Sunday, September 28, 2014

Running on Empty




Psalm 145:1-7, Philippians 2:1-13

            There are many ways to describe what emptiness means.   What first comes to your mind?
            We all have to address the ever present “E,” the one on our vehicle dashboards.   The one constantly guzzling everything we feed it and at significant cost.  This empty is fueled by fear … fear that it’ll run out and that our schedule, and perhaps even our lives, will be in jeopardy.   This emptiness is a very practical matter that can usually be managed very well.
            Somewhat related, of course, is the sensation that our stomach is empty.   Hunger is certainly an empty feeling.   It indicates that our bodies need to be refueled.  If done so in a healthy, high grade way, this emptiness can be held off for a long while.   If filled with cheap, low grade fuel … then there is very little lasting benefit.
            At home, Stefanie and I now use a refillable K-cup to reduce household and world waste.   But this means each time we go to brew, we need to empty the soggy coffee grounds into a small container we keep next to the Keurig.   This then gets dumped outside where it participates in natural organic processes.   Emptiness, in this case, means making room for the next daily grind, while also taking seriously our part in the stewardship of God’s good creation.  
            Google has a wonderful software application called Skymap.  You open it, hold your phone up to sky at night and it reveals in graphic form all of the constellations and planets right above and all around you.   It’s been tremendous fun to use.   Yet even though so much gets identified, I always notice all of the unknowable empty space.   I wouldn’t want it all filled up.  This emptiness is inviting.  It’s mysterious and stirs my imagination.  It reminds me that we’re all an important but really miniscule part of an eternally deep reality. 
            Depending on my mood, though, some nights the emptiness of night sky can cause me to feel a bit lost and alone.    That’s another kind of emptiness we experience, isn’t it?   The emotional kind that causes us to feel hollow and isolated.  Even the loving, abiding presence of God can seem in a much different galaxy during such times.  
             This is what I think most folks would consider “spiritual emptiness.”  It’s an emptiness that gnaws at our soul, hungry for a truly substantial and life-sustaining feast of faith.   It’s the emptiness that gives us great grief as it yearns to be made completely whole.   
            I’m talking about the kinds of emptiness because it is at the epicenter of this morning’s passage from Philippians.  Not just the center, the epicenter, as in where everything shifts and triggers seismic waves of sacred truth all across the landscape of our Christian faith.             What makes this teaching about emptiness most powerful is that it’s about filling up by emptying out.   Only by emptying out can we have the energy needed to go out fill up the world with the love of Jesus Christ.
            If this sounds confusing, it’s because in our culture we mostly understand fulfillment as something we develop by and for ourselves.  We develop our character, our abilities, our achievements.    We value the constant striving to fulfill our dreams.    If managed well, this is healthy.   If managed poorly, however, it can make us sinfully fat with personal pride.   Self-fulfillment becomes our god.    And this god ultimately fails us because it runs strongly on the stale gasoline and junk food of fear, distrust, anger, apathy, and prejudice.
            The Apostle Paul knew how destructive this kind of fulfillment was to the mission of the Church.   And running on it was especially damaging to the church in ancient Philippi.  This was a congregation in the city founded by Philip, the father of Alexander the Great.   He had done so around 368 B.C. because he believed there was “no more strategic site in all of Europe” with its “chain of hills” which divided Europe from Asia, east from west.    The city was settled in a dip between these hills, and so it had command of the roadways.   It is said that the powerful future of the Roman Empire was decided after Marc Antony won a decisive victory in Philippi.[i] 
            The Apostle Paul fully knew the strategic importance of Philippi to spreading the victorious message of the Gospel far and wide.   Acts 16 tells of Paul’s establishing the congregation there by helping our Lord open the hearts of three different people of three different nationalities and three different grades of society.   Church diversity and inclusivity was a hallmark from the start. 
            He was in a Roman prison when he wrote the letter we know as Philippians.   It’s a letter of thanksgiving and of encouragement for the external trials that congregation was living through.  It’s also a letter that addresses some significant conflict within the congregation.
            Now let’s imagine ourselves in Paul’s leadership shoes.  You are writing while languishing in prison under the reign of Emperor Nero, awaiting what historical evidence suggests was a beheading.   Talk about a horrifyingly empty situation to be in.    What words would you have offered to help keep the church running well?   To faithfully refill and refuel the Body of Christ as conflict worked hard to empty it of hope, love, peace and unity?  
            It was not a time for fast food and low-grade fuel!   Not a time for self-help catch phrases and self-improvement strategies.   It wasn’t time to waste precious energy by empowering his brothers and sisters in the faith to take up arms against the Romans or cast out church members with whom there was tension.
             It was time to fill any and all emptiness threatening the heart of the faithful community with just one thing – the example of Jesus.             And what life-sustaining strength did Jesus demonstrate as he was being put to death by world power?   He emptied interest in himself and deprived himself of his power so that he could minister to the needs of others and fulfill the divine plan of salvation.   
            In that prison cell, deeply concerned for his Philippian friends, Paul lived for Christ by running on empty.  He emptied himself of his pride, selfish ambition, thoughts of self-advancement.  He emptied himself of his fears.   In doing so, he was then able to fill up on the trust, energy, joy and passion for justice that comes from humbly looking after the welfare of the whole community of God’s children just as Jesus had modeled.   This is the “love that burns with the desire for the flourishing of others, a love whose joy can be made complete only when all are included.”[ii]    Paul exhorted his friends to have the mind and love of Christ by cultivating the bonds of unity for the greater good … especially in the midst of unholy worldly oppression.   His joy would be complete, he would die a happy man, if they would run on empty too.  This is the ultimately indestructible joy of living in and for the Lord.
            Across the years of your life, in what ways have you run on empty for the sake of filling and unifying the world with the love of Jesus?       How has this been modeled throughout the life of Fairmount Presbyterian Church?   
            What needs emptying in your heart and mind today so you can live a more faithfully fulfilling life in the global company of Christ?  
             Is there a person in your life that is a role model for how emptiness, from a Christian perspective, is filled with love for God and for one another?
            I ask these questions as I run on empty here at the end of this sermon …   Amen.
           
           
                       
           
                       
           
           
                         
           


[i] William Barclay, The Daily Study Bible Series, The Letters to the Philippians, Colossians, and Thessalonians, p. 3
[ii] William Greenway, Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 4

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