Let the same mind be in you
that was in Christ Jesus,
who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death —
even death on a cross.

Did you hear it? He emptied himself. He humbled himself and became one of us.

Do you remember how we started this journey, this thing in the Church we call Lent? It was here in the church. Here at the altar. With songs and prayers for forgiveness and mercy. And it was here with ashes on our foreheads to remind us that we were made from the dust of the earth – that we need our God, our Creator so much. And that without him we are dust. Do you remember that night… here at the altar? That’s how this journey began. On the night we call Ash Wednesday.

And the night before that? We had pancakes.

It’s a wonderful old tradition called Fat Tuesday. Or Mardi Gras it is in the French language. It ages past it was the night before the Lenten fast began. When Christians would give up rich foods. Not just steak and pork chops, mind you, but things like sugar and butter and flour and eggs.

Sugar, butter, flour and eggs… When you put all that together, you have pancakes. Wonderful, rich, fluffy pancakes.
So it gave them an idea. “All of this stuff has to be out of the house when Lent begins,” they thought. Because… you know how it is. If the chocolate bar’s there where you can see it. Chances are… You’re going to eat it. Same thing with sugar, butter, flour and eggs. At least, in those days. “So if we have to get rid of it before Ash Wednesday, when Lent begins. Why not eat it? Have a big party, a feast the night before.” So they called it Mardi Gras. Fat Tuesday it means. Because that was the day they got all the fat – all the butter and lard and all that goes with it out of the house! I mean, that’s what they said… But really it was just an excuse to eat pancakes… with honey and sweet cream and Mrs. Butterworth’s or whichever they had.

So we had a pancake supper on Fat Tuesday before Ash Wednesday here at the church. Pancakes and waffles. The big ones. With sausage and bacon and fruit toppings and whipped cream. And nuts, mind you. They had it all. And… It was wonderful wasn’t it? The food the fellowship. Everything! It was just wonderful.

And here’s the thing… Pancakes don’t always turn out that way. Because some assembly is required. And that can be a real problem for some of us. Especially, for little boys who want to surprise their moms and dads with breakfast in bed…

Which is exactly what happened to a six-year-old boy named Donny. It was early Saturday morning when parents think that six-year-old people should still be in bed. (Because that’s where they are and they want to stay there as long as they can.) Donny wanted to surprise them with breakfast. They would wake up, smell the pancakes and just be delighted that they had such a wonderful son.

So he went into the kitchen, looked through the cabinets, found big bowl and a really big spoon. And he was in business! The kid felt like Bobby Flay – like Emeril, on TV, cooking up some fine New Orleans Mardi Gras pancakes for his studio audience. So he pulled a chair up to the kitchen counter, climbed up on top of it, and pulled out the big container of flour… and spilled it. All of it nearly. On the floor.

“Five second rule!” he thought… And then very quickly (at first) he scooped up some of the flour and put it into the bowl with his hands. And then he mixed in a cup of milk and added some sugar. And by that time there were little white footprints all over the kitchen, because Donny’s kitten had walked through the flour there on the floor. And Donny was pretty much covered with flour, too!

And… he was getting frustrated. Really frustrated. He just… he wanted to do something nice for his mom and dad. But everything was going wrong. And nothing was going right. And he didn’t know what to do next, whether to put it all into the oven or on the stove. (The truth is he really didn’t know how the stove worked!)

Suddenly he saw his kitten licking from the bowl of pancake mix and he reached up to pull her away. And when he did… he knocked a whole carton of eggs off the counter and onto the floor! And he tried to hurry and clean it all up, but he slipped on the eggs and fell and got his pajamas dirty. Just grubby with flour and egg and sugar. I mean, the kid was a mess.

And just then… he saw his dad standing at the door. Big crocodile tears welled up in Donny’s eyes. And all he wanted was to do something good. But he’d made a terrible mess. And he was sure his dad would scold him and send him to his room. But he didn’t. His father just watched him. And then, Donny’s father walked… Through the mess… And he picked up his crying son. And he hugged him. And he loved him, getting his own pajamas pretty messy, too.

He came to him. The father came to the child. And he reached out to him. And embraced him, mind you. Getting the mess the child made on himself.

Oh, did you hear? Did you hear what Paul said about Jesus?

He was in the form of God,
[but] did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,
[as something to cling to]
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death —
even death on a cross.

There was another boy named Johnny, a third grader who was sitting in class. Paying attention. Until all of a sudden a little voice inside said, “It’s time to go.” And he knew that it was.

But Johnny was a little bashful when it came to such things. He thought he could make it till lunchtime. So he waited. Crossed his legs and fingers, held on to his desk, and waited. “If I wait long enough,” he thought, it’ll go away.”

But it didn’t go away. It got worse. So he tightened his grip on the desk, clenched his teeth, wrinkled his nose… and the urge became stronger. He wished with all of his heart it would just go away.  It did. All at once. Right down his pant leg onto the floor. And when he looked down to confirm with his eyes what he felt in his khakis, he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that something so awful had happened to him — a third grader, mind you!

He was ashamed. Humiliated. He thought he’d just die… right there at his desk! Because he knew what would happen when all the other guys in class found out. They’d laugh. They’d make fun of him. Call him names. Horrible names that would haunt him for the rest of his life! And when the girls found out… It would be worse. They’d giggle and turn up their noses and say, “That’s sooo gross!” Oh, it was awful. His heart was broken, his pants were wet, and he was ashamed.

It might seem like an odd time to pray, but he did. “Dear God, please help me! If they find out my life will be over!” And he opened his eyes and looked down to see if his prayer had been answered. But all the evidence was still there. And when he looked up, the teacher was coming toward him.

His heart sank. Because she would see it – that’s the thing about khakis, just get them damp and it’s like night and day, dark and light. So everybody would know. The whole class. The whole school! And that’s how they would remember him forever. “He’s the kid who wet his pants in third grade!”

Well… when the teacher was just a few steps away, a girl named Susie walked by his desk. And she was carrying a big glass bowl — the kind you put goldfish in. And it was filled up with water for an experiment they were about to do in class. And right there in front of the teacher, Susie slipped and stumbled and dumped the whole thing right in Johnny’s lap! And when she did, of course, Johnny jumped to his feet threw his hands in the air and said, “Oh, no!” But inside he was saying, “Yes! Thank you, Lord!”

In that split second everything changed. The boy who would have been shamed and mocked and laughed at for days, was surrounded by people who felt sorry for him and wanted to help him. Grabbing paper towels. Soaking up the water and saying, “Poor Johnny.” And just like that this terribly bashful young boy became the most popular kid in class that day. All day long!

But the shaming and mocking didn’t just go away. It all went to Susie — the little girl who had stumbled. Klutz they called her. Miss Grace. Treated her horribly they did. And that’s how it was that whole day at school. Johnny got lots and lots of attention — even made some new friends. But Susie was shunned and shamed.

At the end of the day, Susie was waiting, alone, for the bus. And Johnny walked over and stood beside her. And he looked down at the ground and almost in a whisper he said, “You did it on purpose didn’t you?”

Susie nodded. Johnny said, “How come?”

And Susie said, “I wet my pants once, too. I know how it feels.”

Oh, did you hear?
Jesus – the Christ — was in the form of God,
[but he] did not regard equality with God
as something to something to cling to,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death —
even death on a cross.

That’s what Jesus did. He humbled himself. He emptied himself. For you. For me. The Son of God. Jesus. Emmanuel. God-in-the-flesh humbled himself for us…. Do you remember what Saint John, the Beloved Disciple said about him in the opening verses of the Gospel. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God. The Word was God, says John. And through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. That’s who he was. That’s who he is. And John says, The Word became flesh. He became one of us. 
There is a lovely old hymn that says, “Stoop to my weakness, mighty as Thou art.” And that’s what he did. The Son of the living God. The Son who was and is and will always be God, humbled himself. He stooped low for us. This Heavenly King who knelt to wash the dirty feet of the very people who would deny and betray and desert him.

And not only that, he bent down, threw his arms around us and loved us as messy as we are. And he got our mess, our sins, our stain, our grime and ungodliness on himself. All over himself. Just so he could love us and bring us back to the Father.

And just like Susie, the little girl with the fishbowl, he took our shame. He humbled himself. God in the flesh, full of glory and honor and power and majesty, took the shame and dishonor and brokenness that was ours and put it on himself. Becoming a servant. A slave – an obedient slave – to the point of his own death. Even death on a cross like some common criminal.

And all of this he did for you. For me. For all…

Tony Campolo, the preacher, says he doesn’t remember a lot about his father. What he does remember is that he was a gentle, quiet man who said very little. But there was one time his father spoke and his words made a great and lasting impact on Tony – and on who he would become as an adult.

They were in church. A communion Sunday it was, says Tony. And the pastor had preached a sermon on the verse in 1 Corinthians 11 where Paul says, “Whoever eats this bread and drinks this cup (the Lord’s Supper, mind you) in an unworthy manner will be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord.” And as the sermon drew to a close, a young woman in the pew in front of them started to cry. And he said her whole body was shaking as she wept. And it was clear that this sermon had gotten to her… that there was some sin or some mess (some kind of brokenness) in her life that made her feel guilt and shame. Something that made her feel completely unworthy of the body and blood of Christ. And, in that church, the people remained in their seats as the bread and the wine was passed from pew to pew. And as the tray was of bread was offered to her, she waved it off and cried even more.

It was at that point, says Tony, that his father put his hand on her shoulder and, in his broken English and heavy Italian accent said, “Take it girl… It was meant for you.”

The young woman pulled herself together, received the bread and then the cup. And Tony says he had the feeling that his father’s words had overridden the sermon and helped that young woman know that, even though there was sin in her life – even though she had made a mess of things – there was a Savior full of grace who was willing to throw his arms around her and love he. Even though she was unworthy. And Tony says that from that day on, he has become more and more aware that Jesus humbled himself. That he gives himself to us. And that, as Paul says, shows his love to us in that while we were still sinners – while we were still stained, still messed up, still covered with the grime and dust and ashes of sin and self-centeredness – gave his life for us. And delivered us from sin and death and anything at all that would come between us and the God who loves us…

Let the same mind be in you
that was in Christ Jesus,
who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death —
even death on a cross.

Will you bear with me a little longer…

Have you heard of Brennan Manning? He is a Franciscan Friar and priest and a wonderful writer. And he has an amazing story about how he got the name “Brennan.” Because that wasn’t his name at all. It wasn’t what the Mr. And Mrs. Manning gave him when he was born back in the Great Depression. That name was Richard Francis Xavier Manning.

When he was growing up, his best friend was a kid named Ray. And the two of them were like peas in a pod. They did everything together. Bought a car together as teenagers. They double dated together. Went to school together. Everything was together. Richard (Francis Xavier) and Ray even enlisted in the Army together. They went to boot camp together. And they fought on the frontlines together.
And one night while they were sitting in a foxhole, Richard (Manning) was reminiscing about the old days in Brooklyn. And Ray was listening and eating a chocolate bar. All of a sudden a live grenade came into the foxhole. Ray looked at Richard, smiled, dropped his chocolate bar, and threw himself on the live grenade. And… it exploded, killing Ray. But Richard Manning’s life was spared.

Well… when Richard was ordained a priest in the Franciscan Order, he was asked to take on the name of a saint. And he thought of his friend, Ray Brennan. So he chose to receive the name “Brennan.”

Years later he went to visit Ray’s mother in Brooklyn. And they sat up late one night having tea. And Father Brennan (Manning) asked her, “Do you think Ray loved me?”

Mrs. Brennan got up off the couch. She shook her finger in front of Father Brennan’s face and said, “What more could he have done for you? What more could he have done?”

And Father Brennan said that at that moment he experienced something like a revelation. He said, he imagined himself standing before the cross of Jesus wondering, Does God really love me? Does God really love me? And Jesus’ mother Mary was pointing to her son, saying, “What more could he have done for you?”

Oh… do you see? All of this he did…
he did not regard equality with God
as something to cling to,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death —
even death on a cross.

All of this he did for you.

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