“Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” – Philippians 2:4-8
This week, many of us are settling into a “new normal,” one that may last for a couple of weeks or perhaps longer. At this point, who knows?
It occurred to me that for the vast majority of us who are used to living in a our modern culture of convenience, characterized by things we’ve become accustomed to and taking for granted, things like instant gratification, the availability of options, and virtually unfettered freedom to do what we want, go where we want and be with who we want, the sudden prospect of being quarantined, whether voluntarily or under some sort of mandate, is something that goes rather against our nature.
Oh sure, we may be fine with it for a day or so, happy to deal with minor inconveniences and maybe even feeling rather good about ourselves because we’re “set up” and “well stocked.” But the heart is a fickle thing and as time passes it’s our nature for our thoughts to coalesce around ourselves and the way we’re being impacted, and usually that doesn’t go so well.
While there are so many truths to be reminded of and lessons to be learned as we collectively navigate the effects of the coronavirus pandemic, the particular thought that recurs to me is my (dare I say ‘our’) idolatry of comfort.
And as I read Philippians, I’m reminded that as a result of nothing that I did, save being born in a particular time, place, socio-economic class, complete with all the benefits and perks associated with that – think access to education, healthcare, food, employment, etc. – I experience a level of comfort and freedom that is both historically and culturally unprecedented. So much so that often I’m not really aware of it.
It’s like the old question, “Does a fish know it’s wet?”
And when something impinges on that sense of autonomy, that begins to affect us. Maybe slightly at first. Or maybe not. Each of us has our own reactionary curve. But when idols are exposed, it’s inevitable that we’ll feel it.
As Christians, I believe it’s helpful to be reminded that we’re not actually free. We’ve been bought and paid for by someone whom we are now bound to. To use biblical language, we’re really bond-servants. Or to be politically incorrect, we’re slaves.
And here’s the thing. The one who bought us didn’t consider his glory and all the attending benefits something to hold onto. Rather, the apostle Paul here reminds us that Jesus was inconvenienced in the most ultimate sense. And it didn’t get better for him after a couple weeks so he could go back to his normal routine of being the ruler of the universe. As his followers, we’re called to be likeminded and to walk the same path.
While we’re sitting at home, restricted in our routines, and trying to get adjusted to a new way of doing things, I’m considering the implications and assumptions baked in to this passage about my own comfort and I’m asking myself what it looks like to have the mind of Christ and to look to the interests of others.