Philippians
4:4-7
As
I begin this homily, I have two questions I want to ask you. First, when was
the last time you felt joy? We might vary a bit on how we define that word, but
I think all of us have some innate, visceral sense of what joy is. So, when did
you last feel joyful? Second, are you at peace right now? The wonderful Hebrew
word for peace, shalom, means
“complete” and “whole.” Do you feel complete and whole today? Are you at peace?
Paul
writes in our epistle this morning: Rejoice
in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. This is such a great passage
from Philippians, and it emphasizes both joy and peace, two words we hear a lot
this time of year. We’ll see them on Christmas cards, holiday decorations, and
ornaments on the tree. We’ll hear them in readings at church and sing them in
hymns and carols. But many people will not always feel joyful and peaceful, and
many will find that any moments of joy and peace seem fleeting at best. And
clearly just throwing the words around does not suffice: we could sing “Joy to
the World” over and over again or hear how the angels proclaimed “Peace on
earth, goodwill towards all” a hundred times, and still not experience the joy
and peace we are supposed to be experiencing because, well, it’s December. So
if you do not feel fully at peace or if you cannot make yourself be joyful,
then this reading from Philippians is for you. I find that it unlocks the truth
about joy and peace, and opens me up to experience them ever more fully.
Philippians
is an awesome letter, and notable for many reason. Philippi was the home of the
very first church on European soil. It was founded by the apostle Paul and a
woman, Lydia, who was a leader in that community. The Philippians clearly
occupied a special place in Paul’s heart, and he wrote to them with obvious
love: this is by far Paul’s happiest letter. But in the midst of all the
positive energy this epistle radiates, it’s easy to forget that when Paul wrote
it, he was in prison, and his life was in extreme jeopardy. He says in the
first chapter that he is not sure he is going to get out alive. So when he
writes about joy and peace, he is not being glib or superficial. He’s not just
saying, “Don’t worry! Smile and be happy!” He is in touch with something
essential and life-giving, and we need to be in touch with it, too.
Paul
understands that joy and peace are not dependent on circumstances, nor are they
simply feelings that come and go, emotions we either have or don’t have. Joy
and peace do not just happen to us when the stars align and everything is
great. No. They are the direct result of living close to God. The lynchpin of
this passage is “The Lord is near.” It’s when people realize how near God
actually is that everything changes. Circumstances may not get any easier, and
we may still feel real pain and sadness. But joy and peace will be the
foundation that undergirds our existence. In Galatians, Paul says that they are
fruits of the Spirit, they are what happen when we realize that the Spirit of
God lives within us and flows through us. They are the work of God in our
lives, gifts that are continuously given. This is why Paul writes, Rejoice in the Lord; this is why he
talks about the peace of God. Put
simply, joy and peace are not primarily emotional: they are primarily
relational. And they are not feelings we passively have: they are experiences
we actively live . . . when we live close to God.
And
the Gospel conveys the same message. John the Baptist obviously did not
graduate from charm school, and he lacks Paul’s eloquence, but he makes the
same point. God is coming into the world. The Lord is near: live accordingly.
“Repentance” doesn’t mean “feel bad about your sins”: it means “change your
mind.” If the God of love is close, we don’t have to cling to our possessions
out of fear or selfishness: we are free to share what we have with others. If
the Holy One is coming into the world, then we don’t need to abuse power or use
violence to further our own interests: we are free to live differently. John
does not talk about joy and peace, but he doesn’t have to: if we live and act
like the Lord is near, then joy and peace will follow naturally.
God
has come into the world in the person of Jesus Christ. Yes, we look forward to
the final fulfillment of all things, when God’s reign of love will be fully
established. But in the meantime, the Spirit of Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit
of God, is coming into the world every single moment. The Lord is near. If we
want truly to observe Advent, then we will live each day like the Lord is near.
We don’t want to be people who eat and drink Jesus on Sunday, and then live the
rest of the week as if Christ were somewhere beyond the planet Jupiter. So
rather than trying to conjure up seasonal feelings, think about where you are
living as if Christ were not close. How would your life change if you started
living as though Christ were very close — at work, or as you deal with illness,
or as you grieve the loss of someone you love, or wherever you are currently
living as though God were absent? That is the invitation given today and every
day of our lives.
And
we can be sure: the Lord is near, no matter what. Etty Hillesum was a Dutch
woman who, along with her whole family, was murdered at Auschwitz. She kept a
diary, and even as she observed the horrors around her and anticipated her own
death, she lived with a strong sense of God’s near presence. Not long before
they killed her, she wrote: “Truly my life is one long hearkening unto myself and
unto others, unto God. And if I say I hearken, it is really God who hearkens
inside me. The most essential and the deepest in me hearkening unto the most
essential and the deepest in the other. God to God.” The nearness of God
allowed her to endure even the worst atrocities. She wrote, “The realms of the
soul and the spirit are so spacious and unending that this little bit of
physical discomfort and suffering doesn’t really matter all that much. I do not
feel I have been robbed of my freedom; essentially no one can do me any harm at
all.” That kind of peace is unshakeable; that kind of joy goes deeper than any
suffering. Etty Hillesum experienced it in a Nazi concentration camp. Paul
experienced it in prison. We can experience it in any and all circumstances,
because it’s true: the Lord is near. Live it . . . and rejoice . . . and be at
peace.
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