For many live as enemies of the cross of Christ; I have often told you of them, and now I tell you even with tears.  Their end is destruction; their god is the belly; and their glory is in their shame; their minds are set on earthly things.

                                                --Philippian 3:18-19

We all love a good comeback story—so long as the tale involves somebody else.  When the journey is ours, however, the writing of each chapter proves difficult, often leading us to look for a new Editor. 

Some of you may remember the popular series of “Choose Your Own Adventure” books back in the 1980s.  By design of the series, young readers got to make decisions, frequently skipping past the uninteresting parts of the book and turning directly to the given page of one’s choice for its conclusion.  If you didn’t like that outcome, you just flipped back to the previous section and try a different path.  No harm, no foul.  I miss those books.  They were my introduction to fiction. 

The 3rd chapter of Paul’s letter to Philippi offers us a very different glimpse of reality.  It is here that Paul engages the alternative theme of “pressing on.”  Stop worrying about the past, he says.  Press on to the goal of the heavenly prize, even when you only get to turn one page at a time.

Much like a scene straight out of Hoosiers or Rudy, this rousing exhortation challenges the early Christians to leave it all out there on the mission field.  The life of faith is no stranger to adversity, he says.  No one ever said this was going to be easy.  The time has come to dig deep and to hold fast.  Remember who we are in Christ.  Everything else—your plans, your pomp, and your circumstance—is worthless by comparison to the way of Jesus.  Sacrifice yourselves, people!  He died for you!  The least you can do is to put yourself out there and block for him!

Good gracious.  Can you tell I’m missing sports?

Nevertheless, it’s a great speech—one of those where the first time you hear it, you are sure you can do anything.  God forbid that I should glory, says the Apostle except in the cross of my Jesus.  Amen!  But what if you are hearing this pep talk for the second or third time?  It may begin to lose its luster.  What if you thought it was a halftime speech, only to discover later that the given contest was still in the first quarter?  What difference would that make in your attitude?  Does it matter to know how much time is left on the clock?   

I have heard from other mental health professionals who have referred to this condition as the “3^rd quarter.”  It’s when you think the contest is about over only to find that the opponent will not go away.  We can see this scenario play itself out in our own communal struggle to respond adequately to the unrelenting persistence of this pandemic.  Win or lose, most of us are ready to call it a day and move on.  As hard as it is for most of us to accept, however, this challenge refuses to let us go on our own terms.  I heard one man claim that he was ready to put some candy out by his front door, eat a turkey sandwich for dinner, open some presents before bed, kiss his wife at midnight and then welcome 2021 the next morning. 

As if to say, “enough already.  Just blow the whistle.”

In our lesser moments of isolation and spiritual darkness, perhaps we can all identify with this sentiment.  Paul was certainly aware of this temptation.  Right after his motivational monologue, he acknowledges the many in the community of Philippi who will sheepishly settle to graze amongst the produce of a lesser god.  Driven by their own appetite for comfort, convenience, and the sweet taste of individual freedom, they lay down the cross and head straight for a crown of their own choosing.

This is not a new road, mind you, but simply an old road in new territory.  Yes, there are days when I would like to push the fast-forward button on 2020 and “get on with it.”  We’re at the midway point of the year and already it feels like double overtime. 

And then there are days when I am able to reimagine all that God may be doing in this present moment, with the immediate attention of the entire world.  Occasionally, with the slight breeze of Pentecost still lingering in the summer heat, the Spirit blows and breathes new life into concerned lungs.  Surely such hope does not disappoint us.  Granted, I do not see the end of this struggle clearly as of yet, but the very thought of Christ’s perseverance in the face of suffering inspires me to press on with each and every chapter.

In the collection of Consoling Thoughts on Trials of An Interior Life, Saint Francis de Sales inspires me further with his use of imagery and instruction. 

“Plant the cross of Jesus Christ crucified in your heart, and all the crosses of this world will appear to you as so many roses.  Those who have been pierced with the crown of Our Lord, who is our head, can scarcely ever feel any other thorns.”

In reflection, I must confess all the times I have elected to disregard the respective cross which is given to me and exchange it for a figurative fork, knife, and a spoon.  I have also found that when your god is your belly (as mine often is), then wearing a mask can really impede your worship (not to mention that it will also cramp your sense of style).  But if wearing a simple mask is asking too much of me or you for the love of God and neighbor, then Paul suggests than neither the cross or crown of Christ is likely to be a comfortable fit either.           

Why is ‘pressing on’ such an initial pain?  Why do we struggle with this so?  Perhaps it is when we realize the thorns that must be worn on the way to redemption.

So at what point does our glory become our shame? 

Lord Jesus…

Forgive us the time we have settled for the kingdom of our own making, for the paltry version of the Kingdom of God yet to come.  Might we respond to your call of love and justice with wisdom and discipline.  Grant us your patience, O God.  Help us to heed your words.  AMEN.

Grace to You,

Darren