Masks & Anxiety: A Public Theology for the Present ~ Philippians 2:19-30 (Philippians: A Love Letter for Troubled Times series)

References – they can make or break a job opportunity or entrance into a University degree. You can look good on paper but one bad reference and “poof” your dreams go up in smoke. In the same way, a good reference can lift a struggling application or boost someone with less experience. In a former job as an Admission Counselor at Fuller Theological Seminary, I will never forget reading an application with a reference from a well-known theologian. The reference read, I explained to Mr. K- that I did not want to write him a reference. I told him that I would not speak positively of him if he asked me to do it. Mr. K- nevertheless badgered me into writing on his behalf. So here is my reference. I would not recommend admitting him to your program. Ouch. Well, this week Paul is providing what accounts to references for two of his colleagues: Timothy and Epaphroditus. And, despite their brevity, they clue us into a robust vision for ourselves as also Paul’s colleagues in the faith. The questions for us are, How do Paul’s references for Timothy and Epaphroditus help us live? And, what would Paul write about us? And that means we must talk about how we live our lives publicly as Christians.

  

Paul’s mini-reference letter for Timothy highlights something that we can all too easily forget. The measure of our Christian standing is entirely connected to our treatment of others. And that means that our theology can never be a merely private affair, or abstract knowledge, but most prove to be adept at enabling us to care for others. That’s the purpose of Bible reading and the proof of our faith. So what happens when genuine care for others is what fuels our concerns. It makes our theology public and practical. So Bible reading is not enough. We must read our Bibles in the present moment and risk discerning the right thing to do (Phil. 1:9-11).

What’s a current arena where we might show ourselves “obedient” and “genuinely concerned” for the welfare of others? What might Paul want us to think about before he writes his reference about us? Well, I think a truly practical question would be to consider masks wearing as a place for public theology. NOTE: I know that this feels controversial. And I know it’s complicated. However, the controversy should mean a greater need for discernment and clear Biblical and theological thinking in which we seek to promote the “welfare” of others. What might that look like? A public theology for mask wearing.

First, Paul would tell us that we need a public theology of kindom (yes, I spelled that right.) We need a theology which helps us consider everyone as family and finds its purpose in loving others. The word used by Paul “genuinely” (vs. 20, “genuinely” concerned) gnēsiōs is a word that literally means “legitimately born.” So Paul describes Timothy’s faith by his capacity to care for others as if they were his own kin, as if they were truly brothers and sisters. The Christian vision of compassion, our public vision for the world, is that we will never have kingdom without kindom.

Second, Paul would tell us that we need a public theology which lovingly calls other believers to account for their unlovingness, for “seeking their own interests” (vs. 21). We need to fashion a vision of discipleship that refuses to allow to deviate from Jesus’ vision of loving our neighbors as ourselves. We need to be isopsychos, lit. “equal souled.” How do we do this? We should be placing ourselves in mentoring and learning relationships like “father and son,” so that we can speak into each other lives. Our inability to do so reflects on our love for one another. If you struggle speaking the truth in love – work on the relationship. My wife can call me to account because her love for me is unquestioned. She loves me too much to let me live in unhelpful or harmful ways. It might mean being “obedient” like a son to a father, Paul says (vs. 22). Jesus was obedient to the father by caring for others. The word obedience in latin is ob (to) + audire, and audire meaning to “listening with great attention.” Who do you listen to in order to ensure that you are following Jesus well and who is listening to you? When you wear a mask remind yourself, remind your children why you do it.

Third, Paul would encourage us to craft a public theology focused on the “welfare” of others and the interests of Jesus and not our individual rights. We don’t wear masks because it’s comfortable. We don’t wear masks primarily for our own health. We don’t demand our “rights” as the true expression of our faith. We show ourselves “not seeking our own interests and following Jesus” by submitting ourselves to what keeps others safe. And friends, this is proven to keep others safe. But more than just a neighborly thing for Paul, Timothy’s authentic compassion and his desire to “seek” the interests of Jesus (vs. 21) represent two ways of saying the same thing. To serve Jesus, Paul reveals, and to serve others are one and the same. To care for others, Paul says, is to care for Jesus himself. Jesus said the same thing himself (Matt. 25:31-46). But is this what others say about us? In a recent 3-year study, non-Christian participants were asked to describe the church in America picking from a host of positive and negative terms. Over 75% did so negatively. They don’t believe that we are concerned for their welfare.

 

 

 If we seek to be people concerned about the welfare of others. We must think carefully about our response to this looming mental health crises:

First, sharing anxiety or acknowledging depression are not a lack of faith. That’s what Paul does – he acknowledges a profound vulnerability – Epaphroditus’ “depression” (vs. 26), his own “sorrow upon sorrow” and “anxiety” (vss. 27-28).

We so often give Paul a bad rap for dense, at times, even abstract theology, caricaturing him like some ancient Christian robot. But listen carefully as Paul acknowledges worry and anxiety. Vs. 27 is most revealing: “God took pity not only on Epaphroditus but also on me so that I would not have sorrow upon sorrow. ²⁸I am the more eager to send him, therefore, in order that you may rejoice at seeing him again, and that I may be less anxious.” We will never be able to address the pain of our world if we are not able to share the pain of world, to open up about our pain, believing that we can share it – (both talking about it and listening to one another). Are we a safe place to talk like Paul? Are we willing to attend to the mental anguish of others?

Second, we need to recognize that confessing mental anguish is not necessarily acknowledging personal sin. One of the reasons that we so often fail to share is that we feel ashamed. We believe that having anxiety or depression is our fault, our lack, our personal sinfulness. And such a vision reveals how short-sighted our understanding of sin is. We fail to understand the weight of sin that comes from a broken and frail world that is not our fault and which were not mean to bear. Paul doesn’t call Epaphroditus to confess and neither does he say, “I shouldn’t have been anxious.” In fact, Paul would remind us that Jesus himself experienced such emotions. The word Paul uses to describe Epaphroditus’ distress – adēmoneō – which means to be troubled, in great distress or anguish, depressed, was the same word used to describe Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. If the son of God could feel such things then you can to and not imagine that you are sinful for it.

Finally, “suck it up” of “be positive” are not Paul’s answer for the pain. It’s all about God’s mercy. Recent Christian self-help literature addressing such emotional distress would suggest that positive thinking is the proper response.

One author writes, “God is certainly positive, and to flow with Him, you must also be positive” (Meyer, 1995, p. 51). These authors zero in on the origins of depression, more often claiming things like rebellion and the person’s own sinfulness. One author calls depression the result of “ingratitude, unresolved conflict, irresponsibility, guilt, bitterness, unforgiveness, unbelief, claiming of rights, anger, and self-centeredness”. In general, it is assumed that experiences of psychological distress, such as anxiety and depression, are not expected or appropriate elements of Christian life.

Some of you may want to agree – “But doesn’t Paul say that he is ‘confident’ in Christ and that he ‘rejoices’ while being in prison. Doesn’t he say, in chapter 4, that we should ‘rejoice at all times’, commit everything to God in prayer, and know his ‘peace that passes all understanding’?”

Paul reveals that our call to rejoice does not wink at or dismiss sorrow or forget the tumbled around emotions of our daily lives. “Stiff upper lip religion” is not necessary for God’s work; the miracle of God at Calvary was not hindered by Jesus’ anguish. It was, after all, a power greater than positive thinking that reanimated his lifeless body and rolled away the stone.  In this, we encounter extraordinary mystery: how God forges heroism in the hearth of human frailty. If we wish to publicly care for our neighbors, our kin, genuinely, selflessly, we must be a people who allow others to express their worry and fear without trite responses or glib answers. 

So here we are – between the now of Jesus’ healing where so many of us struggles, doubt, despair with sorrow upon sorrow and the not yet of his total victory where every tear will be dried, every pain vanquished, where everyone will be held safe. And our two roles in this place are simple but - we are the tenders of one another and we are those in need of tending. And friends, I most firmly believe that this side of Jesus’ return we are always both. So invite you to stand, to be both obedient and humble, to open your hands and to look to the God who invites you to be the human being he created you to be.