Amherst Community Church

            In worship this month we’ve been dabbling in Paul’s letter to the Philippians. It’s a book of the Bible that I’ve committed to studying in depth, on the theory that it would be good not only to read widely in the scriptures but to go deeply in spots. Besides, Philippians is only four chapters long – how hard can it be to go deep there?

            Still pretty hard, actually. It’s a beautiful letter, rich in pastoral overtones for this church for which Paul seems to have had a special fondness. But it’s also theologically dense in places, a hallmark of Paul’s writing. Wonderful writing, but not fast reading.

            So we’ve talked about Paul’s exhortation to set our minds to the true, honorable, just, pure, commendable etc. things of the world (3:8); we’ve played with the idea of emptiness as a spiritual virtue (2:5-11); and this Sunday we’ll consider our spiritual kinship with those whose Christian beliefs don’t square with ours (1:15-18a).

            But here’s an outtake, something that hasn’t made it into our little sermon series. I’m struck by the minutiae of this letter, the names and situations that Paul raises up. We’re used to thinking of the Bible as great wisdom literature, great history, great poetry; we imagine the church fathers pulling on their white beards and deciding, with God’s inspiration, what gets in and what is shut out as they compiled the canon of scriptures.

            And yet in Philippians Paul does these things: talks about how he ended up in prison; cautions these church members not to “murmur and argue”; tells them that he hops to send his friend Timothy to visit them; tells them that he’s also sending his “fellow soldier” Epaphroditus, who has been sick lately; urges two women who are leaders in the church, Euodia and Syntyche, to start getting along; and thanks them for sending him a little money.

            It just strikes me how mundane and everyday are these passages from one of the greatest letters ever written. Letter-writing has mostly fallen victim to e-mail and Facebook these days, but we’re still trading in the currency of everyday life. Just like Paul – St. Paul to you. God works in grand and mysterious ways, but God is there as well when we decide what to have for lunch.