Bethel knows the blessing of unity, and Bethel has known the ache of disunity, division, discord.  We seek unity, but not for the sake of unity: that would be to make unity our God.  The gods of this age are disunity, division, and discord.  The Word we have, to share, is unity for the sake of Christ: unity that comes in Christ through the Spirit.  Our unity has an aim: to live a life, individually and together, worthy of the Gospel (Phil 1:27).

There is much against us; there is that within that is against us.  We see the outbursts, eruptions, and we feel shocked, ashamed, and hurt.  In this season of national discord, you may well feel there are those opposed to what you hold so dearly.  We should try always to remember that it isn’t really people who are against us.  The only thing against us is sin, and everyone shares in that!  Paul urges us to remember and rejoice in the One who is for us.  Though the world were against God, God would overcome; victory is with God.  He has called and claimed us to celebrate His glorious victory, together, with Him.

Together.  Some like being alone.  Some feel it’s not so easy to get along with others, as if you’ve never really been accepted by others.  Perhaps you expected them to accept you on your terms, and that’s a different matter.  We get acceptance and approval confused.  Yet God has called all of us here for life together as the church.  We don’t spend a lot of time together; COVID has plagued the little time we did have together.  When we pray for one another, think of one another, reach out to one another just because, when we care about and serve one another for the sake of Christ, we experience the spiritual dimension of our togetherness: the heart of our true unity, which was never and never can be uniformity of thought, values, and beliefs.  Our biographies are too diverse for that.  Our togetherness is always a work in progress, the fruit of our resolve, in Christ, by the ability of the Spirit, to remain committed to one another.

When times are flush, commitment is easy.  When we don’t spend much time together, commitment is comfortable.  When we keep to our own group within the congregation, commitment costs us very little.  When we don’t spend much time on facebook, it’s easy to remain committed to one another.  There was a time when I was sick of the puppies and kitties; now, I’d be glad to see them!  How ready people are in these times to be wounded, angry, wiser and more moral than others.  We’re so ready to crack, yet let us rather contemplate our own brokenness.  Oh, but why should we, when we have all of them to revile?

God broke Paul for Christ and put him back together for Christ, in the church, through the Spirit.  Here is where God, by the ability of the Holy Spirit, is putting us back together.  When we are broken with one another, accepting each other’s brokenness and, in Christ, forgiving this, we experience the Spirit of unity.  We persevere together when we are broken for one another, I being a broken person for you, you being a broken person for me, accepting each other’s brokenness without approving that brokenness, accepting and forgiving.

Then, here, we strive together in the same Spirit for holiness and renewed obedience.  Here, we commit ourselves together to fostering a shared spirit of perseverance.  We are going through a time of suffering—in addition to the cares and burdens we were already carrying!  Paul has told us that God is at work when we suffer for the sake of the faith (1:29).  We suffer for the faith only if the faith matters to us, more and more, if we are holding to the faith in the face of opposition—opposition from outside us and the opposition from within.  The opposition is one; it is sin.  Without Christ, we have no hope in the struggle against sin.  Without Christ, we’re serving sin, no matter how kindly or righteously.  In Christ, we have salvation, we have victory over sin.  When suffering comes, we know that, in Christ, we have what we need—who we need—to get through it!  We get through it together with Christ, together with one another.

Knowing that we, not just you, not just me, that we are united with Christ is a source of greatest encouragement (2:1).  Knowing the love Christ has for us (2:1), not just you, not just me, but for us, is a source of greatest comfort.  Each of us is a mess, no more or less about it; we make many mistakes, which is a kind (Christian?) way of saying we still sin—each of us have the fracture lines of our brokenness upon us, and we share, together, in the Spirit that draws us together, mending and amending us, together, here.

It can be difficult to discern the Spirit of our unity.  You know it, feel it.  We don’t make it so easy for one another!  What comes at greatest cost is of greatest worth.  When suffering for the sake of the faith comes (as it will, must, in this life), we can have faith that adversity has been granted to us on behalf of Christ for our progress and joy in the faith: progress and joy not just individually but together.

We feel the Spirit of our unity when we have tenderness and compassion for one another (2:1), even when, especially when, we may feel wounded by a brother or sister, by a group, by me, by the congregation or the denomination.  Unity is not our god, and our God calls us to unity.  But we don’t like to be around those who hurt us, do we?  After all, that’s why we spend no time with friends or family.  Well, we’re stuck with them, mostly, but we’re not stuck with one another, are we?

Paul implores the Philippi church to make his joy complete (2:2).  His joy is complete when the church helps him to persevere: he knows he can when he feels assured of the congregation’s progress and joy in the faith.  A large part of that assurance of progress is their ongoing commitment to be the church, together.  Paul tries to model striving and hoping so that the faithful are helped, and their example helps him—it’s mutual: it happens together or it doesn’t happen at all.  When we pledge ourselves to one another, in Christ, in the Spirit, even though we don’t make it so easy for one another, we are fostering a shared spirit of perseverance.  This gets us to the day of Christ, blameless (1:10, 2:15).

Paul urges the faithful to be like-minded (2:2), sharing in the same love for Christ, the same aims, goals, and priorities.  The opposite obviously is not conducive to being the church: dis-united, divided by quite different aims, goals, and priorities.  Jesus says no one can serve two masters (Mt 6:24): it’s God or not God.  Our chief love is either for Christ or for what is not Christ: the world, cravings of the flesh, our precious sense of superiority and indignation.  There’s a story that puts you at the center and there’s God’s truth: we each must decide which of the two to sacrifice, for we cannot serve both.  To serve God is to serve life, freedom, righteousness, is to have salvation, blessing, and eternal joy; to serve the self-serving story is to have delusion unto destruction.  God is the guarantee of truth, the only guarantee.

All we can guarantee ourselves is lost-ness, confusion, and sorrow.  Knowing this, God calls us, seeks us, finds us, and claims us, claims us for Truth.  To talk in this way deeply disturbs the world, deeply offends those who serve the world: of course it does!  We’re told not to judge; we internalize this rapidly; we make that the measure of our discipleship.  We’re told not to judge: what that actually means is to refuse to know right and wrong, good and bad, to shrug and say, “Who knows,” or, “God knows, and who knows God?”

We want to get many things out of this life.  God wants each of us to want most out of life greater knowledge of God and love of God.  He gives the way.  We are each at a different place on this journey, yet, by the Spirit, we not only link arms together on the way, we link hearts.  When we’ve linked hearts, it becomes difficult to do anything “out of selfish ambition or vain conceit” (2:3)—not that any of us do anything like that!

One of the main messages our society sings to us is that no one can be truly happy unless he or she pursues what he or she most desperately wants no matter what anyone says.  Our culture shows us what we are to want most desperately.  The problem isn’t with the desires, of course, only our maddening inability to fulfill them.  And the real source of all our suffering, as we know, is other people: constantly, frustratingly, maddeningly getting in our way.  Jesus, for example.  Jesus says all sorts of things we love to hear, that make us feel special.  Then, if we read much in the Bible, we come across things Jesus says that don’t make us feel special at all, things that sort of make us feel uncomfortable, guilty, rebuked.  We just know that what we crave is good and blessed, no matter what any old book, any old preacher, or any old God says.  And Jesus says many things that question the goodness and blessedness of things we want.  Yet when we accept Jesus Christ, on his terms, we have a friend, a Savior whom we know loves us like no other—rock, shield, my Lord and my God (Jn 20:28).

To pursue selfish ambition (Paul also calls it vain conceit [2:3]) is to work against a shared spirit of perseverance.  Paul commends tenderness, compassion, comfort, encouragement in Christ in the Spirit of unity.  Making yourself and your aims, goals, and desires your highest concern is the opposite of all that.  We’ve all been guilty of it: we want some things so badly, convinced that our true happiness will be found there.  Then we get there only to find we’ve betrayed ourselves, again.  Time to wake up.  We can help one another to stay wakeful and to watch for the Day, but only by a spirit of humility.

“In humility value others above yourselves” (2:3).  Is it possible that your self-serving story isn’t good for you, let alone for others?  Have you considered that pursuing your vain conceit seems to do more harm to your relationships than not?  “In humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others” (2:3).  Well, what kind of way is that to live!?  Your own interests?  Your Father in heaven knows what you need (Mt 6:32).  God shall supply all your need (Phil 4:19).  Have the welfare and blessing of the others in view: this is the way of tenderness and compassion, of comfort and encouragement.  Don’t live looking to get what you can while you can, with minimal concern for others.  Serve others in the name of Christ—especially inside the church, and outside.  Let this be our personal and shared aim.

What are our interests?  Are mine the same as yours?  In Christ, yes.  The Spirit of unity draws us together for fostering shared perseverance, in expectation of the Day of Christ.  This is why Paul commends us, in the church, as the church, to “have the same mindset as Christ Jesus” (2:5).  Jesus did not use his position, his status, for self-advancement, to command others to serve him.  He did not live to get as much as he could as long as he could, with minimal interest in or concern for others.  He emptied himself and was among us, truly, fully human, to guide, to help, to heal, and to serve (2:7).

          He humbled himself.  Was there ever such a humbling before, or since?  From God omnipotent to a common man bound by the constraints of this life!  To labor, to sweat, to be tired, hungry, injured, frustrated, trying to hold on to hopefulness while constantly beating back disappointment.  We know this life! Can I follow Christ’s example of willed humility?  There is that in me that longs to; there is that in me that rebels, that is revolted, that pulls away.  The one who humbled himself followed the way of obedience even to death (2:8).  Can we apply that to our own lives?  Christ’s death was unique, extraordinary: canceling sin, bringing salvation.  Jesus bearing his cross makes and marks the way for us, an example for life.  Christ’s obedience, his faithfulness, meant suffering and death for him: the world is not in love with Jesus Christ; he did not let that dissuade him.  To live is Christ and to die is gain (1:21).

When we live in his way, together, we are putting sin to death daily, daily living for Christ, and gaining Christ, together, as we strive, together, to foster a spirit of shared perseverance to weather the storms, the disappointments, the frustrations, the sorrow, pain, and grief that come in this life.  We win hope, peace, and joy.  Isn’t all this the blessing of the church, what we seek in church: to find the resource we need, that daily bread?  Do we come expecting, requiring approval of our brokenness?  Or do we come, in our brokenness, asking for the acceptance of Christ, acceptance that comes through our mutual tenderness, compassion, comfort, and encouragement, loving one another into the way of Christ, counseling one another into the Word of God, helping one another to find the resolve to remain committed even if, when, we feel hurt by one another—a hard hurt!

Jesus who lived according to such radical obedience, entire faithfulness, is the one whom God exalts to the highest place (2:9-11).  In Christ, God is lifting us there, together.  Our unity is for the sake of Christ, who assures us of the constant presence of his Spirit with those who have resolved to continue, together, committed “to work out your salvation in fear and trembling,” assured that “it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill His good purpose” (2:12-13).  Fear, trembling?  The fear of God is always good, though the way we say it may make it seem mysterious and scary.  We don’t want to displease God; we want God to be happy with us, to take pride in us: Well done, good and faithful servant; enter into the joy of your master (Mt 25:23).  Apart from Christ, pursuing our own way, our self-righteous story, we only displease, dishonor, and deny God.  Though we have quality excuses.

To walk in the fear of the Lord is a biblical way, a very vivid way, of talking about humility, about humbling ourselves.  To humble ourselves is to get things right: it is God who gets us through this life, working in us “to will and to act in order to fulfill His good purpose.”  William Barclay speaks of this fear and trembling as “driv[ing] us to seek God, in the certainty that without his help we cannot effectively face life.”[1]  We say, we pray, we sing, God, what would I do without You?  We tremble, thinking of what we have done, away from Him.  Oh, yes.  The fear, and the trembling.  God, lead me, guide me, help me.  And we have come here, been led here led into the church, here to Bethel, here together.

We all need help.  God will help us.  He is here to help us.  Let us help one another.  We are here to help one another.  God is bringing us to completion, together.  He is with us to help us run this race to the finish.  We are here, perhaps especially, for those who can only walk, barely walk, limp, or just crawl.  The truth is, we’re all limping along—and we’re going, we’re growing.  We have a destination.  We are preparing for something good beyond our imagination.

And to Jesus Christ, who loves us and freed us from our sins by his blood, and made us to be a kingdom, priests of his God and Father, to him be glory and dominion forever and ever.

               [1] William Barclay.  Letters to the Philippians, Colossians, and Thessalonians.  Daily Study Bible.  Philadelphia: Westminster P, 1975.  43.