October 11, 2020
A dear friend just became a grandparent for the third time. The joy she experienced in meeting her precious granddaughter! Holding her in her arms, celebrating with her daughter, being part of the continuation of life. Many of you know the joy of meeting grand babies and great-grand babies. O I hope to have that resonating joy one day.
Precious pictures, newborn sweetness, celebrated announcements, all help to share the good news of this new birth!!!
When something so joyous radiates through our lives, what we want to do most is share the news, share the joy.
Joy is at its fullest when it is shared.
Paul is calling us to rejoice- to be in joy, to live in joy. To rejoice in the Lord always. When life is going well, we can do that. But when the world feels upside down and chaotic, then living in joy feels impossible. Our fear of the Coronavirus, the uncertainty of the election, the racial tensions, and the economic insecurity, make joy more elusive. But this is when we need to be reminded that Paul is writing this letter from prison where he awaits his possible death. He is not speaking about joy that rests on circumstances, no, he speaks of a joy that is grounded in faith. Even when faith and trust are hard. Find joy, even when life throws you a curve ball, when you are shocked by a diagnosis, when we are alone when we want to be with our families, much like Paul longed to be with the Philippian church. Like Paul we love and long for our families and being together in the same space. Prison kept Paul away, Covid keeps us away. Yet even through it all, Paul encourages us to rejoice, to rest in joy.
“Karl Barth once called “joy a continual defiant ‘Nevertheless’.” It’s a reminder that the biblical concept of joy isn’t based on circumstances” (Center for Excellence in Preaching 10.4.20). So with all that is going on, we are asked to find joy in our relationship with Christ, not in the circumstances of our daily lives. That means we hold in tension the realities of the day and the reality of God’s love and grace and find hope, joy even, when we do not feel very joyful.
We face Covid, nevertheless we cultivate joy.
We are stressed about the elections, nevertheless we seek the light of joy.
We watched much of our state burn, nevertheless we grow into joy.
If that feels too hard, let’s think about joy in a new way. Yes, joy can mean to “be happy”, but when we are struggling it can also mean “take heart” or “have courage.” Take heart in the Lord, always, again I say take heart. Truth lies here. We might not sing out rejoicing right now, but we can and should take heart in the Lord, always, again I say, take heart.
Joy is not found outside of ourselves, in the events or possessions of life. Rather joy is found in our faith. The great reformer, Martin Luther preached this, “Rejoice in the Lord”; not rejoice in silver or gold, not in eating or drinking, not in pleasure or mechanical chanting, not in strength or health, not in skill or wisdom, not in power or honor, not in friendship or favor, nay, not in good works or holiness even. For these are deceptive joys, false joys, which never stir the depths of the heart” (4th Sunday of Advent 1521).
I love that phrase, “stir the depths of the heart.” Joy is something that abides deep within us. It is how we have courage when things feel too hard. Joy is never alone. Its companions are pain and fear. So that we find joy even when we are afraid, even when we hurt, then we are stirring the depths of our heart, as Martin Luther proclaimed. But let’s remember that joy works best when it is shared.
Paul commands us to rejoice, in the plural, meaning we rejoice together.
Joy is incomplete unless it is shared.
That is why we stay connected through this COVID time, even when we are not worshiping in our sanctuary. We are sharing the joy of our faith as we worship together each week, as we share our joys and concerns with each other by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving.
In addition to rejoicing, Paul asks the church to show compassion. He says, “stand firm in the Lord,” “help these women,” “let your gentleness be known to everyone” (vs 1, 3, 5). Your faith demands your compassion. Compassion for those grieving the loss of a beloved family member to COVID, compassion for 1 in 5 business owners who have lost their business because of this pandemic. Compassion for the teachers and parents trying to help our children learn safely. Compassion for ourselves, as this drags on into the 7th month.
Remember joy is never alone. Its companions are pain and fear.
So we are called to compassion, to share our gentleness. Rev. Bryan Findlayson writes, “Paul encourages a show of goodwill toward all people. The word “gentleness” means something like: goodwill, fairness, friendliness, forbearance. It is opposite to claiming our rights over another. When Jesus invades our person, encircling us with his love, it is then that the clamor and clatter of the shadows seem muffled, and there is peace” (Sermon, “The Lord is Near”).
We long for peace around politics, we long for peace around our racial tensions, we long for peace around the struggle about wearing masks.
Can we show forth our gentleness when it comes to these disturbing struggles?
Can we listen with new ears to the injustice bore by our brothers and sisters of color?
Can we stand firm in wanting Breonna Taylor’s death to answer to justice?
Can we open our hearts to the possibility that just because we have never experienced racial profiling or been treated poorly because of our skin color that these injustices are still happening?
Our faith calls us to compassion for those enduring such systemic pain.
May we not proclaim our lives matter, or all lives matter, because doing so lessens the reality of black lives matter.
May our gentleness bear goodwill, fairness, friendliness, and forbearance for those enduring racial injustice.
Right along with compassion we are called to justice. Paul calls his beloved church, and us, to whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing and commendable. Poetic words for justice. While our culture almost seems to revel in what’s untrue, unholy, unjust, impure, ugly and vicious, Paul invites Jesus’ followers to a different way. A way the Spirit uses to promote within us joy, gentleness and peace.
Our anthem today speaks of God’s compassion, a compassion that inspires our own compassionate justice and care. Our ability to rejoice, to have a true joy that stirs our heart, comes from the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross and the healing of our sins. Henri Nouwen writes,
“Jesus is God’s wounded healer: through his wounds we are healed. Jesus’ suffering and death brought joy and life.
His humiliation brought glory; his rejection brought a community of love.
As followers of Jesus we can also allow our wounds to bring healing to others”
(The Wounded Healer).
Standing firm in our faith, rejoicing in the Lord, embodying compassionate justice, we are promised the peace of God which surpasses all understanding. God’s peace that will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. We are also promised the Lord is near and God’s peace will be with you. Let us rejoice in the Lord, take heart, have courage in the Lord, and again I say rejoice! Amen.