi.
But in another sense, I say that because, you read the opening paragraphs of this letter, and you get a sense that there's this deep, personal connection between Paul and the Philippians. To me, I read these opening words...and it's like I'm peering into this tender exchange, this honest expression of love and longing between Paul and this group of people, this little local church.
How does the resurrection make a difference on a Wednesday? When I'm bored at school? When I'm grocery shopping at Trader Joe's? Or languishing at a mundane job I only endure for the paycheck? Now we can have a fine time today kicking around some theology of the resurrection, or maybe naming two or three proofs for the resurrection, but I want to take it out of the clouds and drop it into a typical Wednesday. How does the resurrection matter on a Wednesday? How does it bring hope in the real world where we are actually living in 2024?
"Our first priority as the church is not to make all these things happen in the world through political action, but to be a prophetic witness to the hope of a world remade according to Christ." Brian Zahnd
Too often, we sink our chips into politics and try and make the society righteous. But as the church, we are the ones who are to be the righteous society in the larger society... So wherever Kingdom values, ethics, and principles drive our voting, they should drive our actions within our own church toward one another, and then out from there. Caring for the poor—in our church... Loving the immigrants—in our church... Helping mothers who are contemplating an abortion. Helping mothers heal who have had an abortion. Adopting children. Helping at-risk children. Helping sinners find forgiveness.
We should be helping one another transform. Helping one another break free from the shackles of shame. We should be visiting prisoners. We should be sharing financial resources to do Kingdom work. Connecting skills with needs. Helping people get out of personal debt. Helping people find jobs... Forgiveness, reconciliation, transformation, grace, goodness, shalom. Being the church.
Politics—if we think of the fullest definition of it—has to do with how we live together, and how we relate to each other in the various communities that we are in. It has to do with the values and the principles that govern our communities and relationships and common life together.
And today's topic is "Incarnational Politics." It might seem like a strange phrase.
What it means is simply in-the-flesh politics. Hands-getting-dirty kind of politics that rejects ideology from a distance and embraces a politics of presence. A politics of showing up, and being with, and listening to, and seeking to do something about. Face-to-face conversations with people who think differently, especially with those within our own families and within our own church. Stepping toward political tension to unwind the antagonism and foster relationship. Incarnational politics means taking action on the various issues that we care about. It means living out our politics in the local settings that we inhabit, where we can actually make a difference. Could it be that what we care about and believe is reflected more by the actions we take in our local context than by the circle we darken on our presidential ballot?
[Note: This podcast includes an interview with Michael Zacharia, former White House executive and international consultant and professor on conflict resolution for large companies and countries.]
I have to tell you lately, I've been taken with the phrase, "The center is different than the middle." Think about that from the perspective of a follower of Jesus. The middle is neutral political ground to avoid conflict and make everyone happy. But for the Christian, the center is the starting point for healthy discussion and debate. And the center is King Jesus and the way of His Kingdom. Our calling is faithfulness to Him. Will we let the Kingdom bend our politics?
Matthew 22 says, 'The greatest commandment is to love God and love our neighbor.' That's an excellent guide for a Kingdom approach to politics. In our Matthew chapter 5 passage, Jesus says, "love your neighbor and pray for those who persecute you." Another excellent guide to a Kingdom approach to politics. A couple of weeks ago, we talked about this term "cruciform," that is, in the form of a cross. That is, a cross-shaped politic that serves and sacrifices for others. Another excellent guide for political engagement.
But notice something. Self is nowhere near the center of a Kingdom approach to politics. What's best for me. My rights. What I want. What will make my life better—are not the priorities of the Kingdom way.
God says in the first of the ten commandments these words, "I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery. You shall have no other Gods before me." And a few verses later in the second commandment, God continues the theme, "You shall not misuse the name of the Lord your God, for the Lord will not hold anyone guiltless who misuses His name." These commandments prohibit idolatry. Not exactly an everyday word in our lexicon...
But idolatry is taking a good thing and making it an ultimate thing. Idolatry is giving Godlike status to something or someone that isn't God, whether it be a person, an ideology, an institution, or whatever. An idol is anything or anyone we ultimately look to, lean on, or trust more than God for security, provision, hope, our identity, or peace...
We're in week three of our "Let The King Descend" series where we're considering politics and the way of Jesus, and when this series first began to percolate, I knew if we were going to deal with politics authentically, then we had to talk about idolatry. Because in our time, and maybe in every time, politics is a rival God that is not content in the second chair. It wants to slither its way into the first chair. So politics can become an idol, and I believe politics has become an idol in the souls of many well-meaning Christians...From my chair, I believe many Christians—to the right politically and to the left politically—have put their hope in political power...
A few years ago, somebody said to me, "Are you trying to turn us into a left-leaning church?" And I said, "No, I'm trying to pry the idol of politics out of our hands." So today, I hope to once again double down on Jesus Christ as King, and His Kingdom as ultimate reality. And in doing so, put politics in its place.
A crucified God is at the center of our faith, and this image gives us a vision of power that is upside-down from Rome's, Jerusalem's, Washington D.C.'s, or any other place of power. Jesus' life was cross-shaped even before He went to the cross. It was a life of service and sacrifice. Jesus said at the end of Matthew 28, "All authority in heaven and on earth belongs to me." But Philippians 2 says, "Jesus did not consider equality with God something to be used to His own advantage, so He humbled Himself, took the very nature of a servant, and became obedient to death on a cross."
If you're wondering, that's Jesus' politics. The fancy word is Cruciform—a lived-out politic in the shape of a cross and shaped by the cross.
So what does that all mean? At a minimum, it means raw humility. At a minimum, it means a politic that is other-centered. A politic that seeks to love neighbor.
Here's a sampling of His politics. Love God and love neighbor. Love your enemies. Pray for those who make your life miserable. Don't give anger a foothold. Give to the needy. Defend the cause of the helpless. Store up treasures in heaven. When you're insulted, don't retaliate. Heal the sick. Tear down the dividing walls of hostility. Forgive as God has forgiven you. Defend the cause of the helpless. Right the wrongs of society. Do justice. Love mercy. Walk humbly with God.
The church, from the very beginning, was designed to be a community of "Unlikes," a community of "Differents." There is a palpable tension in the New Testament around the inclusion of the Gentiles in the early church. Christianity was born out of the Jewish faith, and there came points along the way where there was pressure to let Gentiles be part of it. But God's plan—from the very beginning—was for Jewish and Gentile Christians to worship together, and do life together, and sort out the tensions and disagreements together, in the shadow of the cross and in the shadow of an abundant communion table.
Now, the dislike and hatred between these two groups cannot be overstated. Let me put it this way: If the Jew-Gentile tension was a great Dane, the Democrat-Republican tension is a toy poodle. It doesn't compare. God's plan was to pull them together as one people united under King Jesus to witness to a chaotic world how powerful and good He is.
The church is supposed to be a society of different people who are seeking first the Kingdom of God, and navigating everything—including political chaos—in a way that is in sharp contrast to how it's done everywhere else. So we're talking about politics because we, Oak Hills Church, have a marvelous opportunity to demonstrate who Jesus really is, and sort out the political tensions and disagreements in the shadow of the cross and in the shadow of an abundant communion table.
Paul says it clearly: Jesus ascended to the right hand of God the Father far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every name that is invoked in this world or in any world, and God placed all things under his feet. In short, Jesus is King.
If all things are under his feet, then no thing is more powerful than him, no thing compares to him. All this means is that even in the chaos, uncertainty, fear, worry, anxiety, tension, of our world, our nation, or maybe of our lives, all of it is under his feet.
But in the metrics of the Kingdom, this means we might not thrive, we might not win, we might not succeed, we might not survive. Because thrive, win, succeed, survive, are metrics of the kingdom of humans, not necessarily metrics of the Kingdom of God. So the invitation to you and me is to open our hands and surrender. Open our hands and trust.
Our church's mission statement is written in fancy metal letters—on the wall, in the lobby, over the water fountain, next to the coffee bar. It reads, "To invite people to experience the reality of life in the Kingdom of God."
What we're talking about the next two weeks—God the King and His Kingdom—is foundational and essential to the Christian faith. It is foundational and essential to the whole Christian story. In fact, a strong case can be made that the Kingdom of God is the Bible's favorite subject and primary theme. And in profound and incredibly practical ways, what we're talking about over the next two weeks can actually be a game changer in how we view God, how we live out our faith, how we discern the purpose for our lives, how we navigate through the various struggles in life, how we endure the brokenness and chaos of this world, how we endure the upcoming Presidential election, how we face our own death, and how we think about eternity. It's that important.