Citizens of Heaven

In Nomine Iesu
Philippians 3:17-4:1
March 17, 2019
Lent 2C

Dear Saints of Our Savior~

I have a confession to make. It’s time for me to come clean. Although you’ve known me as your pastor for many years, I’m actually a secret agent for the Sunflower state—the state of Kansas—my home state. I’ve been trying to convert you to all things Kansas. I’ve tried to highlight the Kansas City Royals and the Kansas City Chiefs. I’ve tried to talk up the things Kansas is best known for, like wind . . . and livestock. I’ve subtly tried to tout the wonders of wheat and the beauty of barbed wire. If in recent years you’ve felt your heart longing for the good life in Kansas, it’s no doubt because of me—your goodwill ambassador for the great state of Kansas.

I mention this to help provide some context for today’s reading from Philippians. When St. Paul wrote his epistle to the church at Philippi, that city, along with most of the Mediterranean world had been conquered and colonized by the Roman Empire. And whenever the Romans conquered a new territory, it was their practice to send in some of their best, most patriotic citizens in order to colonize the new territory—to demonstrate for the native people of that place what it meant to be good and loyal citizens of Rome. (For much the same reason that the state of Kansas has deployed me here in Wisconsin.)

The city of Philippi was a case study in success for the Roman policy of colonization. When Philippi first came under Roman domination, Rome sent some of their best citizens to live there—including lots of retired soldiers and their families—proud, patriotic, flag-waving, Fox News-watching members of the Roman VFW, you might say. Rome gave them a pension and a new home and said, “Go and live there and make this place Roman in every way.” Their task was to transform the culture from the bottom up.

Apparently, even some of the Christians at Philippi had gotten caught up in all the civic pride and patriotic fervor. And perhaps St. Paul saw the need to rein them in and remind them of this important truth: Our citizenship is in heaven, and from there we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like His glorious body, by the power that enables Him to subject all things to Himself. Yes, they were citizens of—and ambassadors for—Rome. But more importantly, they were citizens of heaven and ambassadors for the Kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ.

And in that respect, we modern American Christians are just like the Christians in First Century Philippi. Our citizenship is in heaven. We, too, have been shipped out to the ends of the earth to help spread the reign of our gracious God—to colonize the world for Christ—to show by word and deed that Jesus Christ is the way, the truth, and the life. Your real home—your true home—is neither Wisconsin nor Kansas. Your citizenship is in heaven. You’re but a stranger here. Heaven is your home. And here on earth we are secret agents for the Savior—goodwill ambassadors for the faith once delivered to the saints. Here on earth we are a colony of heavenly citizens.

Jesus Himself expressed the same idea when He said, “You are the light of the world. . . . Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven” (Matt. 5:14, 16). Jesus is saying that you’ve been placed here for a purpose. He’s using you colonize this dark world with His light and life. In the wonderful work of your vocations—to family and friends, co-workers and classmates, neighbors and citizens—you are humbly bearing witness to the truth that this world isn’t all there is—that Jesus is the resurrection and the life, whose kingdom will have no end. You are a citizen of that kingdom. You are presently serving on earth as an ambassador for the God of heaven.

But your deployment here is not without difficulty. Many people live as enemies of the cross of Christ. And these enemies haven’t changed much from the First Century to the Twenty-First Century. Paul describes them this way: Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things. For St. Paul, and for us, these “enemies of the cross” were a crying shame. These are people for whom Christ died—but who have nevertheless rejected Jesus in favor of their own idols.

This means that we who are citizens of heaven should take our heavenly citizenship seriously. We are citizens of heaven to be sure; but we are not always model citizens. Would the people you interact with each day have any idea that your citizenship is in heaven? By the words you use—by the choices you make—by the witness you give—by how you manage money—by your works of mercy and compassion—is there anything distinctively different about you? Anything that would give away the fact that you are a blood-bought, died-for child of God? Do you honor God with your body, believing that your lowly body will one day be transformed to be like the glorious, resurrected body of Jesus? Or does your belly with its appetites take the lead in your life—driving you into the destruction of idolatry and self-love?

I have another confession to make this morning: I haven’t been a very good secret agent for the Sunflower state. Instead of converting you to all things Kansas, something unexpected happened. It started with your Friday Fish Fries and your tasty cheese curds. It continued every time I sampled one of your locally-brewed beverages. I found myself rooting for the Brewers, Badgers, Bucks, and Packers! Instead of “Home on the Range,” I found myself humming “On Wisconsin!” Instead of making Kansans out of you, you made a Wisconsinite out of me. Now, this is my own personal problem. I’ll have to sort out my statehood status in private.

But let my failure serve as a warning to you—to every citizen of heaven currently stationed here on earth. The Lord has sent us out as His ambassadors to change the culture of sin and death around us. But what do we see happening? Instead of Christians changing the world—instead of the church changing the culture—the Christ-less culture is changing the church. The shameful ways of the world are worming their way into the church. Practices and positions strictly condemned and forbidden by the Word of God are now being tolerated and touted by many so-called churches and so-called pastors. But to turn against God and His Word—to celebrate what God forbids—will only lead to shame and destruction.

The Christian church is always counter-cultural—especially when she gathers around God’s Word and sacraments. Here the words are God’s Words. Here the music isn’t designed to entertain, but to confess the truth of our great God and to praise His holy name. The Divine Service is not earthly, but heavenly. This is truly heaven on earth. And you—you are a colony of heavenly citizens, stationed here temporarily until the day of your homecoming.

Your heavenly citizenship has everything to do with Jesus—who for us men and for our salvation came down from heaven. Jesus was the best citizen heaven ever had. Heaven was His home and He was but a stranger here. He left behind the kingdom and the power and the glory of heaven to take up residence here, as a human colonist on earth among sinners like us. He exchanged His heavenly throne for a manger in a stable—threw away His crown for a cross. Jesus became a citizen of this world for you. And the rulers of this world—rulers like Herod, Caiaphas, and Pilate—saw to it that Jesus would suffer and be crucified.

Jesus—the man from heaven—was crucified for you. His death was the necessary price to secure your heavenly citizenship. Only His blood would be sufficient to cleanse you from your sin and make you holy. Most of you became citizens of heaven on the day of your baptism. And this morning, heaven welcomed its newest citizen. Right here in water and the word, God Himself worked in little Jackson forgiveness of sins, rescue from death and the devil, and eternal salvation in His heavenly kingdom.

Beloved in the Lord, this good news about Jesus is called the gospel—and that’s what we’re all about here in this little outpost of heaven called Our Savior Evangelical Lutheran Church. Here we speak the language of heaven—the Word of God—to which we respond with prayers, praise and thanksgiving. Here we eat the food of heaven—the bread that is Jesus’ body and the wine that is Jesus’ blood—for the forgiveness of sins. And this is why the Divine Service is so important. It transforms you. It reminds you that through faith in Jesus Christ you are a citizen of heaven.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.