Who Do You Most Resemble - Feb. 28, 2010

WHO DO YOU MOST RESEMBLE?
Philippians 3:17 – 4:1
 
 
 
It’s a five-question quiz, popular on web sites such as Facebook. It will take you less than two minutes and will tell you which dead president shares your pessimism or which comic book superhero has everything in common with you or which Bible character you most closely resemble.
 
It seems a bit ironic that such things are so popular in a culture that upholds and even idolizes the idea of individuality. But the truth is, we are creatures of conformity, imitators of the world around us. Imitation is how we learn to be human on every level. We learn to speak and walk by imitating our parents. Later in life we create our own “unique” identity by imitating our teenage friends in high school and following our particular clique in college. Finally, we set certain people in our profession on a pedestal and mimic their movements. And, of course, we imitate our spouse. Why else do so many older, married couples look alike?
 
Many of the things we conform to are innocent, such as a Southern drawl or the way one holds a fork. But others have lasting ramifications. Our work ethic, our attitude toward family, and even our church attendance are things we pick up from others. Even really nasty things such as some sinful habit or a heart of discontent and cruelty can be the byproduct of bad conformity to someone around us.
 
We are what we imitate. Each of us is a mosaic of influences resembling many people in our past and present. This understanding gives great weight to the words of Paul in the book of Philippians, chapter 3. The apostle gives a loving but firm command. It’s one we’ve heard him offer time and again in his letters to the church. Paul writes, “Brothers and sisters, join in imitating me, and observe those who live according to the example you have in us.”
 
Paul asks us to be imitators. He acknowledges that we are creatures of conformity. What Paul is telling the Philippians – what he’s telling us – is simply this: “You’re going to copy. You’re going to mimic someone’s steps and mirror someone’s movements when it comes to learning this Christian life. That’s what we do as human beings. So if you’re going to imitate somebody, go ahead and imitate me. Follow me as I follow Jesus.”
 
In fact, Paul goes even further. He tells us that whenever we see people upholding the confession of the gospel he has handed down and exhibiting the Christ-focused, cross-loving style of faith and life that he has modeled among the early churches, we should keep our eyes locked on that person. Why? So that like a child absorbing every move from his or her parent, we might learn to live from that model. Imitation is the key to the Christian life.
 
 
 
 
All of this leads to a few questions. First, whom are you imitating? From whom are you learning what it means to live as a follower of Jesus in this messed-up world? Second, who is imitating you? If you have children, this one is easy to answer. But your sphere of influence extends beyond the home. Who in your life knows that you’re a Christian and thereby, whose understanding of Christianity is influenced by your words, your actions and your attitude? Who is learning from you? That’s a scary one, isn’t it?
 
The Scriptures tell us that as we imitate the likes of Paul, as we learn from the faith and life of our baptized brothers and sisters around us, the end result isn’t a bunch of little Christian clones, but a community of people who resemble Christ. In his incarnation and earthly ministry, Jesus not only assumed the role of our Savior by taking our sin as his own on the cross and defeating the power of death in his resurrection, but in his living and breathing, in his walking and talking, in his healing and loving and perfect commandment keeping, he also became our example. The God-human Jesus Christ demonstrated for the world what it means to be fully human: to be right with God, filled with the Holy Spirit, and completely in step with the rhythms and patterns of life in our created world.
 
Romans tells us that all those who are baptized into his name are not only forgiven of sins, right with God, and filled with the Spirit, but have also embarked on a lifelong journey of being “conformed to the image” of Jesus. That is, we will slowly but surely start acting like him, loving like him, and resembling him. One of the primary ways this happens is through imitation. By imitating one another in the faith, we begin to resemble and reflect the object of our faith, Jesus Christ. For those who like big, theological words, another way to put it is that imitation is the key to our sanctification.
 
Here is what this looks like. Let’s say you’re a mom who takes Scripture’s commands seriously and aims for obedience to God’s word in everything you do at home or at work. Your daughter imitates you as she starts a family of her own. Together, you resemble – not duplicate – the perfect obedience of Jesus the Son to God. Or perhaps your best friend has all the talent in the world but at every turn gives the glory to God. You imitate him. Together, you resemble the humility of Christ. Christians recite the ancient creeds of the faith. You, too, speak and believe these words. In doing so, you resemble Christ, from whose lips flow grace and truth.
 
Human beings are creatures of conformity; we are inherent imitators. The question is not if your life will resemble someone else’s, but whose life yours will resemble. Knowing this, let us embrace the instruction found in the third letter of John: “Dear friend, do not imitate what is evil, but what is good.”
 
And let us not forget that the cross is always central in the concept of imitating Christ. Paul says that there are those who embrace the cross of Christ as friends, and those who by their lives and witness, turn away from the cross as enemies.
 
 
 
 
 
As of now, there’s no quick, five-minute quiz that can tell us how well we’re doing in becoming like Christ. But you can simply take a quick glance at what’s in front of you and a short look at things behind you. Whose footsteps are you following in today? Who is walking in yours? Chances are, you’ll be convicted by what you see – or by what you don’t see.
 
But take heart. If you don’t like what’s in front of you or the things behind that resemble you, simply look to the cross at our Savior and example, Jesus Christ. He has graciously forgiven you already. Now go and do the same.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
I read of a Muslim who was visiting a small Trappist monastery in Northern Africa. As the monastery’s prior took his guest, an old friend, on a tour, they came to the small chapel. Muslims typically find depictions of the crucifixion scandalous and deeply disrespectful of Jesus, whom they revere as one of God’s great prophets, but the visitor was deeply moved by the monastery cross. The prior asked his Islamic friend what he saw in the cross.
 
“I see maybe three crosses, here, certainly two. There is the cross in front and the cross in the back. The cross in front – formed by the extended arms of Jesus – was created by God. It is the cross of embracing love.”
 
The second cross he saw, the Muslim said, was the cross behind Jesus, the wooden one made by humans. “This cross was an instrument of hatred, for disfiguring love. It was not nails that attached Jesus to the cross we carved for him; it was love. And it is love which draws us to him when he pardons his executioners.”
 
The prior could see that, certainly. But what is this third cross?
 
This third cross, the Muslim wondered aloud, is between the two crosses. “Isn’t it perhaps you and I struggling together to loosen ourselves from the cross of evil and sin behind, so that we can bind ourselves to the cross of love in front? Isn’t the struggle of moving from war to peace, from hatred to love, a third cross?
 
Today’s liturgy confronts us with the three crosses recognized by the observant Muslim.
 
We are moved by the first cross, the cross that is Jesus himself embracing our own sorrows and brokenness in the love of God.
 
We stand censured by the second cross, the cross we construct – crosses of hatred and selfishness on which we crucify one another.
 
We are called to embrace the spirit of the humble, compassionate Christ and take up the third cross – the work of dismantling and leaving behind the crosses we have made in order to be transformed by the love of God made real for us in the cross of Christ.