In amongst all of the horrors of this Russian invasion of Ukraine…

but something that’s not been widely reported––

certainly not in our mainstream media––

has been the response of Patriarch Kirill…

the head of the Russian Orthodox Church.

Kirill and the Russian president–– 

Vladimir Putin––

it seems…

are on close personal terms.

And… 

in the face of this brutal and indiscriminate onslaught…

Kirill has not been a voice for peace.

Quite the opposite!

He has gone out of his way to support Putin, the Russian state, and the Russian military;

he has ardently repeated the official government line, and Putin’s propaganda, almost verbatim;

and he has justified his country’s invasion as a struggle against “sin” and “evil”, and the decadent corruption of the West… 

which, he claims, was trying to force them to hold “gay parades”.

According to one Orthodox theologian…

since the fall of the Soviet Union, the Russian Orthodox Church has worked hard…

and successfully…

“to link Russian identity with Orthodox identity”––

such that, to be Russian meant to be Orthodox…

and vice versa.

In so doing, Putin has effectively made the Church a de facto “department of state”…

and supported Kirill and his control of the Church;

while Kirill has helped to supply a religious ideology to buttress Putin’s imperialist visions.

 

Of course…

throughout history…

the church has–– 

sometimes enthusiastically and sometimes reluctantly—

become the tool or the partner of a particular national government…

a particular political ideology…

or a particular culture.

The bulk of the German churches in the nineteen-thirties supported Hitler;

the Dutch Reformed Church in South Africa embraced the policy of Apartheid.

It’s been happening…

in effect…

ever since Constantine co-opted the church for his own ends…

back in the early fourth century.

I understand how and why it happened, historically.

But I find it hard to comprehend, theologically.

The whole story and belief structure of Christianity… 

is centred on an individual who was tried and executed by the State––

as, ostensibly, a political revolutionary.

It’s first and chief apologist––

namely, Paul––

was, at best, subtly antagonistic to the Roman Empire and its imperial ideology;

and, at worst, openly hostile.

And, although it may not be apparent from an initial glance…

our reading, this morning, from Philippians is one of the prime examples of that attitude.

The Philippian Christians––

who are Roman citizens–– 

are experiencing conflict with their wider community.

Having grown up worshipping their traditional Roman gods––

including worshipping the Emperor––

they had turned their backs on that.

Within the Roman worldview, that posed a threat to the whole community.

It was believed that their peace and security depended on maintaining the goodwill of the gods…

by offering the appropriate rites and sacrifices.

But the Christians weren’t doing that.

And the rest were afraid that the gods would be offended and punish them.

More than that…

they took it as a personal affront.

So much of the life of their community revolved around religion.

And, within first century Roman culture…

it was common to belong to a religious “club”.

People would come together to say prayers and make offerings to a god––

and, at Philippi, it would often be to a particular god and the Emperor––

and then, having made their offerings…

they shared a meal and drank wine;

often lots of wine.

They paid a small fee to belong to the club…

and they paid a small fee for the meal…

and, when they died, the club would pay for their funeral.

For many of the poorer citizens, it was the only guarantee they had of a decent burial.

As such they were popular.

We know of several from the small town of Philippi.

If you had been an active member of one of those clubs…

and you became a Christian and turned your back on it…

then the remaining members would have been offended;

and that sense of offence would have been personal and social…

but also religious, and political.

Those things were all intimately entwined in the first century.

 

So, if you started copping abuse for leaving…

turning your back on your friends…

offending their religious sensibilities…

endangering their sense of peace and security…

and behaving in a way that was borderline disloyal or treasonous…

and if that abuse became entrenched…

and exacerbated…

so that it started to affect every aspect of your life in the town…

then you would try to find some way to resolve it.

Reading between the lines of Paul’s letter…

that’s what some of them did.

Some of the Philippian Christians returned to the clubs to which they used to belong.

They started offering prayers and sacrifices to the gods and to the Emperor.

Now…

within the Roman religious mindset…

belief and practice were two separate things.

It didn’t matter what you believed about the gods…

or what you thought of them…

only that you performed the appropriate rites and sacrifices.

So…

some of the Philippian Christians reasoned that it was okay to believe in Jesus…

and simply go through the motions of their former social, religious, and political practices.

 

But Paul took issue with it.

 

He describes those who do this as “enemies of the cross of Christ”. 

And remember… 

of course… 

that the cross was the chief form of execution for political revolutionaries by the Roman state.

Paul criticises them for making their “belly” into their “god”—

a denigration of the religious club’s feasting and drinking.

And Paul claims they held as praiseworthy things that were shameful.

That’s actually a slightly coded statement.

It’s picking up the sorts of criticisms that were levelled at religious clubs by the well-to-do…

and by first-century Hebrew writers…

who assumed that… 

if the clubs were gathering to eat and drink…

then they were probably getting up to all sorts of inappropriate sexual activity as well.

 

Then, Paul offers his decisive counter-argument:

“But our commonwealth is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ”. 

This is the only time that Paul combines the terms “Saviour” and “Lord” in reference to Christ.

And these two terms were ones that… 

together… 

were frequently used for the Roman Emperor.

So…

at this point… 

Paul is deliberately contrasting Christ and the Emperor;

he’s deliberately setting them up in opposition.

And he claims that our “commonwealth” is in heaven––

and, by implication not in or of this world.

Now that term particular, in the Greek, is an unusual one.

And it’s a very technical term.

It’s a collective noun referring to a citizen-body.

And, in the first century, it’s one that was used to refer to the Roman citizen-body;

that is, the body of Roman citizens.

The sense is of that collective body of citizens to which you belong;

to which you owe allegiance and loyalty;

and which shapes your norms, values, beliefs, and customs.

 

So, Paul is making a very powerful and a very provocative claim here.

 

As Christians…

the only political body to which we belong––

and within which we find our identity;

the only political body to which we owe allegiance and loyalty;

the only political body which shapes our norms, values, beliefs, and customs…

is the kingdom of God.

Any other political allegiance–– 

including whom we support democratically––

is subservient to that.

And on this, there can be no compromise!