When I was a kid, I read comic books. If I remember correctly, it all started when one of my parents’ friends took pity on me when I was bedridden with the flu. The kind soul brought over a stack of comics to help me pass the time. Not knowing what I might like, she gave me a whole assortment of superhero mags.

I quickly developed my preferences. I favored Marvel by far over DC, and within the Marvel universe, Captain America and Spider Man were my favorites. They were the ones I continued to buy with my allowance when I had the chance. And decades later, to my delight, the newly formed Marvel Studios began cranking out one epic superhero movie after another.

Joseph Campbell would probably say that the typical superhero story follows the plot line of the so-called “Hero’s Journey.” Heroes and heroines are unexpectedly called to adventures that take them to strange and dangerous places. They are met by increasingly difficult challenges, until a final climactic showdown when the fate of the world itself may be at stake.

In the best of these stories, it’s not only the hero’s power or skill that gets tested, but their character. When faced with a dilemma, will they make the right decision? Are they willing to lose everything to save others? Will they make the ultimate sacrifice, as Steve Rogers does at the end of the first Captain America movie?

No, I am not suggesting that Captain America is somehow a Jesus figure. Spider Man is not God in the flesh, but an awkward teenager. But both are faced with the question of what they will do with the power they’ve been given. And when we read or see their stories, we are moved by their heroism and self-sacrifice. We rightly admire these qualities even if we question other decisions they’ve made.

And the apostle Paul, I think, would be fine with that.

Paul, as we’ve seen, redirects the Philippians’ attention away from the things that might cause them anxiety, and toward the things that might help them find peace. It’s natural for us, in the midst of struggle and difficulty, to zero in on whatever feels threatening. But focusing on what’s wrong can blind us to what’s right. It takes a conscious act of will (aided by the command of a saintly friend like Paul!) to notice the ways in which the world is not coming apart at the seams, to pause and be grateful for things that we can still admire. Here again are Paul’s words:

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. (Phil 4:8, NRSVUE)

True. Honorable. Just. Pure. Pleasing. Commendable. This is not meant to be an exhaustive list. They are all examples of what Paul calls “excellence,” or things that are “worthy of praise.” The word translated as “excellence” had its own special meaning in the ancient world; it was central to the Greek philosopher Aristotle’s theory of virtue.

As opposed to systems of ethics based on discerning and following rules and principles, Aristotle taught that a life lived well was one aimed in a disciplined way at some vision of excellence. The excellence of a kitchen knife, for example, is in its sharpness; we may actually feel a rush of appreciation when we’re able to slice cleanly and effortlessly through a thick-skinned tomato.

But what is the “excellence” of a human life? Ask a dozen people, get a dozen answers (assuming they don’t just stare at you as if you descended from outer space). That doesn’t mean, however, that there’s no agreement. We may not all define virtue in the same way, but we know it when we see it. We get caught up in the hero’s sacrifice for others, and admire it.

Paul’s list of six “whatevers” is instructive when taken as a whole. Three of the words are probably meant to have a specifically spiritual meaning. “True,” for Paul, is inseparable from the gospel itself. “Just” can mean “morally right” in a general sense, but probably has the more specific sense of “righteous” in God’s sight. “Pure” conveys a sense of ritual purity, as in an unspoiled, unblemished sacrifice.

But the other three words, like “excellence,” speak of a more general sense of rightness that the believers in Philippi would have shared with their unbelieving neighbors. “Honorable” things or qualities are widely respected. People are drawn to those that are “pleasing”; literally, people are “friendly toward” them. And what is “commendable” has a good reputation among all.

Paul, in other words, is saying something like, I know you’re anxious. I know things sometimes look grim. But look around you. If you pay attention, you can notice things worth appreciating. Even before you became Christians, you already had a sense of what was honorable and right. Where do you still see people doing the right thing? Be grateful. Let these things help you renew your hope. But always remember that the standard of what counts as good and right is the gospel of Jesus Christ. His is the ultimate example of a righteous life.

Jesus, however, isn’t the only example for the Philippians to follow; Paul himself is. He’s already told them to imitate him, and he will remind them of this once again, as we will see.