Rejoice in the Lord Always

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.”

What does Paul have to rejoice about? It is 61 or 62. Paul is under house arrest in Rome. After tangling with mobs in Jerusalem, Paul had been arrested and imprisoned for two years at the fortress in Caesarea Maritima in Palestine. When he, as a Roman citizen, had asserted his right to appeal his case in Rome he was transported there under guard to await trial on capital charges. Confined to Rome, Paul is now unable to return to the Christian community at Philippi, a community he had helped to found several years earlier with the help of Lydia, a dyer of purple goods, and other prominent women. He is grateful that the community has not forgotten him, but, rather, has sent him gifts through Epaphroditus, one of its members.

After hearing the news Epaphroditus brought him, Paul’s heart is breaking for the Philippian Christians. They are at odds with their neighbors. Philippi was a Roman city in Macedonia, located on the Via Egnatia, the principle road from Asia Minor to Rome. Most of its citizens were Gentiles, descendants of Roman soldiers who had received land in Macedonia in return for service during Rome’s civil wars. Those who had become Christians were scorned by their neighbors. As Christians, they could no longer participate in the imperial cult, the worship of former Emperors, even though non-Christians considered such worship to be vital to the well-being of the city. Nor could they worship any of the many Greek gods whose temples lined the busy thoroughfares. More than that, the Philippians themselves are dispirited. The first flush of conversion, that delightful sense of finally having been found by God, seems to have worn off among them, and they now face the hard work of maintaining their commitment to Christ. Most heart-breaking of all, there is internal conflict in the Philippian community. Paul’s letter to them mentions Euodia and Syntyche by name, but there are probably others.

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.”

What do we have to rejoice about? On a personal level, none of you is in jail, as far as I know, or in danger of being incarcerated. However, like everyone else, you’re caught up in your daily lives, working, volunteering, raising children, renovating houses, going to school. You’ve experienced sickness and loss. If you’re of a certain age, you long to re-establish relationships with those who are distant or from whom you are estranged, you’ve watched your friends depart, and you’re coping with a body that many days seems to thwart your every intention. If you’re younger, you’re watching the aging process play itself out in your parents, grandparents, in-laws, aunts, uncles, and friends.

In this once-vital Episcopal outpost on the Ohio River, we ponder how, with such small numbers, we can continue to grow spiritually. We wonder what God really has in mind for us. We question how we long we can flourish in this community. In southeast Ohio, three hours from Cincinnati, we often feel cut off from the rest of the diocese. With the rest of the Episcopal Church, and other mainline denominations, we struggle to respond to the needs of a changing society. And in the world? Is there any cause for rejoicing in the world around us? The dread Ebola virus is ravaging West Africa. In our own country Enterovirus 68 has affected children, while 20,000 people die yearly from the flu. Our Loaves and Fishes diners remind us that we have not eradicated poverty, and that income inequality is again rising. The daily headlines remind us that people still die needlessly in car wrecks and on city streets. Islamic terrorism infects the Middle East, Russia menaces the Ukraine, and China seeks to control political life in Hong Kong.

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.”

What is there to rejoice about? Much, Paul tells the Philippian Christians. First and foremost, he counsels them, they are to rejoice in the good news of God’s work in Christ. They are to rejoice because, even though they are now a community apart from their neighbors, they have been brought together as Christ’s own, and they have been joined to Christ. They are to rejoice, because God now calls them to continue nourishing a community whose life witnesses to Christ’s redemptive work. As they express their gladness, they are to remember that the good news of what God has done in Christ is for all: all our welcomed into Christ’s Body, and all are counted as God’s beloved children.

As members of Christ’s Body, they must also rejoice that God has given them examples of godly life to follow. The primary example is Christ himself. In a hymn that may have come from somewhere else, Paul reminds his Philippian friends that, Christ, though “in form of God …, humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross.” Paul also reminds them of Timothy, and of Epaphoditus, their own fellow Christian, who came to visit him. And, finally, Paul reminds them to follow his own example. He, who had all the markers of social status possible in the ancient world, gladly gave them all up in order to “gain Christ and be found in him.”

As they persevere in the Christian life, the Philippians must also remember that “the Lord is near,” that God is with them always in all that they do. They are to remember with joy God’s care for them always, not just on special feast days, not just on Sundays, but always. Their gratitude and joy in knowing Christ must permeate their entire life and must be the foundation of all that they do.

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.”

What is there to rejoice about? Much, Paul tells us. First and foremost, we are to rejoice that God has brought us together. In truth, we are a motley crew, not unlike the Philippian congregation. We range in age from one to ninety-three (Hallelujah!). Some of us were born in Gallipolis, some of us were born back east or out west, some of us were born in another country. Some of us are quite well off, and others of us struggle to make ends meet. Some of us are students, some are teachers, some work at other professions, some are homemakers, and some are retired. Some of us were born into the Episcopal Church, and others of us were adults when we heard God calling us to this tradition. All of us are welcomed and valued. God has brought all of us here to give thanks for Christ’s work in us and for us, and to be sent out into the world to be Christ for the world.

We too may rejoice that we have examples of faith. We too have Christ himself. In our own prayers, in our daily devotions and in our corporate worship, we too can continually ponder what it means to humble ourselves and become obedient to the point of death. We too can rejoice in the all the examples we have of faithful commitment to Christ. Look around you! Don’t you see the saints among us? Or look at the calendar of the holy ones of the church. On nearly every day, we see examples of those who faithfully followed Christ wherever he led them. Do the names of Samuel Isaac Joseph Schereschewsky, Teresa of Avila, Hugh Latimer, Nicholas Ridley, or Ignatius of Antioch mean anything to you? They are just the people on our calendar for this coming week. I can assure you that all of them have fascinating and exemplary stories.

Rejoice that God is at work in the world, using us as God’s instruments to bring God’s realm closer. Rejoice that God is working through Episcopal Relief and Development to empower women. Today is actually the Day of the Girl. Through the Church’s Auxiliary for Social Action, ERD has started a new agricultural program in India. The program has brought women and girls together in unforeseen ways, allowing the mostly lower-caste women to support each other, grow food for their families, and learn new skills. Rejoice too that God is even working through those outside the Christian fold. Give thanks to God that people like Malala Yousafzai, a seventeen year-old Muslim, and Kailash Sathyarthi, a Hindu, are at work protecting children and their right to education. Both just won the Nobel Peace prize.

And finally, hear the command in Paul’s voice: “Rejoice!” Commit yourself to thanking God and rejoicing in the good news of God in Christ intentionally and regularly. Find a time for daily prayer. Come and be nourished in worship. Then take your joy out into the streets and share it with others. Or follow the poet Mary Oliver and sing. In a lovely poem, entitled “I Worried,” she says,

I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers
flow in the right direction, will the earth turn
as it was taught, and if not how shall
I correct it?
Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,
can I do better?
Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows
can do it and I am, well,
hopeless.
Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,
am I going to get rheumatism,
lockjaw, dementia?
Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing.
And gave it up. And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang.1

My sisters and brothers, rejoice, give thanks, and sing!

1. Mary Oliver, from Swan: Poems and Prose Poems. © Beacon Press, 2010.