Downward Mobility

(Homily Yr A Proper 26, Sept 27 2026, Trinity

Readings: Exodus 17.1.-7; Psalm 78.1-4,12-16; Philippians 2.1-13; Matthew 21.23-32)

“Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,” writes Paul in his letter to the Philippians. Or in other words,

Embrace downward mobility.

If ever there was a teaching that went against the common wisdom of our time, this just might it.

At first, it sounds like Paul is giving his Philippian readers some gentle encouragement, urging them to be nice to one another. We hear him call for unity rather than division, for humility rather than selfishness, for looking to the interests of others rather than one’s own.

 But then he takes things to a completely different level.

“Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus:

who though he existed in the form of God,

did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped,

but emptied himself. . .

What would it mean to empty yourself? Of power, of status, of wealth, of security? What would that look like?

Paul goes on.

“Jesus emptied himself,

taking the form of a slave,

assuming human likeness.

And being found in appearance as a human,

he humbled himself.”

He humbled himself. Paul doesn’t just mean that Jesus wasn’t arrogant. It’s not just that he acted with humility. What Paul is saying is that he embraced lowliness, powerlessness, humiliation, the loss of social position and status.

“He humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death –

even death on a cross.”

That was Jesus’ trajectory. The humiliation and pain of death on a cross.

And Paul encourages his readers to “Let the same mind be in you that is in Christ Jesus”

Embrace downward mobility.

If I’m honest, I would have to say that I’ve mostly done the opposite. For most of my life, I’ve embraced upward mobility. Getting an education, moving up a career ladder. Accumulating material possessions and security. Building a resume. Trying to achieve a measure of power in my life and my relationships. Working to develop a certain social status, doing what I can to be well regarded.

But Paul is urging me to have the same orientation, the same way of looking at life that Jesus has, and then he reminds me that Jesus’ life trajectory was one of downward mobility, of giving up power and status, of dying alone and destitute on a cross.

What downward mobility, what change in the way we live, is God calling us to?

In today’s gospel reading, Jesus is confronted by the chief priests and elders of the Temple, the most powerful people in Jewish society, in the very place where they exercise their power and authority. These rulers are not just upwardly mobile; they’ve made it to the top.

The previous day, the day we call Palm Sunday, Jesus had entered Jerusalem in a triumphant procession, hailed as Messiah by those who cheered him on. He entered the Temple, the centre of Jewish life, and his very first act was to throw out the sellers and money-changers - the very same vendors whom the Chief Priests had authorized to be there.

So when Jesus dares to return to the Temple the next day and starts to teach the crowds who are drawn to him, the chief priests confront him: “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?”

The chief priests are all about authority, power and status. Authority in the Temple is theirs, and they have zero intention of sharing it with a pretender from Galilee. When they ask Jesus by what authority he does things, they’re not just curious. They dare him to say that his authority comes from God, in which case they can accuse him of blasphemy and have him arrested and taken away. Which is exactly what they will do three days later, on the day we call Maundy Thursday.

But on this day, Jesus sidesteps their trap. He asks them in return a question about John the Baptist, whom the people regard as a prophet, whom Jesus himself had declared to be a prophet.

“Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?”

The chief priests quickly realize that whichever way they answer the question, their authority will be undermined. So they refuse to answer.

But Jesus is doing more than being clever here. By pointing to the baptism of John, he’s bringing up the key issue that’s at stake, the greatest challenge for those in authority, and that is repentance. To repent is to change your mind, and to change your life.

Do you remember what John cried out when he baptized people? John’s message was “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” The same words that Jesus repeated at the outset of his public ministry. Not “be good.” Not “do good”. But “repent”.

Both John and Jesus recognize that we will get things wrong sometimes. That’s part of being human. We make mistakes, we screw up. But the key issue at stake is this: when we see that we’ve gone wrong, will we change our minds and do what is right? Even if that means humbling ourselves, admitting we were wrong, and changing our ways?

When Jesus asks a question about John the Baptist, he’s really setting the stage for the brief little parable he tells the Chief Priests. It’s a parable about repentance.

“What do you think? A man had two sons; he went to the first and said ‘Son go and work in the vineyard today.” He answered, ‘I will not,’ but later he changed his mind and went. The father went to the second and said the same, and he answered, ‘I go, sir,’ but he did not go. Which of the two did the will of his father?”

Sometimes Jesus’ parables are confusing. But not this one. Clearly it is the first son who does the will of his father. The chief priests answer correctly.

And why is it the first son? Because he changed his mind and went. What matters is not his initial reaction, not getting it right from the start. What matters is his willingness to be open to changing his mind. That’s what matters for us too, our willingness to change our minds and our lives. Or in another word, to repent.

We will get things wrong. But when we see it, will we change our minds and do what is right? Even if that means humbling ourselves. Even if that means giving up some of our power and authority?

Because that’s what the Chief Priests in this gospel are unable to do. They know, or they should know, that they were wrong about John. They see, or they should see, that John was a prophet. But to admit that John was a prophet is to listen to him, to accept his authority and give up some of their own. To admit to the crowds that they were wrong. To endanger their own status. To lose power. To embrace downward mobility.

And to acknowledge Jesus, this man in front of them who is openly challenging their authority and calling them out, to acknowledge him as a rabbi, as a prophet, or maybe even as the Messiah? They just couldn’t do it.  Their very sense of self was too tied up in their position, status, power and influence to allow themselves to repent.

How about you?

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,

who though he existed in the form of God,

did not regard equality with God

as something to be grasped

but emptied himself.

As followers of Jesus, we don’t have to get everything right, but we are called to repent, to be willing and open to changing our minds and our lives. Following Jesus means signing up for a bumpy, transformative ride which may require some downward mobility along the way.

We know what the chief priests were being called to, even though they refused the call.

What change of mind, what downward mobility, might God be calling us to today?

Amen.

Image by dwi endah kusumawati