I absolutely love this passage from Philippians.

Many scholars have argued that it is actually a very early Christian hymn…or maybe even an early Christian creedal statement.

It is powerful.

And it is a perfect map for the journey of Holy Week.

In the poem, Christ takes on human form…

and not just any human, but one who gives selflessly and lives a life of service up until the moment of death.

A human who embodied humility.

And though he is killed, God ultimately vindicates, raises up, exalts the name of Jesus.  So that in Jesus the Christ all people may see the glory of God our Creator.

This is the journey of Holy Week.

Jesus comes to Jerusalem…

and while he is hailed by the crowd as the messiah, the bringer of God’s anointed Kingdom…make no mistake, he comes as one who is humble, one who is a servant.  This is most cyrstalized in the Last Supper.

And then he is put to death.

But He is ultimately vindicated by God raising him from the dead…not only restoring life that was taken, but making Jesus first among all in the resurrection and in God’s kingdom.

And while this is a wonderful map for the week we are about to travel through together…

I think what is the most powerful part of this passage from Philippians is the opening clause:

“Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus…”

This isn’t simply a literary map.

The Philippians Hymn and the Story of Jesus’ death and resurrection are not limited to just being a recollection of past events.

They are an invitation to you…to live in the way of the Cross and the Resurrection.  To join Jesus in living this way…so that you too may join in Christ’s life of resurrection.

Which of course sounds nice…and you’ve probably heard before…and so the question is: what does that mean?

Well…staying with the map of the Philippians hymn…one thing it means for our lives today is to embody humility.

Now that word humility is tricky.  It’s gotten a lot of baggage.  I know that it’s a term misused by many to promote all sorts of unhealthy emotional, thought, and behavior patterns.

And yet, it is a term which is at the core of a LOT of Christian teaching.  It is prevalent in the Christian tradition and the teaching of the church.

So we need to deal with it….and I will start by prefacing this with the words of our presiding Bishop Michael Curry:

“If it’s not about love, it’s not about God.”

What is a loving humility?  A humility that is grounded in and rooted in love?

And when I wrestle with that question…what I hear, is a deep permission to be a human being.

That is, loving humility can be seen as living in simple, non-judgmental awareness of who you are

…seeing both your strengths and weaknesses, seeing your wounds and your healing, your unhealthy patterns as well as your health…

And not judging any of it.

Just being aware that I and you are these animals who have some wonderful things about ourselves, and some difficult stuff we struggle with.

Humility can be recognizing that you and I are not that different…that we both have some basically similar human needs, and that we are each doing our best to meet those needs for ourselves and others…but we aren’t quite doing that in the best ways all the time.

Humility is to see how absurd it is to raise someone up onto a pedestal of excellence…including ourselves…because next to the beauty is always pain.

But humility also does not allow the pain to blot out the beauty.

Humility recognizes our common identity at an even deeper level.

True humility recognizes that despite the faults and problems and pain in another human being…they are still worthy of care, they are worthy of love and service.  They are still a creature of God.

And mature humility recognizes that same truth in ourselves.  That I am also a creature of God.

In short…I think we can interpret humility as a kind of acceptance of one’s own and everyone else’s deep vulnerability.

And I see this humility in Jesus.

Taking another look at Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem today…you might notice that it is an extremely vulnerable act.

Jesus parades into Jerusalem, on the eve of Passover, the celebration of the Hebrew’s deliverance of slavery…in a city that is occupied by Rome.

In Mark’s Gospel passage we opened our service with today, the people are literally shouting praises for “the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!”

How could this not put Jesus at the crosshairs of the Roman Imperial establishment in Jerusalem?

So in a way I am struck by how fearless Jesus is.  How undisturbed he is by this situation.  He is calm and accepting of it.  In Matthew’s version, the Temple authorities ask Jesus, “can’t you hear what these people are saying” and Jesus just responds, “if the people were silent, it would simply be ringing out from the stones.”

He accepts the very vulnerable and risky situation this puts his life in.

He accepts both the glory, the fun, and the joy of this event…the shared communal relief and reassurance that God will deliver God’s people from oppression, violence, and death.

But he also accepts that by proclaiming those things he is bringing about his own death at the hand of Rome.

Jesus sees his own pain…and the pain of the people around him…and the pain that is to come…

And yet, he doesn’t let that pain blot out the beauty.

Jesus also sees that this crowd is in need of love and care…that they are indeed worthy of service.  And Jesus offers himself to them as the promise they need of God’s deliverance.

Jesus is humble not because he chose a donkey rather than a stead…

Jesus is humble because he sees his common human need for deliverance and freedom in his neighbors.  And he responds by giving of himself in service.

He offers himself vulnerably, Jesus’ own warts and all.

Which is also what happens on the cross…isn’t it?

But this time, Jesus is not so fearless.  Jesus ends up weeping and begging God to somehow change the situation Jesus finds himself in….

Jesus is scared…but he also accepts what is to come.

The prayer ends with Jesus naming that acceptance…and throughout the process of arrest, trial, and crucifixtion…Jesus models acceptance.

He doesn’t like it…he is experiencing pain and loss and humiliation…and he does yearn for a new world that doesn’t victimize anyone.

But Jesus accepts that Pilate being the flawed human that Pilate is, and the Roman system of power and domination having both these amazing systems of aqueducts and roads also bringing death and destruction…all that as it was, meant that he was of course going to be killed.

And so with that acceptance lives vulnerably.  He does not hide his shame or his pain.  He shares it in the hopes that others will know that God cares…

That God is there in the places in life that are full of humiliation…

God is with those who receive violence and oppression…

That being marred by pain, wounds, hurts, shame, and persecution does not mean you are less than or unworthy.

Jesus vulnerably declares that even God knows the pain of yelling out, “my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

And that God has not actually abandoned you…that the pain of our lives does not blot out the beauty.

We suffer…we have faults and hurt others and ourselves…and yet we are creatures of God and thus are loved by God.  And that we are worthy of being cared for, worthy of love.

Just like as Jesus, while hanging on a cross, being mocked and humiliated by the system of violence all around him

…just like how he in that moment of death, he too was worthy of being cared for…worthy of love.

And so this Holy Week, I have an invitation to you:

I would like you to ask yourself, “how can I live in a way that accepts mine and everyone else’s vulnerability?”

How do we live in a way that sees our shared gifts and faults…our shared beauty and pain?

How do we see the pain without losing the beauty?

How do we remember that everyone we meet…everyone…is a fellow creature of God?

That despite all the faults in my neighbor, they are worthy of love and of care

That despite all your faults, that you are worthy of love and care.