OASIS March 16, 2025

Welcome

Hymn: God Whose Love Is Reigning O’er Us

Scripture and the Good Word: Philippians 3: 17–4:1 (Dual Citizenship)

Hymn: We’ve a Story to Tell to the Nations

Benediction

Bible Study

Philippians 3: Deep Dive

Contextualizing and Absorbing the Text

The Obvious

Philippians 3:2 is one of the most quoted of all Bible verses in America. It’s opening words are printed out and nailed to fences and tree trunks everywhere:  “Beware of the dogs.”  

But of course, Paul has people in mind, not four-legged canines. And the topic Paul is driving at isn’t property protection, it’s circumcision.  It was the hot argument of his day.  Are Christians subject to all the laws—including circumcision—mentioned in the Old Testament?  In other words, should Christians be required to be practicing Jews? 

When it comes to being a practicing Jew, Paul argues that he has “been there, done that.” In fact, no Jew has better credentials than him.  (vv. 4-6)  But then he suddenly swerves away from his accomplishments and credentials: “Yet whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss.”  He notes that his stellar adherence to Jewish rites actually delayed his discovery of true life, joy, and goodness. Paul argues that a legalistic approach to religion and life is essentially a “wrong turn.” A legalistic mindset waylays a person from the worthiest goals in life.  

Paul goes on in this chapter to couple legalism with hedonism (vv. 18-19) and asserts that both approaches to life are mere illusions—they do NOT lead to fulfillment or the good life.  In Paul’s thinking, both self-righteousness and self-indulgence are ultimately destructive, of both the individual and the society.  Both choices shut God out of our lives and lead to misery.

Therefore, when Paul was converted to Christianity, he renounced his former legalism, and even celebrates its loss.  He viewed his former legalism as rubbish—something necessary to toss out.  

Paul then writes of a new form of “righteousness” that is found in Jesus Christ.  (vv. 7-11)  This is not a righteousness that comes from passing those litmus tests demanded by the self-righteous.  Rather, this righteousness evolves out of holistic faithfulness to the spirit and ways of Jesus. 

For Paul, the death and resurrection of Jesus are central benchmarks of this new righteousness. Interpreting Jesus’ death and resurrection as metaphors for our own lives, we surrender our past obsessions with self-righteousness and self-indulgence.  Such surrender is how we participate in the death of Jesus.  Then we find ourselves miraculously awakened in a new day, with new strengths and possibilities—in this life—a sample of our resurrection.

Paul confesses that he himself has not yet experienced full resurrection, but just partial.  The mind of Christ is fully within him, influencing him, changing him.  But he has not fully arrived yet.  He is still pressing on, forgetting what lies behind, straining forward, with his eyes on the prize yet to be gained.  

Finally, Paul mentions “citizenship.”  It is only briefly mentioned, but is evocative.  We are left to ponder the meaning of “heavenly citizenship.”  Is this simply a pie-in-the-sky notion?  A tease of the after-life?  An escapism?  Or is it a powerful way of knowing ourselves differently in this life?

The Less Obvious

First, let’s start with the dogs (v. 2)  Let me apologize in advance to all dog-lovers out there.  In 2024, dog owners in the U.S. spent $90 billion on their pet dogs.  This is more than three times the annual budget for USAID.  We have our priorities.  But back in Paul’s time, dogs were about as popular as mosquitoes. Faithful Jews thought that dogs were more unclean than pigs.  Dogs were considered shameful in their behavior and filthy in their scavenging.  Paul really, really had a problem with you if he called you a “dog.”

So, who are these dogs?  It turns out that they are promoters of circumcision.  The first Christians were split in hot debates over the issue of circumcision:  should you or shouldn’t you?  In Paul’s day, circumcision was a required surgery for all Jewish males. It was generally done right after birth, at an age when guys could neither articulate nor remember any anguish. By the time a fellow was old enough to talk, however, the recipients became more resistant.  But it remained a necessity for men and boys who would convert to Judaism.  (The religion found other, more on-going ways of making life miserable for women.)

Circumcision was such an accepted practice among Jews that it had long ceased to be debatable.  The first Christian men were all Jewish, and so all had already been circumcised. Everyone just assumed that Christians should be circumcised too.  Because Jews and Christians had the same sense of God, the same ethic of neighborliness, and the same belief that rules mattered—some thought that the distinguishing rules of Judaism should be appropriated to non-Jewish converts without argument:  circumcision, dietary laws, sexual moral codes, etc.  

But when Christianity began to spread to the non-Jewish populations around the Mediterranean Sea, old assumptions began to fray.  Christians such as Paul said ‘not so fast.’  Let’s sort through the “requirements” one at a time to make sure none of the rules diminish the grace and humanitarianism of Jesus.

Thus Paul came to the conclusion that Christians should toss out the requirement for circumcision. He sided with Old Testament writers who believed that the most important thing was the life-changing metaphorical circumcision of the heart, not the one-and-done circumcision of the flesh.  (Deuteronomy 30:6; Jeremiah 9:25)  Paul felt so strongly about this argument that he called his opponents “dogs.”                

The larger debate—over rules for being a Christian—continues to our own day: what is righteousness and how do we become righteous? For both Jesus and Paul, the definition of “righteousness” was the opposite of how the Pharisees of their day defined it. 

Despite their sincerity, the ancient Pharisees were prone to self-justification and hypocrisy.  They are the forerunners of today’s political correctness and Christian nationalism. If transported in a time machine to the 21st century U.S.A., some Pharisees would identify as liberal, some as conservative.  None of them would offer the other side much respect or understanding. Then and now, those who focus on the letter of the law (the letter of liberalism, the letter of conservatism) are more likely to subvert the way of Jesus.  On the other hand, those who are rooted in the spirit of the law (the spirit of liberalism, the spirit of conservatism) are more likely to bear the fruit of goodness in our world.  When Paul calls on “those who are mature to be of the same mind,” (v. 15) we might say that coming to the same mind means going deeper into the spirit of whatever spiritual or religious beliefs we have.  It is in the depths of the spirit we find unlikely connections with our opponents.  

For Paul, the spirit of circumcision led to abundant life and community.  On the other hand, those who insisted on literal genital surgery were disgusting—”dogs.”

Second, those who read Philippians 3 without the context of the full epistle miss some of the nuances.  The ancient city of Philippi was located in present day Greece, along the northern shore of the Aegean Sea, along a busy trade route that connected Rome with Byzantine.  Paul helped found a church there and kept in close touch with them over the years—through visits, letters, and envoys.  

The Christians in Philippi had their struggles. In this epistle, Paul only generalizes when addressing those troubles.  But there is internal conflict and there are people in both the surrounding area and other Christians who are causing the church folks great stress. Paul’s letter is an encouragement to stay positive and discipline their thinking so they won’t be brought low.  When followers of Jesus find ground where they can stand together, they will not be intimidated.  And the refusal to be intimidated is the secret to victory.  

Jouette Bassler, in her introduction to Philippians in The New Interpreter’s Study Bible suggests that this letter provides a foundation for creating and maintaining friendships.  It is filled with memorable phrases that provide friendship advice and keep one from becoming disheartened.  

Third, there are a number of Greek words in the chapter that stimulate our thinking.  

“Dikaioesunae” is translated “righteousness” in the NRSV.  The Greek term is more relational than English word “righteous” indicates.  We often think of righteousness as “being right,” particularly on moral, academic, or political matters. The Greek word, however, implies justice in our relationships and being willing to go the second mile in a relationship. Even in Paul’s time, however, many people only thought of “righteousness” in legalistic terms—where one could be “righteous” but not anywhere close to having good and right relationships with others.

“Sarkae” is translated “flesh.”  Paul uses this term in many different ways throughout his writings.  Here, the term could best be understood as referring to “outward appearance” in contrast to who we actually are in our hearts.  Physical circumcision, like a tattoo for instance, does not necessarily reveal the important truths about an individual.  One can have a full love for God and one’s neighbors without announcing it through circumcisions or tattoos.

“Skoepon” is translated “goal.”  Philippians 3 emphasizes the importance of having a goal in mind as we develop our religion or spirituality.  For Paul, the goal was to imitate the mind of Christ:  joy, empathy, willingness to sacrifice, and a desire for goodness.  Paul realized that he could not have “goodness” as a goal if he pursued other goals such as self-righteousness, self-justification, or self-indulgence. 

“Polituema” is translated “citizenship.”  The term refers to the rights, privileges, and responsibilities of belonging to a specific collective.  In v. 20, Paul raises the notion of a “heavenly” citizenship.  The word “heavenly” in the New Testament has several possible meanings.  It could merely mean the sky.  Or it could mean a place in the afterlife.  Or it could mean the earthly community that gathers to worship and obey God.  This last definition is the most likely in the context of Philippians 3, as it goes along with v. 3:  “the true circumcised are those who worship in the Spirit of God and boast in Jesus Christ and have no confidence in the flesh (outward appearances.)”  

SERMON MANUSCRIPT

The Good Word:  Dual Citizenship

In his letter to the Philippians, Paul makes it very clear that he possesses the full benefits and privileges of what he calls “heavenly citizenship. What does he mean by that phrase? Is this just some pious, pie in the sky religious talk? Or should we be leaning in a little closer, trying to figure out whether heavenly citizenship is something that might be valuable to us these days?

Paul himself was already a Roman citizen.  He had rights and privileges that went along with being a citizen.  For example, if Paul were arrested, he could insist on due process in a Roman Court of Law.  That privilege alone actually saved his life on more than one occasion. 

Many people in the Roman Empire, however, were not citizens.  They had no benefits and privileges.  Jesus was not a citizen of Rome.  Slaves were not citizens.  People in occupied countries were not citizens.  In the eyes of the law, to not be a citizen was to be a nobody.  

Over time, notions of citizenship evolved in different ways in different parts the world.  Citizenship was often synonymous with nationality, with where you happen to be born.  Today, your citizenship is in the country that grants you your passport.  Depending on the country, you may or may not have lots of rights and privileges.  People occasionally change their citizenship.  Leaving and renouncing one country and moving to another and becoming a citizen there.  On occasions, a person might have dual citizenship.  For example, if one’s parents are citizens of two different countries, then one would be born with dual citizenship.     

Throughout the history of the United States, we have argued over who gets to be a citizen.  At one point, we excluded Native Americans, women, slaves, recent immigrants—and even white men who owned no property.  In 2025 we’re still having those arguments—who gets to be an American citizen, and what rights and privileges will be denied non-citizens?  

In Philippians 3, Paul introduces a different kind of dual citizenship, not involving two different nations, but involving two different worlds:  heaven and earth. 

The Greek word in Philippians 3:20 is “po LIT u ma.” It means belonging to a collective.  We might have “po LIT u ma”  in several groups at the same time, more than one so-called citizenship at any given time:  groups to which claim us and offer us rights and privileges.  I’m a citizen of the United States, a citizen of my place of employment, a citizen of my family, a citizen of my neighborhood, a citizen of organizations I belong to.  Each citizenship implies insiders and outsiders, benefits and privileges, duties and responsibilities. We all have dual citizenships in this sense of the word.

Usually dual citizenships are competitive.  My work citizenship competes with my family citizenship.  My national citizenship competes with my church citizenship.  Do I obey Jesus or do I obey the president?  Do I please my boss or do I please my wife?  Life is a continual negotiation inside our heads—trying to balance and honor our various citizenships.

When Paul talked of a heavenly citizenship, he thought of God’s realm.  He thought of God’s goodness and justice and mercy.  He thought of God’s principles—love, joy, peace.  He thought of obedience to the ways and spirit of Jesus.  He thought about the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, stirring our hearts and minds into a spiritual patriotism and sacrifice.  And he thought about how much he preferred his heavenly citizenship to his other citizenships.  He was grateful of course for his Roman citizenship, and his citizenship in the institutional church, and his citizenship in the Jewish diaspora, and his citizenship in his craft guild of tentmaking.  But the center of his life, the citizenship that gave him stability and direction in all his other citizenships—was his heavenly citizenship. 

Now—there is a danger that “heavenly citizenship” can be misinterpreted.  Some think of it only as a futuristic hope. But Paul makes clear in today’s text that “heavenly citizenship” is a present matter.  God’s Kingdom is already arriving in our world and our lives.  God’s realm is a reality now—even though there is much more to come.  And our citizenship in God’s realm is effective immediately.  It was the assurance of this citizenship that allowed Paul to navigate all his other citizenships—which often brought him frustration, grief, and pain.     

This week I’m doing a presentation on the life of Fanny Lou Hamer. She was a black woman born in the cotton picking delta of western Mississippi.  In 1917—I’m old enough to have been her nephew.  Fanny’s grandmother was a slave—not a citizen of the U.S.  Her grandmother had 23 children, 20 of those children were fathered by rapists—various white slave owners who passed the young woman around for their own pleasures.  Even after slavery was abolished, black women were not granted the rights of citizenship.  And despite the 14th amendment, granting black men citizenship, the state of Mississippi was the first state in the south to rewrite its constitution to make black citizenship meaningless.  When women were granted the right to vote in 1920, many black women were still not given that privilege because of Jim Crow laws. This was the world as Fannie Lou Hamer experienced it.  She was a citizen of the U.S. in name only.  In a hundred years, life was not any better for her than it was for her enslaved grandmother.  

In 1960, Fanny Lou Hamer was 43 years old, a clerk on a cotton plantation—and still not allowed to vote. In the eyes of the government of Mississippi and in the practices of the government of the United States, Fanny Lou Hamer was a nobody.  She had tried to register to vote several times, but had always been rebuffed—and occasionally with violence and arrest.  She was a legally convicted nobody. 

But Ms. Hamer had been a church-goer all her life.  And she had heard, all her life, in church, that she was a citizen of God’s Kingdom.  And in God’s kingdom, she had power, she had agency, she had rights and privileges, she had the ear of the king, she had freedom, and she had tools at her disposal, and she had songs to sing and bells to ring and speeches to make.  In God’s kingdom, when she proclaimed justice, nobody would stop her.  In fact, the saints in heaven would shout out, “Amen.”  Fanny Lou Hamer was a citizen of God’s heavenly kingdom.  And she knew it.

Now Fanny Lou Hamer got this notion into her head that being a citizen of God’s heavenly kingdom meant something here on earth, not just in heaven.  She was, after all, living in a so-called Christian nation that you would think would be respectful and affirming of her heavenly citizenship. The United States being a Christian nation and all.

Now, once Fanny Lou Hamer got in her head that she was a citizen of God’s heavenly kingdom, the rulers of Mississippi, the jailers and the sheriffs and the senators and the plantation owners and the governor—and even the president of the United States, who wanted those crackers in Mississippi to help get him reelected—all the rulers and bosses and bullies of this world—all of them put together couldn’t get the notion out of Fanny Lou Hamer’s head that she was a CITIZEN of God’s kingdom—and citizenship in God’s Kingdom meant something—even in Mississippi.  

Fanny Lou Hamer has been dead now for nearly 50 years, but she still rocks our world—every time someone new hears her story.  

To be a citizen of God’s heavenly kingdom, is to know that you and I are protected in this world and valued in this world—because of the passport Jesus Christ purchased for us—to know that we have moral authority because someone above even the president has given us a voice and a duty—to know that God has authorized us to share that citizenship with every other human being on the face of the earth—to know that you are a citizen of the heavenly kingdom means that soon—and very soon—we know that God’s governance will be seen to be above every nation and president and oligarch on earth.  We know that every knee will someday bend at the name of Jesus.  And we know that when one is a citizen of God’s realm, we are become bold to defy the unholy powers of this world.  

It is our heavenly citizenship that grounds us, centers us, humbles us, and empowers us to engage the powers and principalities of our own day.  Without first being grounded in our heavenly citizenship, we will fail in our all struggles, be they personal or political.  People like Paul and Fanny Lou Hamer have gone before us and shown us how critical it is to be grounded firmly in our heavenly citizenship as we navigate the personal and political issues of our own day.

When the powers of this world, of any nation or state—scoff at the ways of Jesus, dismiss his lordship, insult the citizens of God’s heavenly kingdom—we will not be intimidated, we will not overact, we will not become unhinged, we will not imitate arrogance.  When the powers of this world dehumanize the citizens of God’s heavenly kingdom—we pull together, we set aside our differences, we train our voices to sing and advocate, we learn the spectacular non-violent ways of Jesus.  We will not lose heart. We know who we are.  We will love our neighbors—all of them, those easy to love and those hard to love.  We will respond with courage to do the right thing, to make our country good, make our church good, make our relationships good.

God Whose Love is Reigning o’er us

We’ve a Story to Tell to the Nations

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