“Imitate me,” Paul says. What an arrogant thing to say! “Imitate Christ” we can understand. But “Imitate me”? And notice the Christians he is addressing–the Philippians–a fellowship which from all appearances was already committed to Christ and unselfish with its love and resources. In II Corinthians Paul praises them for demonstrating the sacrificial love of God in their selfless devotion. “Imitate me” How dare Paul say such a thing to anyone, much less to the saints in Philippi!
Now for some time I have known that humility was not exactly Paul’s greatest gift from the Spirit. So when I first read this passage many years ago I just assumed it was an example of his arrogance. But over the years I have found that the problem was not with Paul; the problem was with me. I discovered an almost knee jerk reaction on my part. We’re all equal before God (that’s the stubborn Protestant in me coming out). We have all sinned. Jesus is the only real example we should follow. Because we’re not perfect, we shouldn’t expect to find models to emulate outside Christ.
But then I reflected on those thoughts, and I remembered of all those times I heard such excuses given for the failure of Christians and the church in faithfully following Jesus. Our world desperately needs models–living, breathing, flesh and blood heroes for Christ. But so often what we say is, “Oh, don’t look to us. We’re not perfect, you know. We’re only human. Jesus is the one you should look to. We’re just forgiven sinners. So don’t expect much from us.” Now I doubt if there is a minister preaching today who is as appreciative of the grace of God as the foundation of the gospel as I am. I know we are saved by grace. I can appreciate personally and pastorally that Good News. But when that Good News is used as a pathetic attempt to excuse our own neglect of discipleship, then what we think is proper humility may in fact be a camouflaged attempt to explain away our lack of growth in the Lord.
For most people in the world, the only Christ they will ever see will be the Christ they find in us. We are the flesh and blood of God’s presence today. And if we have taken seriously our walk with God–if we have followed Jesus in faithful, sacrificial, and loving ways–if the Lord has been our companion year after year–if we are being changed from one degree of glory into another in the likeness of Jesus, then we ought to provide a worthy example for others to emulate. And that’s not pride or arrogance. Anyone who has experienced the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ can never say “Imitate me” out of arrogance and pride. But those who cannot say “Imitate me” after years of following Jesus perhaps should ask why the Gospel has failed to produce in them the saints God has promised they would be if they would but turn their lives over to Jesus and walk in his footsteps.
The ultimate example will always be Jesus. At some point all of us are cast upon him for our guidance and salvation. But our world needs more proximate models closer in time and space if it is to behold the Lamb of God. That’s one reason Paul calls the church the Body of Christ. If we are the Body of Christ, then with proper humility and grace filled sincerity, we should be models/faith heroes for Christ. And when you stop to think about it, anything less is a denial of the power of the Good News we proclaim.
Now perhaps you still have a problem thinking of yourself as a model for the world to imitate. Perhaps you think you are inadequate in your ability to present anything to the world in the name of Jesus that could sow seeds of God’s presence in the lives of others. Let me give you two examples that may give you hope and encouragement; one from my own experience and one from a parable from the late Christian humorist Grady Nutt.
After my father’s death, my mother’s work as a church secretary became more important in terms of the household income. So all of us had to assume more responsibilities doing housework and caring for my grandmother and paralyzed uncle, both of whom lived with us. One chore my mother hated was ironing. My grandmother was unable to iron for so many people. I tried it once , and only once. We all decided that the clothes looked worse after I finished ironing them than before I began. So my mother found an elderly Black woman named Mamie to do the ironing.
Every Friday Mamie came to the house to do the week’s ironing. Over the years I learned quite a bit about Mamie. She was ancient by any standards. Her health was not the greatest, and she had very little of this world’s goods. She lost her husband many years ago. Her only child was a son who died of questionable causes while in the army during WW II. There was an investigation of sorts, but that was before many white people cared about a Black man in the army or anywhere else for that matter. She still grieved years after his death. She had the suspicion from what other GIs told her that her gentle son had been abused to the point of death. But she did not know for sure, and the uncertainty weighed heavily upon her soul. She had her church which was her anchor, her friends, and her patrons in the whites who employed her. But other than that she had very little. Mamie was, from what I could tell, illiterate. And she was simple in her faith. She talked to the Lord out loud. She sang hymns I knew, spirituals I had heard at one time or another, and a lot of religious songs I had never heard before or since. And, like St. Francis, she talked to the animals. She had many a conversation with our fox terrier Trixie. And he seemed to love and understand every minute of it.
For all her limitations, pain, and eccentricities, Mamie was an example we could imitate. You see, she was no stranger to joy. No matter what life had done to her and to those she loved, she could still sing. She could still live by the Golden Rule. And she could still love her enemies. I remember when Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated, Mamie came to work with a black mourning band around her sleeve. Some time later, being a college student with all the righteous indignation that brings, I asked her if she didn’t hate those who rejoiced in King’s death and continued to denigrate him. She responded that Dr. King (she always called him that) would not have liked that kind of response in her. She said, without a hint of anger or pride, “Jesus says we should love our enemies, and when you are as close to the Jordan as I am, you do well to listen to him.”
Over the years I have thought about Mamie. Somewhere in the sand hills of S.C. her body rests in a simple grave. But she stands before me as an example I can imitate. She knew joy even under the harsh, tragic, trying circumstances of her life. She knew and gladly embraced the cost of discipleship. And she walked and talked with her Lord. She was a model–a hero for Christ.
The second example I would share with you comes from a parable from the comedian Grady Nutt. Grady called this parable “the Gospel According to Norton.” In Grady’s fiction, Norton was a follower of Jesus who is not named in the Gospels. Originally Norton was a follower of John the Baptizer. One day John told Norton to leave him and to follow Jesus, whom John recognized to be the Christ. Understandably Norton was reluctant to leave John. The Baptizer had taken Norton under his wing, had loved him, guided him, and cared for him when no one else would, for Norton had an unsavory past. John had made all the difference in the world to Norton, so it was with great difficulty that Norton obeyed his master. But he went.
As the months passed, Norton learned so much from Jesus. He saw how much wiser and greater Jesus was than his former master. He realized that Jesus’ message of love, grace, forgiveness, mercy, and joy was light years ahead of John’s ranting and raving. Then one day Jesus and his disciples, with Norton among them, came close to where John was preaching. Norton, perhaps a little embarrassed about his former association with John, began to make fun of the fiery prophet. But Jesus took Norton aside and asked him, ”Norton, where would you be today if it hadn’t been for John?” And Norton understood immediately. Perhaps John was not the best example of God’s presence and will in the world. But John was enough when Norton needed him. And Norton knew that without John he would scarcely be where he was that day in communion with the Christ, the Son of the Living God.
Perhaps we feel we are too inadequate to be examples for others to follow. Maybe we don’t know enough or love enough. Maybe we feel lacking in so many areas. But there are many Nortons in this world who need us, deficient though we may be. Down the road they will learn in Jesus a more perfect pattern. But for now, it may well be that the only Christ they can see will be in us. And where would we be if it were not for all those imperfect examples who have carried us this far? And in God’s economy of grace, can we do any less for others? So, are you a model? You had better believe it!
