Sermon-Who is Jesus? Who am I? Who am I becoming?

Georges Rouault, Christ (1925–27)

A sermon given during Holy Communion at St Olave Hart Street on Sunday 27^th September 2026 (Year A, Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity) based on readings from Philippians 2.1–13; Matthew 21.23–32 and a week before our Confirmation Service.

Who is Jesus?

Who am I?

Who is the person I am becoming through my relationship with him? 

Big, searching—some might say fundamental—questions for us as people of faith. 

And helpful questions to have in mind whenever we hear or read any passage from the Bible. 

Questions which are themselves all rooted in scripture. 

In just a few short paragraphs, this morning’s passage from St Paul’s letter to the Philippians offers a beautifully written, inspiring and challenging answer to all three. 

Paul writes to his friends in Philippi from prison. The church there was facing pressures of its own, both within and outside the community. 

We tend not to ask the big questions only when life is difficult. But pressure can make them harder to avoid. 

Paul writes into their difficulty from the midst of his own, offering words of encouragement and hope. Look out for one another. Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus. 

And then he tells them who Christ is: the one who, though in the form of God, did not cling to his divine status, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave. He became human and was obedient even to death on a cross. And God exalted him. 

Some of the most beautiful verses about who Jesus is in the whole Bible. 

They are sometimes called the Christ hymn. We don’t know whether Paul used words already familiar to the Philippians or composed them for this letter. Whatever their origin, they draw us into the mystery of the incarnation—God with us—and trace Christ’s path through the cross to glory. 

We can see something of that journey in our East Window. Christ dying on the cross; beside him, Christ in glory. A visual representation of what Paul holds together in these few remarkable lines.  

The one who takes the servant’s place is the one whom God exalts. 

For Paul, that is who Jesus is. 

One who embodies humility and love. 

This beautiful poem or hymn is not offered simply for our admiration or aesthetic pleasure. He begins, “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.” The hymn is a mirror in which to examine our own lives, and an invitation to become more like the Christ we see there.

So we ask, who am I? 

We may find it challenging to consider that question in light of Paul’s letter. Do you, like me, recognise the selfish ambition and conceit that he warns us of. The desire to protect our own positions. To ensure my concerns are heard before those of another? 

But Paul does not portray the Philippians - or any of us - as hopeless cases. But as works in progress. We have already received encouragement in Christ, consolation through his love and fellowship in the Spirit. Through our baptism we have been called into the very life of God. 

So who am I becoming through my relationship with Jesus?

Someone learning, slowly, to share the mind of Christ. To see as he sees. To see one another as occassions for joy, formed in the likeness of God who is working within them. Someone seeking to become more like Christ – fully aware of the difficulty of that task. 

Next Sunday at our Harvest Festival a number of people will be confirmed by Bishop David. A response to a desire they feel within themselves to grow more into the likeness of Christ. To become the person that God made them to be. To become more truly who they are. To embark on a new chapter in a lifelong journey of transformation that we call discipleship. 

The decision to follow that call is ours and ours alone. And we can refuse it. 

In our gospel reading the chief priests and elders come to Jesus and ask, “By what authority are you doing these things?”

Not an unreasonable question - challenging power and authority is important.

But Jesus’ reply shows they are unwilling to accept the truth or let it change them.

He asks them whether John’s baptism came from heaven or from human beings. Instead of answering with what they believe to be true, they weigh up the cost of each answer in terms of its implication for their status and standing.

If they say one thing, Jesus will challenge them and they will look like fools. If they say the other, the crowd may turn against them. So they say they do not know.

Jesus then tells a short parable about two sons asked to work in their father’s vineyard. One says he will not go, but later changes his mind and goes. The other says he will go, but does not. 

Which one did his father’s will, Jesus asks?

This time they do answer, correctly.

The first - they say.

They know which son did the father’s will. 

But Jesus is asking them to see something more uncomfortable: whether they themselves are willing to change their minds and respond to God.

He tells them that the tax collectors and prostitutes believed John. People whose lives the religious leaders might have looked down on heard his call - pointing to Jesus - and responded to it. 

The leaders saw this happening, and yet still did not change their minds.

In the parable, the son who first said no was not trapped by his answer. He could reconsider. He could go into the vineyard after all. But the leaders, fearful of losing face, losing their status, cannot not bring themselves to do likewise. They choose superiority over servanthood.

The son’s first answer was not his final answer. And in Christ, neither need ours be. 

The question “Who am I becoming?” is not only about the distant future. It is about what I do when Christ’s words reach me today. 

Can I admit that I have been wrong? Can I set aside the need to appear certain or act according to a familiar pattern without thinking whether it is actually right? Can I take the next step Christ asks of me, even if to do so is uncomfortable?

Next Sunday, those being confirmed will answer the call of Christ for themselves. But it won’t be a one-off. None of us says yes just once. A life of discipleship will include moments when we have to reconsider, turn around and go into the vineyard. The liturgy of the church helps us revisit these important, fundamental questions. And we do so together.

Who is Jesus? The servant who speaks through scripture and the Spirit, described in Paul’s hymn - in our window - whom God exalts. Who am I? Someone still learning to respond to him. Who am I becoming? Well, Paul leaves us with a promise. God is at work in us, enabling us both to will and to do. 

We may know the right thing to do and still struggle to do it. We may believe and still have questions. We may say yes to Christ and find ourselves needing, again and again, to turn towards him for the strength to do his will.

That is the holy tension in which we live. Following Christ does not make every choice easy or answer every question. But we do not have to find our way alone. Christ is with us.

Next Sunday’s confirmation will not resolve all the questions for those making their promises. It will mark another chapter in the journey of becoming who God calls them to be. And the rest of us will stand alongside them, still asking, still learning, still turning towards Christ too.

May this church always be a place where we can do that together: where we have room to ask questions, the courage to change our minds, and the willingness to support and pray for one another as we become more like Christ.

Image : Georges Rouault, Christ (1925–27)