Memorial of Saint Charles Borromeo, Bishop · Thirty-First Week in Ordinary Time
LECTIONARY № 487 · WEEKDAY YEAR II
Work out your salvation with fear and trembling. For Theos is the one who, for his good purpose, works in you both to desire and to work.
— Philippians 2:12–13
The hymn has just finished. Paul quoted seven verses of poetry about someone who emptied himself, and now — with hōste, therefore — he turns to what the congregation is supposed to do about it. This is the applied half of yesterday's reading, and it starts with a sentence that has been fought over for fifteen hundred years.
What happens
"My beloved, obedient as you have always been, not only when I am present but all the more now when I am absent, work out your salvation with fear and trembling. For Theos is the one who, for his good purpose, works in you both to desire and to work. Do everything without grumbling or questioning, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of Theos without blemish in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you shine like lights in the world, as you hold on to the word of life… But, even if I am poured out as a libation upon the sacrificial service of your faith, I rejoice and share my joy with all of you."
What to notice
Put Philippians 2:12 and Philippians 2:13 side by side and refuse to soften either. Tēn heautōn sōtērian katergazesthe — "work out your own rescue", katergazomaibeing the intensive form, to carry a thing through to completion. And then theos gar estin ho energōn en hymin — "for Theos is the one energizing in you."The two sentences are joined by gar, "for," which makes the second the reason for the first, not a qualification of it. Paul is not saying do your part and Theos will do his; he is saying work it out, because he is the one at work. And energōn is a strong verb whose object is not the outcome but the will itself: to thelein kai to energein, both the wanting and the working.The divine action reaches upstream of the decision.Chōris gongysmōn — "without grumblings" — is not neutral in a Greek Bible: gongysmos is the Septuagint's technical term for the murmuring of Israel in the wilderness (Exodus 16:7, Numbers 14:27, over and over). Paul is telling a quarrelling congregation not to become the wilderness generation — and then presses it with a quotation most readers walk past. Genea skolia kai diestrammenē, "a crooked and perverted generation," is lifted from Deuteronomy 32:5, the Song of Moses, where it describes Israel.Paul takes the label Moses applied to the murmurers, hands it to the surrounding world, and tells the Philippians not to earn it back.Phōstēres en kosmō is usually "lights in the world," but phōstēr is specific: it is what Genesis 1:14 in Greek calls the sun and moon. Not lamps someone lit — heavenly bodies. Then a small ambiguity worth keeping: logonzōēs epechontes — epechō can mean holding fast (gripping it for yourself) or holding out (extending it to others), and the Greek does not decide. And the last image is the most self-effacing thing in the letter: spendomai epi tē thysia, "poured out as a libation over the sacrifice of your trust." In the rite the spondē is the wine poured beside the offering, the accompaniment. The Philippians' faith is the sacrifice; Paul's death is the drink poured alongside it. He is writing from prison, and he assigns himself the supporting role.
Psalm 27 is famously two psalms in one mood: serene confidence through Psalm 27:6, then an abrupt turn to urgent petition — hear my voice when I cry, do not hide your face — from Psalm 27:7. The lectionary takes the opening, the great central request, and the closing, and leaves the anxious middle out.
The selected verses
Psalm 27:1."Yahweh is my light and my salvation; whom should I fear? Yahweh is my life's refuge; of whom should I be afraid?" Psalm 27:4."One thing I ask of Yahweh; this I seek: to dwell in the house of Yahweh all the days of my life, that I may gaze on the loveliness of Yahweh and contemplate his temple." Psalm 27:13–14."I believe that I shall see the bounty of Yahweh in the land of the living. Wait for Yahweh with courage; be stouthearted, and wait for Yahweh."
What to notice
Achat sha'alti me-et Yahweh, otah avaqqesh — "one thing I have asked of Yahweh, that is what I seek." The line is built as a reduction: a man with a long list crosses items off until one is left. And the one thing he keeps is not rescue, or victory, or vindication — all of which the rest of the psalm shows he badly wants. It is residence. The two verbs in Psalm 27:4 are worth separating. Lachazot b'noam Yahweh, to gaze on the noam of Yahweh, where noam is delightfulness, pleasantness — a word for beauty rather than for glory. And l'vaqqer b'heikhalo is usually "to contemplate his temple," but baqar is technical: it is what a priest does when he inspects an animal for blemishes. To baqar is to look carefully, professionally, for defects. He asks to spend his life looking at something closely enough to check it.Psalm 27:13 carries one of the scribal curiosities of the Hebrew Bible: the word lulei, "unless," is marked with puncta extraordinaria, dots the Masoretes placed over letters to flag something odd. The sentence as written is a conditional whose second half never arrives — "unless I had trusted that I would see the goodness of Yahweh in the land of the living —" and then nothing. The scribes did not fix it. They marked it and left it standing, which is considerable restraint, and the broken sentence is more eloquent than the repair would have been. The last verse says one thing twice: qavveh el Yahweh… v'qavveh el Yahweh.Qavah is not passive; the root connects to a cord pulled taut. It is waiting under tension, not waiting in a chair.
He has left the Pharisee's dinner. Syneporeuonto de autō ochloi polloi — great crowds were travelling with him — and the word matters: they are on the road to Jerusalem, in company, and the mood is good. He turns around (strapheis) and says the hardest thing in Luke.
What happens
"Great crowds were traveling with Jesus, and he turned and addressed them, 'If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple. Which of you wishing to construct a tower does not first sit down and calculate the cost to see if there is enough for its completion?… Or what king marching into battle would not first sit down and decide whether with ten thousand troops he can successfully oppose another king advancing upon him with twenty thousand troops? But if not, while he is still far away, he will send a delegation to ask for peace terms. In the same way, everyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple.'"
What to notice
Ou misei — "does not hate." Matthew's version reads lovesmore than me (Matthew 10:37), and it is often assumed Luke means the same thing in blunter clothes; the Semitic idiom does use hate for the un-preferred option, as when Genesis 29:31 says Leah was hated.But Luke wrote the harsh verb and Matthew wrote the mild one, and the difference between two evangelists working from one tradition is itself information. The list ends in an unexpected place — father, mother, wife, children, brothers, sisters, and moreover his own life.The self is the last item on the list of relatives. Then two miniature parables, both opening tis ex hymōn, "which of you," the form that invites the audience to supply the obvious answer. Both are about calculation: the builder psēphizei tēn dapanēn, counts the cost (from psēphos, the pebble used on a counting board), and the king bouleusetai, takes counsel, weighing ten thousand against twenty thousand. And both men sit down to do it — kathisas prōton, in each story — which is the opposite of the crowd's current posture, walking along enthusiastically. Now the part usually missed. Neither story ends in success. The builder's calculation is illustrated by his failure: he lays a foundation, runs out, and is mocked. The king's calculation returns the answer no — ten against twenty — and what he does with the answer is send an embassy to ask for terms of peace. He does not raise more troops, train harder, or find allies. He surrenders before contact. Which is why Luke 14:33 says what it says. If the parables meant make sure you can afford it, the conclusion would be therefore count carefully. It is not: it is whoever does not say goodbye to all his own possessions cannot be my disciple — apotassomai, the verb for taking leave, the word you use when parting from someone at a door. The conclusion drawn from the arithmetic is not that you should find the resources. It is that you should send the delegation.
How They Fit Together
Effort and its insufficiency, and neither reading resolves it the expected way
Sit down and count — and then discover you cannot afford it
Today's readings are all about the relationship between effort and its insufficiency, and none of them resolves it in the direction one expects.
Paul writes the two clauses in a single breath and joins them with for.Work out your own rescue with fear and trembling — for Theos is the one energizing in you both the willing and the working. The logic is not a division of labor; if it were, the connective would be but. Paul says the reason to work is that someone else is working, and he puts the divine activity upstream of the will itself — to thelein, the wanting — which removes even the choosing from the list of things one contributes unaided. And his conclusion from this is not relaxation but fear and trembling, which is what you feel when the thing happening through you is larger than you are.
Then Luke, who runs the same paradox as narrative. Two men sit down to calculate, which is exactly the prudent thing to do, and Jesus commends the sitting down. But look at what the calculations return. The builder's is illustrated by a half-built tower and public laughter. The king's returns a two-to-one deficit. Neither parable is about someone who counted and found he had enough. And the conclusion Jesus draws — renounce everything — is the king's move, not the builder's: when the numbers say you cannot win, you send the embassy and ask for terms.
So the gospel's counsel is: do the arithmetic honestly, and then act on the answer. The answer is that you are outnumbered.
Which is why Psalm 27 sits between them so well. Achat sha'alti — one thing I have asked. The psalm belongs to a man in serious trouble; the verses the lectionary omits are full of enemies, false witnesses, and a fear that Theos will hide his face. He does not ask for the trouble to end. He asks to live in the house and look at something beautiful for the rest of his life — and the verb he uses for looking is the one a priest uses to inspect an animal closely for flaws. The request is reduced to a single item, and the item is proximity.
And then the psalm breaks off mid-sentence — unless I had trusted that I would see the goodness of Yahweh in the land of the living — with no second half, marked by scribal dots and left unrepaired for two thousand years. The one thing today's readings agree on is that the sentence does not finish on our side of it. Paul's answer is he is the one working. Luke's is send the delegation. The psalm's is wait — and wait.
A Question to Sit With
The king sat down, counted, found himself outnumbered two to one, and sent for the terms while the other army was still far away. It is a competent decision and it is also a defeat, and Jesus attaches the whole teaching to it. I am reasonably good at the sitting down and counting. What I resist is the answer — I would rather recount, or find allies, or make the tower smaller. What am I currently trying to finance that the arithmetic has already told me I cannot afford?