Philip for Our Time

I

If you are grief-stricken fans by the way Game of Thrones ended last Sunday night, you can get online counseling from Bark.com, for $50 an hour. I am not kidding… 

And lots of takers, apparently, for the ending satisfied no one—not athletes, not actors or aficionados. Average fans, some of them, said the entire last season was so hurried and simplistic that it ruined all that had gone before.

        More than a million people signed an online petition demanding, demanding, the entire last season be remade; which is what happens, I guess, when people forget that a TV show, however great it is, or a move, is just a TV show. Or a movie.

        Hank Stuever, writing this week in the Washington Post, said that sometimes, when we love our shows too much, it makes us look embarrassingly out of touch with reality. Which is why Mr. Stuever loved the coffee cup.

        For fans of the show, no explanation is needed.

        For those of you who are not—in one episode, somebody, a crew member or actor, left a coffee cup, complete with cardboard sleeve, in plain sight of the camera. Viewers pounced: proof of the sloppy carelessness of this season’s production.

The cup itself, of course, was immediately digitally scrubbed from subsequent airings of that episode. But Mr. Steuver thinks the cup deserves an Emmy… “because it reminds us,” he said, “that a TV show, no matter how absorbing, is a fake, a folly, a job that someone is hired to do, so that an HBO subscription can be sold to you…”

(https://www.washingtonpost.com/entertainment/tv/the-game-of-thrones-finale-while-lacking-goes-out-on-an-important-note-stories-matter/2019/05/20/ecb51076-7a62-11e9-a5b3-34f3edf1351e_story.html?utm_term=.0dbcc88d8382)

        Cold truth, that.

But even with that in mind, the best line of the finale belonged to Tyrion, who said this:

“What unites people? Armies? Gold? Flags?

“Stories,” he said. “There’s nothing in the world more powerful than a good story. Nothing can stop it. No enemy can defeat it.”

Perhaps the reason Game of Thrones did not unite everyone, ultimately divided so many people, is that it was a fake, a folly, a job that lots of someone’s were hired to do.

The gospel, though. Now there’s the story that can unite us, I do believer. Nothing more powerful than the story of Jesus, his life, death and resurrection. Nothing more compelling than the stories of the disciples. And one of the things I love most about this gospel story… it does not scrub-out the coffee cups. It does not try to make the characters look anything but human. It is not fake, or phony. It is not a story for hire, but a story we are invited to join.

I give you, as exhibit A, the story of Philip. The fifth disciple. Let’s start there.

II

 You are no doubt familiar with the phrase, “I Am Third.”

“Jesus is first. Others are second. I am third.”

        One of our Sunday School classes here at Hawthorne Lane, back in the day, took the acronym, JOY, as their name.

        In any case, “I am Third” is a familiar phrase.

        “I am fifth,” not so much.

        Because I made it up, just this week. Last Monday, in fact. Thinking about Philip, the Apostle…

        Who is not to be confused with Philip the Evangelist. Philip the Evangelist was a second generation disciple: there are a couple of stories about him in Acts: helping with daily communal meals as the church in Jerusalem grew; baptizing the Ethiopian eunuch…

        Philip the Apostle, on the other hand, was among the very first disciples of Jesus, and always listed… can you guess… fifth in the various rosters of disciples.

Simon Peter and his brother Andrew; James, the son of Zebedee and his brother John: those four are always listed first;  Judas, son of Simon Iscariot, is always listed last.

        And Philip, from Bethsaida in Galilee—a cosmopolitan little town, multi-ethnic, multi-lingual—is always listed fifth.

Now, as Gary LaBrosse pointed-out on Monday night, if the Apostles were a basketball team, Philip is still a starter. But he is not a star. In fact, at least as Matthew, Mark and Luke tell it, Philip never sees any action. He’s in the box score, as it were, but plays zero minutes, never takes a shot.

        The Gospel of John, though, tells it differently. In John’s reporting there are no less than 4 times when Philip handles the ball.

Game summary: two assists; one turnover; one ugly personal foul.

        Let’s go to the replay.

III

        John, chapter 1.

Philip was a disciple of John the Baptist, until he heard John say of Jesus, “Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.”

And so Philip changes teams. Stops following John and begins following Jesus… which is a reminder to us that whoever has drawn our attention or devotion, whatever has demanded our energy and loyalty, there is time to change, to repent, to join ourselves to Jesus.

        Very next day, Philip finds Nathanael—who may have been a friend, or a relative—and Philip says to him, “We have found the Messiah, the one foretold by Moses in the law and the prophets: Jesus of Nazareth.”

        Which, too, is a reminder, that when we are following Jesus, our discipleship is not really complete unless we are sharing with others what we have discovered. Not in an oppressive or manipulative way.

When Nathanael questions Philip’s word—“Can anything good come from Nazareth?” Philip has his best moment: he says, “Come and see.” It was the Play of the Day

        When people ask you, “Can anything good be happening in a UMC these days?”—you might be asked by friends or relatives—I suggest you take your cues from Philip. Just invite them here. Tell them to come to HLUM and see.

And if they do, you and Philip get credit for the assist.

IV

        John, chapter 6. The Feeding of the Five Thousand.

        A large crowd is fallowing Jesus. Jesus decides to feed them. He asks Philip, “Where are we to get enough bread to feed such a crowd?” Jesus was already clear what he was going to do: it was a test.

        Philip replies, “Six months of wages wouldn’t buy enough bread for everyone to get even a little bit.”

(Klaxon) Turnover. Unforced error. Even though he is a disciple, he shows little faith. He is more aware of what they don’t have than what they do.

        Which is like looking in the mirror: we, too, are often more perplexed than thankful, doubt more than we believe, shake our heads and do not lift up our hearts.

        One of the other disciples, Andrew, said, “A little boy has five barley loaves and a two fish…”

        Jesus takes them, gives thanks for what they do have; distributes the food and all are filled. More than filled. And even Philip, despite the turnover. A reminder to us to be thankful for what we do have, and to share it, even if it is not much. Jesus can do miracles with that kind of faith.

V

        John, chapter 14. Here comes the foul. Personal. Flagrant 1. Should have been Flagrant 2. Philip should have been ejected immediately.

        At the Last Supper, the night of Jesus’ arrest. Jesus has just given one of his most beautiful, one of his most memorable speeches: Let not your heart be troubled… I am the way, the truth and the life… If you know me, you know the Father… from now on you do know him and have seen him.”

        Philip says, “Lord, show us the Father and we will be satisfied.”

        Anyone in here have a whistle? Grief.

        Jesus is aghast. “Have you been with me so long, Philip and still you don’t know who I am? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father!”

        A cautionary reminder to us, who also, sometimes, want to see more than just Jesus.

        How it must break his heart when we, who have been with him so long, still ask for signs, for proofs, for demonstrations that we imagine will satisfy. If only we are healed, if only we are delivered, if only we get the job, if only we get the girl, the boy, the parking place…then we will be satisfied. Then we will believe—at least until next time—if Jesus just shows us something more.

        When he is already with us. In Word. Sacrament. When two or three are gathered together, and even more when all of us are gathered together, he is with us—loving, teaching, guiding, equipping: uniquely loving and gathering us together; uniquely equipping us and sending us to represent him in the world, to make a Jesus difference, a godly difference in the ungodly world…when he has been with us so many times.

        And still we ask for more proof.

        Which is a flagrant, technical, personal foul on our Lord. For Philip, and us.

VI

        But before we bench Philip, or ourselves… John 12. When some Greeks come to Philip as say, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.”

        Why did they ask him? Maybe because he spoke Greek, but even that is not absolutely clear. But how did they know him? We are not sure. Maybe they too were from that cosmopolitan little town.

One way or the other, there is this moment when Philip, for all of his limitations, all of his inconsistent play, is presented with a great opportunity: to be the go-between: to bring some people to Jesus. He gets help: he finds Andrew, and together they tell Jesus that these Greeks are looking for him.

        Which prompts Jesus to tell us a story that cannot be defeated, that can unite us all: “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains a single grain. But if it dies, it produces a great harvest. And I, when I am lifted up (that is, crucified), I will draw all people unto myself: Greeks, Jews, black, white, brown; rich, poor, gay, straight”—nothing can stop this story of Jesus and his selfless love.

        And Philip, the Fifth Disciple, is a part of it.

        Just like you, and we are a part of it.

        Not stars, many of us. Maybe not even fifth. Maybe down the bench, most of us, most of the time. But you got to be ready to step up when someone says to you, one way of the other, “We want to see Jesus.”

        So many people wish, want, need, long to see Jesus… even if they can’t say it that way. But they look to us, and who knows why, exactly. Maybe because they think we speak their language. And they want to know if it’s true… they want to see something of Jesus in this godless world.

Philip didn’t always get it right or play error-free; nor have we. But he was the very one to bring those Greeks to Jesus. In your words, your action, your loving and giving, your mercy and compassion, you are the one, the very one, who can do the same.