A man was killed last night on our corner, just steps away from our front door. He was a cyclist cruising downhill on 14th Street, unseen by a driver coming uphill and turning left. And so, the two collided. The EMT’s tried to resuscitate him for at least a half hour, but he died anyway. So, I ask the Lord to receive him into the Kingdom that has been prepared for us in Christ Jesus.
All of this drama impacted how I decided to address today’s reading from Paul’s letter to the Philippians. Continuing our focus on Paul’s letters in this jubilee year of the apostle’s birth, let me put this epistle in context.
Philippi was Paul’s first foray into Europe. Paul had been doing missionary work throughout Anatolia, that is, modern day Turkey. He was an Asian, ministering to Asians; and Asians have a different way of thinking than Europeans. We can see this even today by the European Union’s sluggish delay of Turkey’s application to be a part of the EU.
Asians’ approach to life can be summed up in the word, “we.” Europeans’ approach can be summed up by the word, “I.” So, you’ll notice in Paul’s letter to the Philippians a new degree of intimacy in this letter compared with his letters to the other churches in that part of Asia that included the the Ephesians, the Galatians, and the Colossians.
Today’s selection from this letter, even in the first chapter of Philippians, shows us right away that Paul adjusted to the European way of thinking. He shares his thoughts about his own impending death: “I do not know which I shall choose (or prefer) [life or death]. I am caught between the two. I long to depart this life and be with Christ, for that is far better. Yet that I remain in the flesh is more necessary for your benefit.”
You see, Paul had become so united with Christ that being with the Lord unceasingly made his death not something to be dreaded, but something even to be preferred.
How many of us think this way? Do we not dread the prospect of dying? Do we not tend to put off thinking about our death, even delaying the writing our last will and testament, doing everything we can be look younger than we are, stay healthy even to the point of obsessing about our health? Do we not tend to think of aging as the downhill slope which we do everything we can to avoid? Do we not slip into living a fantasy, or into a state of denial, acting as if I will not die? And then when sickness, or tragedy, or physical or mental diminishment destroys our fantasy, we fill our minds with such thoughts as “Why me?” or “This can’t be happening to me!” or “This is just not fair!” or “I am being cheated!”
How much better, then, is Paul’s approach, which we all would do well to imitate: to be so filled with Christ, to be so in love with Christ, to be so focused on Christ, to be so hungry for Christ, to be so yearning, even pining, for Christ, that death is no longer to be dreaded. Paul says it this way: “Christ will be magnified in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me life is Christ, and death is gain.”
To me life is Christ, and death is so much gain. This is the theme for life that, if we embrace it, will transform our interpretation of all of life’s joys and all of life’s hardships: one way or another, Christ will be magnified in whatever condition I find myself in. Because for me everything in life is connected with my love of Christ and His love for me. Jesus Christ is the meaning of my life, the goal of my life, the substance of my life.
Which brings us back to the man who was killed last night in the middle of our intersection. Let’s allow his death to trigger a new desire to be even closer to the Lord, for we do not know when such a thing could happen to us. And let this man’s death prompt within us a desire so such a closeness to our Lord that we begin to see our death as the climax of our lives and not as the end. Let us see death the way we see the autumn leaves: beautiful, even more so than in the springtime of life. Why, because we are getting closer and closer to being with Christ, “for that is far better,” even as we remain in the flesh so as to serve those whom the Lord puts in our lives.