Year A: Palm/Passion Sunday | Philippians 2:5-11
St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church
March 29, 2026
the Rev. Jonathan Hanneman
To watch the full service, please visit this page (available for three weeks after the date of streaming).
“Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus…” – Philippians 2:5[1]
Our Philippians text today appears to be an ancient hymn. No one’s quite sure who wrote it. Maybe Paul broke into song while composing his letter. It could be something he had learned from the Philippians and was quoting back to them. Or it’s possible that this was well known enough to have passed from congregation to congregation from the earliest days of the Christian community. Wherever it may have come from, it appears to be the oldest Christian poetry on record.
People like to use this text—along with much of Paul’s other writing—to “prove” all sorts of things about Jesus, building various controversies out of it. Some point to it as evidence of Jesus’ divinity. Others point to it as proof of his humanity or his possession of both divine and human natures. Yet others have declared that it denies Jesus’ humanity, making him a truly and purely Divine being who just looks like a human. Many use to celebrate Jesus’ dominion over Creation—and then try to command that same power in the name of the Church. Argue what you want, but the very fact that we bicker and fight over this text, that we manipulate it to wrangle for control and use it to establish our own authority, means that we aren’t listening to it at all. In fact, that kind of behavior displays just how far we as Modern American Christians have departed from the New Testament’s basic proclamation.
Paul was not writing to establish either doctrine or dogma. He wasn’t using incredibly precise and specific terms to explain detailed processes or establish inviolable hierarchies. He wasn’t trying to delineate the only correct method of Christian worship. He was a pastor attempting to communicate with people from connected but distinct cultures across the ancient world. He wasn’t trying to disseminate facts as much as trying to help people understand how their commitment to Jesus might appear through their choices and behaviors within their own, unique contexts.
Earlier in Lent we talked about how, if we pay attention, the Bible presents the practices of fasting and sabbath (or rest) as opportunities to serve and provide for others. God isn’t going to give me the attention I want just because I choose to make myself miserable. If I want to challenge myself and build discipline, that’s fine, but the point of refraining from food (or other things) is so I can offer my excess to those in need. The purpose why Hebrew culture implemented sabbath days wasn’t so no one else could demand that I work but so that I could learn not to burden those around me, to allow others the opportunity to rest. That’s the kind of thing Paul is pointing us toward here.
There are two primary actors in this song, only one of whom is it possible for us to emulate. First we see Jesus, “who, though he existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped, but emptied”—essentially stripped—“himself.”[2] If Jesus was truly divine, he had the authority and right to behave however he wanted, to do whatever he very well pleased. But he rejected any right to power or prestige; he denied his own interests.
“Taking the form of a slave, assuming human likeness and being found in appearance as a human, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross.”[3] Divine or not, he recognized his own weak humanity and accepted a position of solidarity not with power brokers or politicians or taste makers of his day—which would have also been a big step down for a Divine being—but among the poor. In fact, he remained faithful to God’s example of generosity, service, and love to the point where we who do wield power couldn’t stand to be confronted with our own inadequacy. Rather than live in light of our own, obvious failure, we forced upon him the most shameful death we had available. And he accepted it, which might just be the most Divine thing he ever did.
I say that because God’s nature is not to command and control, to manipulate and maneuver so circumstances fall the way they want. God is not King so much as Servant and Source, a Provider constantly giving of themself so the rest of us can live. What we do with God’s gifts is on us, not God. What we do with God’s Son—any of God’s children, really—is equally on us. We fear what we deserve because we know what we deserve. We regularly see what happens when authority outstrips character, and anyone paying attention knows the flaws and fragility of their own heart.
But thankfully, we are not in charge, and human judgment is not final. We see that in the second primary actor in our text.
God, as Source and Provider, isn’t entirely absent from the scene, too overwhelmed by their day job to intervene once in a while. And in Jesus’ case, God does. As deep as Jesus allowed himself to go, moldering not only in the grave but in the Underworld itself,[4] “God exalted him even more highly and gave him the name that is above every other name.”[5] God responds to fidelity. God will honor those who recognize and embody God’s example. God, as the Source of Life, chooses to continue offering life no matter our penchant to inflict Death.
And that is why we follow Jesus’ example with our own lives. While it’s true “that at the name given to Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father,”[6] we aren’t in this for power or afterlife rewards or even because we want to be seen siding with the good guys. None of us will somehow achieve such a name as Jesus—that one’s already taken. We follow Jesus because we’ve seen the success of his example. We emulate Jesus because of God’s response to how he lived. We walk the footsteps of the one who walked God’s footsteps. We choose the same path of humility, service, and love—not for individual recognition and glory, for self-satisfaction or pride in our own efforts, but so we too might somehow receive Resurrection Life.
So as we head into Holy Week, consider our Redeemer and Savior. Pay close attention this Thursday, Friday, and Saturday; learn from—and then, within your own circumstances, actively emulate—his example.
“Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.”
[1] All Bible quotations are from the NRSVue unless otherwise noted.
[2] Philippians 2:6-7
[3] Philippians 2:7-8
[4] The concept behind the line “he descended to the dead” in the Apostles’ Creed (the concept of which is explicitly referenced in the “under the earth”—lit. “of those Underworldly”—phrase at the end of verse 10).
[5] Philippians 2:9
[6] Philippians 2:10-11