Philippians 4:1-9
Third Sunday of Advent
As a kind of creative writing project, I’ve been writing out little short stories of my life story. It’s mostly for fun, but it’s kind of therapeutic too. At one point, I decided I wanted to write about the story that lead to my story: the story about how my parents met and fell in love. They’ve talked a little about it over the years, but I realized I didn’t know much about it. So a couple of weeks ago I asked them to write that story out for me, separately, so I would have their two perspectives to work with as I wrote out their story.
Pretty clever idea, right? I am, individually, the offspring of these two people; so I would help create a story that is based on what these two people contribute. Only, their stories are nothing alike! They met at school so there is a touchpoint about them noticing each other at a basketball game; but that’s about it. Granted, that was fifty-something years ago, but certainly someone has asked them this question before, right? I would expect, since people have asked Sherry and me how we met multiple times over the past twenty-three years, that we’d be telling the same story by know; but now I’m not so sure.
I think I know my wife well enough to know that she would be annoyed if I gave her homework like that, but it’s an interesting question. Do we, even with the people who presumably know us the best, tell the same-shared stories? Maybe not. Maybe it’s not just my parents. Maybe our life together is harder than it looks; more complicated that we even expect. Maybe it’s a miracle, a literal miracle, that we can live together in the first place. Maybe it is, by the literal grace of God, that we are held together in relationships, in families, in churches, and communities. Maybe it also takes a lot of work and a mindset that remembers why we do all that work.
So traditionally—and I’m not certain where the tradition came from—but traditionally, the candle for the third Sunday of Advent is pink and not purple. You can see that tradition played out in our banner for today. And yes, the candle we lit today was, in fact purple and not pink. And if you were here with us last Sunday, you’ll recall I’m having enough problems with candles; we’re lucky to have candles at all.
The reason it’s supposed to be pink, from what I’ve been told, is that the Third Sunday is supposed to be “lighter” than the rest. I’m not saying I understand the reasoning there, I’m just saying that’s what I’ve been told.
Advent is a time of preparation for the coming of Jesus into the world: we prepare to celebrate his coming in the first place, a baby born in humility; and we prepare for his promised coming again, this time in glory. It’s a time of reflection, of renewed spiritual practices, and repentance; but it doesn’t seem—to me at least—to be a terribly heavy season. Our other season of preparation is Lent; that one is understandably heavier. Preparing for Jesus to go to the Cross is a lot weightier to me than preparing for him to come into this world, either the first time or the next.
All this to say: I don’t really get why we might need to “lighten up,” so to speak. We were already having fun, right? I think this has been a particularly fun Advent. We’ve decorated the place like we usually do. We’ve had Christmas parties. I let you sing Christmas songs even before it’s Christmas (believe it or not, there are pastors out there who wait until after Christmas to sing Christmas songs; I have no idea how they keep from being tarred and feathered).
But probably my favorite part of this Advent so far: I’ve gotten to know many of you better through our practice of intentionally getting to know each other. God showed us how to do it, so following God’s example of coming into our world and building relationship with us, we build relationships with each other. And I am loving every minute of it. This is decidedly not a gloomy season for me; nor do I think it ever should be. This is a season of joy that celebrates a joy that is never out of season.
Our Scripture reading, in a way, reflects that joy, doesn’t it? Rejoice in the Lord, always! That bears repeating: rejoice! Paul reminds us today that it’s okay to be happy. We forget that as Christians sometimes. When I hear pastors saying things like, “God wants you to be happy,” I get very suspicious; I get suspicious because they’re usually selling something; but it is true. God does want you to be happy; and not just happy, joy-filled.
There’s a difference, you know. Happiness is determined by circumstance. For example, there does seem to be a reason for the Philippians not to be happy. It seems, from what Paul says here, that there is a fight going on: Euodia and Syntyche (or however those names are pronounced) are not in agreement. Why else would Paul urge them to be of the same mind in the Lord unless they weren’t? These are coworkers with Paul in the Kingdom of God; these are fellow strugglers in the mission to proclaim Christ; these are siblings of faith in the Philippians’ own faith community. Do you think that might have drained some of the happiness out of the room? Of course it did; but you can’t kill joy because circumstances are not where joy comes from; joy only always comes from God. That’s why Paul says that in “everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.” And guess what: “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” What a wonderful promise!
I have recently discovered that I don’t have to be sad if I don’t want to be. I mean recently. People, I am fifty-one years old; this information would have been super handy decades ago. Why didn’t anyone tell me this? Just kidding, I wouldn’t have listened.
I’ve recently started into a practice—and it’s related to the deepening relationship practice that I’ve invited you into. I’ve started doing this thing where I list in my mind a group of people who I know love me. People who will answer my call when I need them to. People who, when I say pray for me, will pray for me; and not just say it, they will be on their knees. People who will call on me when their time comes too; and it’s not just an unspoken understanding, it is a covenant we’ve made. Lately, if I start to feel down about something, I will imagine them gathered around me and their love for me pouring out on me like water. I think of it as a kind of prayer. What I’m doing is just remembering the love God has for me and the people God has put in my life to show it. What I receive from that exercise is not happiness. Whatever it was that made me sad didn’t just go away. What I receive is joy; joy in the knowledge that we have the love and peace from God even when things aren’t happy.
It’s there in the end of how Paul concludes our reading today. He says, “Finally, beloved, 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. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.”
It almost sounds trite until you think about every that’s going on in Paul’s life as he writes this. Paul was writing this from prison for the Gospel he proclaimed. Paul was living in a world that was very different from ours. Don’t start with me about a war on Christmas; it’s demeaning to the followers of Jesus who face real persecution. We need to be in prayer for our siblings in Christ in some other parts of the world, but you’re doing fine. No one is imprisoning you for celebrating the birth of Jesus. You’re doing fine. Paul was in prison. The church in Philippi was being literally persecuted. Apparently, there were people in their church that were fighting with each other. There were probably any number of unfortunate events playing out like they always do: I’m sure their church roof needed work too; I’m sure they froze pipes too; I’m sure they had problems with their QuickBooks too. What Paul calls them to, what Paul reminds us to do, is not to pretend those awful things don’t exist; but to focus on the reality beyond those things.
Paul calls us to first place our eyes on what is true, honorable, just, pure, pleasing, and commendable; things that are excellent and worthy of praise. Think about these things because that is where God shows us joy. In other words, start with joy; remember the joy that comes from God alone, a joy that cannot be quenched by the problems that surround us; a joy that we can then take with us as we seek to serve our Savior throughout our lives.
As we seek to grow together in our relationship with our Risen Savior, let us remember that abiding joy—a joy born into this world to save us from ourselves. A joy that comes from God alone.
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