Sermon preached on Sunday 20th September 2026 based on Philippians 1:21- 30 and Matthew 20:1-16

May I speak and may you hear through the Grace of our Lord; Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen

I’m going to start by asking a couple of questions, that doesn’t need to be answered out loud, on a topic that some of you might find difficult and perhaps something you weren’t intending to contemplate when you came to church this morning, but which our readings, especially the Philippians one, asks us think about. So here goes, ‘How do you feel about dying, and are you afraid of death?

I’ll give you a moment, but for the majority of us I would guess that the question doesn’t require much imagination… As humans we instinctively cling to life. We make plans to protect our health and secure our future, and we treasure the people we love. Death can feel like an intrusion – the one thing that stands between us and everything we still hope to do.

But then we meet Paul, who is writing from prison, uncertain whether he will be released or executed. And remarkably, his circumstances don’t seem to have the final word over his joy or his purpose. What Paul says is, “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.”

This is not the language of a man who has stopped valuing life. It is the language of someone who has discovered that Christ is more valuable than life itself. If Paul lives, he belongs to Christ and can serve others. If Paul dies, he belongs to Christ and goes to be with him. Either way, his faith in Christ is enough.

This very thought was also expressed to me the other day in one of our explorer groups. We were thinking about heaven, and one of the members of the group said that they had realised that there was no need to be afraid of death any more now that they had come to faith. Whenever it was to happen, they believed that it would be a joy to be able to come into God’s presence at last… Which raises a question for us this morning ‘What is our life really about?’

Our passage from Philippians doesn’t only tell us how Paul viewed life and death. It challenges us to consider what happens when following Christ becomes the defining reality of our lives, especially when our circumstances change or when suffering comes; when the future is uncertain, and when faithfulness costs us something. For Paul, his life as a Christian was not ultimately about preserving a comfortable life; but about living a Christ-centred life, whatever comes. Paul’s life had a centre, and that centre was Christ. So maybe one of the questions that our reading put before us today, is ‘What is at the centre of our lives?’

Paul is not just saying, ‘I’m a Christian’. He is saying that Christ shapes how he lives, what he values and how he treats other people. He is saying that Christ shapes how he responds when life is difficult and shapes what he hopes for… the reason that he gets up in the morning. For Paul, Christ is not an addition to life… Christ is life.

Now we might be challenged by that thought, because too often we organise our lives around other things. For us, life might mean our family, our home or work. What we do to keep ourselves healthy or whether we have enough money, trying to make sure that everything is secure.

None of these things are necessarily bad. In fact, many of them could be seen as good gifts from God. But the problem comes when a good thing becomes the ultimate thing. Because sooner or later, every one of those things can change. Work can disappear. Money can become tight. Our health can fail. Children grow up and move away. People we love die. The future can suddenly look very different from the one we had imagined.

And that is particularly relevant in the world in which we live. We live with considerable uncertainty. We hear about wars and conflicts around the world. We see pressures on public services. Many households are feeling the continuing pressure of food, energy and housing costs. There are worries about the future of our children and grandchildren. And then there are the much more personal uncertainties: illness, bereavement, loneliness, family difficulties, retirement, caring responsibilities, and the simple question: “What happens next?”

The Christian faith doesn’t promise that these things won’t happen. Paul certainly wasn’t promised an easy life, but he had discovered something more secure. If Christ is at the centre, then even when circumstances change, our deepest foundation does not.

The theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote about the difference between merely admiring Jesus and actually allowing Jesus to shape our lives. One of his most famous phrases is, “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.” All pronouns being interchangeable. Those are challenging words. Bonhoeffer was not talking about seeking suffering for its own sake. He was talking about the death of the old self-centred way of living.

The Christian life means allowing Christ to take the centre. It means dying to our need to always be right, or to be admired. Dying to the constant question, “What about me?” Instead, we can discover the freedom to ask, ‘Lord, what would you have me do?’ When Paul says: ‘To me, living is Christ,’ he is not seeking death, he isn’t saying that life doesn’t matter.

Whilst he might be torn between the desire to die and be with Christ, he also remains convinced that remaining alive is necessary for the sake of others. The fact is that God has given each of us a life that can become a gift to others. Whether that’s through offering prayer, being a listening ear, visiting someone or volunteering, there are so many ways of serving Christ. Some of which are highly visible and many more that are not. Whichever, God sees them all.

Furthermore, church should be one of the places where people discover that they have a right to be here, whether that’s as long-term communicants or newcomers. We need to ensure that we are a community of grace, living in a manner worthy of the gospel.

Paul uses this language of community when he talks about, ‘striving side by side’. He wants the Philippians to stand firm together: “standing firm in one spirit, striving side by side with one mind for the faith of the gospel.” That is because Christian faith is not a solo project. We need one another. And that is something we sometimes forget.

We are a community. We are the body of Christ. We need people who are different from us. We need different generations. We need different personalities. We need people who have been Christians all their lives and people who are just beginning.

We need people who are confident and people who have doubts. We need those who are good at organising things and those whose greatest contribution may simply be prayer, and we need to remember that our differences don’t make us competitors, like the workers in the vineyard in Matthew’s gospel, they make us a community.

So, what might “to live is Christ” mean for us? Well, it might mean beginning the day with prayer rather than immediately beginning with the news on our phones. It might mean asking before making an important decision: “What would faithfulness to Christ look like here?”

It might mean refusing to measure our worth by how productive we are. It might mean being less anxious about what other people think of us. It might mean forgiving somebody we have carried resentment towards for years.

It might mean listening to somebody with whom we disagree. It might mean praying for our community, our nation and our world. And perhaps it means something even simpler: being prepared to ask God each morning, “Lord, what do you want me to do with this day?” Because every day is a gift. Even an ordinary day. Even a difficult day. Even a day when we feel that we haven’t achieved very much. God can use it.

Also, we don’t have to keep score, and perhaps this is where the two readings come together most powerfully. The workers in the vineyard wanted to keep score. Who had worked longest? Who deserves the most? Who came first? Who got what?

Paul had stopped keeping that kind of score. He has discovered something better. His life is no longer about establishing his own importance. His is about Christ. Paul says: “For to me, living is Christ and dying is gain.” We may not be able to say those words with Paul’s confidence. Because whilst our faith sometimes feels strong, at other times it feels fragile. There may be days when we feel close to God and days when God seems very distant. But perhaps we can begin somewhere simpler.

We can say: “Jesus, help me to put you at the centre.” At the centre of our work, our family life, our relationships. At the centre of our church. And if Christ is at the centre, then we don’t have to keep score or prove our worth. We don’t have to be frightened by change or resent God’s generosity to somebody else.

We can welcome the newcomer and encourage the young. We can honour the old and care for the lonely. We can forgive the difficult person and serve our neighbours. We can stand together when things are hard.

But above all we can trust that whatever happens to us or the Church, Christ remains at the centre. Because we are part of something much bigger than ourselves. The Church is not ours neither is the Gospel; they both belong to God. And the God who calls us into the vineyard is astonishingly generous.

Paul said, ‘To die is gain’, but that’s not for us to contemplate at this time. Instead, let’s go out from here this morning, not asking whether we have done enough to deserve God’s love. Let’s go knowing that we have already received it, and instead ask, ‘How can I spend this day for Christ?’

For now, that is enough

Amen.