The third chapter of that aprocyphal Gospel Alice in Wonderland begins with a bedraggled group of birds, animals, and Alice herself coming out of a pool “wet, cross, and uncomfortable.” How to get dry? The Dodo proposes a Caucus race. “What is a Caucus race,” Alice wondered. Proceeding to demonstrate, the Dodo marked out a circular course and placed the party along it, here and there. All began running and stopping as they liked. After half an hour, all were dry, and the Dodo declared the race over. “Who has won?” the group asked him. After some thought, the Dodo responded that all had won and must have prizes. Prizes? All pointed to Alice, who in despair pulled a box of small candies from her pocket and handed them out. “But she must have a prize herself, you know,” said the Mouse. Searching her pocket once more, Alice found a thimble, which she handed over to the Dodo. Saying, “we beg your acceptance of this elegant thimble,” the Dodo solemnly presented it to her, while the rest of the group cheered.
St. Paul, of course had never heard of a Caucus race, since mathematician Lewis Carroll didn’t write Alice in Wonderland until 1865. But perhaps when he wrote his letter to the Christians in Philippi he had in mind something like a race in which all competed and all won a prize. As the Book of Acts tells us, Paul had founded this Christian community and seems to have maintained a cordial relationship with its members. At the time of writing this letter, he was nearing the end of his life and was in prison, possibly for the last time before his execution in Rome. Fortunately, no great issues seemed to divide the Philippian Christians. Indeed, Paul seems to have written to them chiefly to reassure them that he was well and to thank them for sending him one of their number, a disciple named Epaphroditus. At the same time, Paul knew that there were divisive forces at work in this community. Home to several different ethnic groups, Philippi was a cosmopolitan city. Within the small Christian community, there were those who took pride in their highly valued Roman citizenship, those who took pride in the purity of their Jewish origins, and those who, in joining the Christian way, felt the same kind of antagonism toward Jews that Jews had historically felt toward Gentiles. As Paul reflected on his own life, and the shape his life had taken since his momentous encounter with Jesus on the road to Damascus, he felt called to urge the Philippian Christians to continue to focus on the real goal of their life in Christ, to keep only one goal in mind, that of knowing Christ.
Paul begins here by reminding the Philippians that he himself has the most impeccable pedigree for a Jew, and that “as to righteousness under the law,” he was “blameless.” And yet, Paul tells them, all such markers of human status, whether Roman citizenship, ethnic purity, or visible leadership roles in the church, all such markers of human status are worse than worthless. They are “rubbish,” more exactly “excrement,” or “refuse.” Such markers are meaningless in God’s economy. What is more important, when we focus on our own heritage or accomplishment, we cannot focus on God. When we concern ourselves with the heritage or achievements of others, we cannot fully welcome them into the Body of Christ. The status that Paul prizes – and urges the Philippians to prize – is the righteousness that comes from faith. Paul’s goal in life is not the acquisition of more status symbols. Rather, as he tells them, “I want to know Christ” and share in his sufferings – that is the whole goal of the Christian life. What does “knowing Christ” mean? Knowing Christ means acknowledging what Christ has done for us and accepting Christ’s claim on us. Knowing Christ means becoming as empty of human status as Christ became of divine status and earnestly striving to do Christ’s will in all things. As long as we are in this life, we cannot fully attain this goal of knowing Christ, but, like good athletes, we discipline our bodies, we don’t look behind us, we run the track we are on, and we keep our eye on the prize. We go for the gold remembering that the goal of knowing Christ is the great prize that surpasses anything else we might gain or desire in this life.
So what is the goal that you are pursuing in life? What prize is your eye on? What do we need to leave behind or at least pay less attention to in order to focus more clearly on our goal as Christians? What are the status markers in our lives that keep us from wholeheartedly growing in our knowledge of Christ? Do we need to live in the right neighborhood, buy the right clothes, or vacation in the right places? Do we need to go to the right church or worship with the right liturgy? Do we need to insist on the correctness of our opinions, the rightness of our causes, our need to hear an apology from one who has wronged us, rather than to offer the hand of forgiveness? If we are claimed by Christ, seized by Christ, “marked as Christ’s own forever,” are we pursuing what really matters, paying attention ultimately only to Christ? This Lent we have been asked to engage in the hard work of giving up those things that deflect us from Christ, knowing that, in the end, growth in our life in Christ demands giving up, in the words of T.S. Eliot, “no less than everything?”
My sisters and brothers, this is the reason for anything we do this Lent: to know Christ more deeply. Ultimately, as we run toward that goal, we focus less on what we have given up and more on what we have taken on as we deepen our knowledge of Christ. Although in some sense, our race is a marathon, demanding every ounce of our commitment and energy to finish, in some sense perhaps too our race is a Caucus race. We are all on different parts of the circle. Our lives begin and end at different times. We all run our race according to the gifts and skills that we have been given. Last Wednesday we began thinking about ministry and what our particular gifts for ministry are. As we focus on the prize, perhaps some are gifted in prayer and are called to a more contemplative life. Perhaps those engaged in an active working life are called to pursue that life in a God-centered way, much as Brother Lawrence did in the kitchen of his monastery, daily remembering that God is at work in our lives and knowing that all we do is for the glory of God and can be used by God to bring in God’s Kingdom. For some, keeping our eye on the prize means expanding an existing ministry or taking on a new ministry, for example, finally completing the establishment of St. Peter’s as an Ohio Benefits Bank site. And for some, going for the gold means truly giving up an old life and redefining one’s life in a totally new way.
George Macleod was born in 1895 in Glasgow into a highly respected Scottish family. His grandfather had been a chaplain to Queen Victoria, his father had been a successful politician and business man, and his mother had come from a wealthy and distinguished family. George himself was heir to a baronetcy. Just as he finished his education at Oxford, World War I broke out. George saw service in several war zones. He was so profoundly affected by his wartime experiences that he decided to train for the ministry. Turning his back on wealthy parishes, in 1930 he became minister to a poor parish in Glasgow. There he encountered the effects of poverty on real people’s lives. His devotion to the work was so intense that he suffered a breakdown. Recuperating in Jerusalem, he went to an Orthodox church on Easter Day 1933. There he understood in a new and deeper way that the church was called to be the Body of Christ in the world. Giving up the financial security of a minister’s stipend, in 1938 he founded the Iona Community, an ecumenical community dedicated to social justice. With the help of ministers, students, and unemployed laborers, he restored the historic abbey on the holy island of Iona. Through his efforts the Iona community grew into an international community, with offices in Glasgow and a continuing presence on the Isle of Iona. Though no longer a minister, until his death in 1991 Macleod exercised a profound influence on the Scottish Church. Although some dismissed him, he helped many others to understand the importance of pursuing social justice concerns ecumenically. More importantly, through his founding of the Iona Community he helped develop new forms of ministry outside denominational structures.
Like George Macleod, and like those in the Caucus race, God has called all of us to run the race and win the prize. God has called, seized, marked, gifted, and redeemed all of us. God is always going ahead of us, always doing a new thing. May we too keep our eye on the prize, forgetting what lies behind and pressing forward to the goal of deeper knowledge of Christ.
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