“Joy Waits for Us"
“Joy Waits for Us"
Philippians 4:4-9
Broadway Christian Church
Our word this Third Sunday of Advent is Joy. The angels brought to the shepherds "good news of great joy which will be for all the people" (Luke 2:10). Our carolers who are going out this afternoon may sing Joy to the world, the Lord is come. Rita lit the joy candle on the Advent wreath. Paul writes, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say rejoice” (Phil 4:4).
But let’s pause and acknowledge something. With all due respect to Paul, admonitions to “rejoice” are hard for some to hear. The truth of the matter is for many of us the holidays are a struggle. One pastor wrote, “I know many people who are praying for the holiday season to be over.” Counselors know Christmas time is peak season for depression. Grief is reawakened. Loneliness is acutely felt. For some of us, hearing “‘Tis the season to be jolly” makes us feel guilty for not feeling jolly. All the joyous strains of the holiday season can put a strain on some of us. So thank you Terry for providing the Blue Christmas Harp & Healing Service with Maria Trevor that blessed us with a time and space to come together before our God without façade or slapped on smiley-faces. That hour felt holy to me.
Having said that, what do you make of this? Paul writes, “Rejoice in the Lord always.” Mind you, he’s in a Roman jail cell. How can he be rejoicing? He lifts his head and hands and rejoices when he ought to be burying his head in his hands and sighing. How can that be? What that says to me is that joy – biblical joy – is apparently not dependent upon external circumstances, but upon an awareness of God’s presence in all circumstances. In Barbara Brown Taylor’s words, "The only condition for joy is the presence of God. Joy happens when God is present and people know it.[1]" That Paul could be joyful in the midst of dire circumstances can only mean that joy in here (point toward the heart) is not dependent upon what's going on out there (pointing to our surroundings) but is instead born of the blessed assurance that God is enthroned up there and is at work through the power of the risen Christ down here to bring God’s purposes to fruition everywhere. So it is Paul writes from jail, “Rejoice in the Lord always, again I will say: Rejoice … The Lord is near.”
The fact that joy transcends circumstances is a blessed truth I'm reminded of whenever I hear the spirituals sung. Michael Curry, Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, a black man whose faith was forged by the spirituals, wondered, "Why didn't slaves go crazy? They had no doctors, no therapists or social workers. Families were separated and sold." He says, "I believe it was their singing. Spirituals took away their shame, wiped away their tears and made them part of God's own family.[2]" Nobody and nothing was going to steal their joy! Paul rejoicing in prison and slaves singing in the fields beneath their taskmasters' noses bear witness to a truth fundamental to faith: joy transcends circumstances. If God is near, joy will find a way.
Paul continues his ode to joy by testifying, "I've learned in whatever state I am to be content. I've learned how to be abased and how to abound; in any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and want. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me" (Philippians 4:11-13). I learned the etymology – the origin – of the word content. It’s from a Medieval Latin word that means “held together.”[3] When Paul says, “I’ve learned in whatever state I am to be content” he is saying, “No matter what, I trust my life will be held together by God through the Lord Jesus Christ who in this Advent season “is near.”
Speaking of being held together and the deep-down joy that proceeds from that realization, have you ever noticed the word religion has in its center the letters l-i-g – lig as in the word ligament. What does a ligament do? Connects bone to bone. Holds the body together. “The toe bone’s connected to the foot bone/ The foot bone’s connected to the ankle bone/ The ankle bone’s connected to the shin bone.” (Somebody’s saying, David’s not connected to his brain bone!) Ligaments hold our bodies together and religion at its best holds everything together: ligs us to each other, to God, and to all creation. Religion at its best isn’t a five-inch thick dictionary of dogma—things you gotta believe – or a rulebook of things you’d better do or not do … or else. Religion as in ligi and ligament is a way of living life that strives always to hold relationships, societies, and creation together. Give me some of that ‘ol time religion Paul had, born of his conviction that the Lord is near, holding him together, filling him with a “peace that passes understanding.” How can he keep from singing? “Rejoice in the Lord always.”
Be forewarned, though. We live in a world that can suck us dry of joy. There are joy busters out there.
Cynicism is one. Joy is the child of hope, the ability to envision possibilities even amidst adverse circumstances. Cynicism, on the other hand, has the propensity to project clouds around any silver lining. Cynicism corrodes joy.
So does criticism. Joy derives from gratitude. As Jean Ingelow put it, "Joy is the grace we say to God." Criticism is the griping we say about everything.
Excessive seriousness chokes out joy. Mark Twain wrote about "Good people in the worst sense of the word." What one of my friends calls "Shushers," those self-appointed guardians of dull decorum who spend their lives quenching the spirits of others by cutting their eyes just so, quelling all outbreaks of joyfulness with their sad, solemn seriousness. Think of sour-faced religion caricatured by Dana Carvey's “Church Lady” on Saturday Night Live. Isn’t that special? No, it’s not. It’s a killjoy.
Beware of the joy busters of cynicism, criticism and excessive seriousness. Jesus came to bring us joy. He said of his teachings in John’s Gospel, “I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete” (John 15:11).
Speaking of joy busters, what kind of diet do you feed your eyes, ears, and mind? What we watch, listen to and think about can lift us up or bring us crashing down. Which is why Paul writes, “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). My mother, God rest her soul, verged on losing heart the last years of her life. “David,” she’d call me long distance, “What’s this world coming to?” “I’m worried about this or that.” “It makes me sick to my stomach to see (fill in the blank)” When I went to see her, I understood why she was down. She had cable news blaring from her TV from dawn until dusk, an IV of ugliness drip, drip, dripping into her bloodstream via her ear canals and eye sockets. After an hour of that yammering, I was depressed. Focus your attention on unrighteousness, unseemliness and untruthfulness and your heart and hopes will atrophy and your joy will leak out into a puddle in front of the sofa. But if you seek out the good, the right, the beautiful and the true and “think on those things,” you will not lose heart or joy. That’s not David speaking, those are Paul’s words in Christ who strengthens him.
Speaking of being strengthened and made joyful despite the circumstances, 35 years ago this Advent I was pastor of a church in St. Louis. Don was a member of my church. He was a retired pastor. A dear friend and mentor. A lifelong bachelor. A gay man back when you didn’t say anything. He dared not. People can be so mean. Christians can be so cruel. Don was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in the late summer of ’88 and come Advent he was rail thin. Jaundiced. Dying.
Our worship committee chose folks to light the Advent Wreath. When they handed me the list, I looked at it and said, “What! You asked Don to light the candle on the Advent Wreath on the Third Sunday of Advent? That’s the joy candle. Don’s dying. What were you thinking?”
They said, “He said he’d do it.”
I said, “I’ll go by and talk to him.”
There was nothing to nothing to talk about.
“David,” he said, “I know it’s the joy candle. That’s the one I want to light.”
I’ll never forget Don coming down the center aisle as we sang the opening hymn, bearing the candle lighter as he processed. As he reached the front of the sanctuary, his back to the congregation but his face toward where I stood on the chancel, the flame from the candle lighter bathed his jaundiced face in a soft glow. What I remember was the look on his face – a peace that passes understanding and a deep, fierce, defiant joy.
I did his funeral fifty days later on February 11. At Don’s request, the service began with “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring” and ended with our standing and singing “Joy to the World the Lord is Come.”
In his prison cell in Rome, Paul lights the third Advent candle and writes a Christmas card by its soft glow. He stuffs it in an envelope, licks a stamp, affixes it, hands it to the guard and asks, “Would you mail this for me?” It arrived in Broadway’s mailbox this week. Ingrid passed it on to our elder Bob Eichenberger and Bob read it. It’s addressed to you. It says, “I've learned in whatever state I am to be content.” My life, my church, this world is being held together. “In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. The Lord is near. Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I say, rejoice.”
Signed – Your Brother in Christ, Paul. And Don, from his place in the midst of the Heavenly Host, raised up, made whole, finally and eternally accepted for who he is, sings, Joy to the World.
Let all God’s people say AMEN.
[1] Quoted in “Surprised by Joy,” Barbara Brown Taylor
[2] Quoted in “With Shouts of Joy,” Marjory Zoet Bankson
[3] Medieval Latin contentare, both from Latin contentus "contained; satisfied," past participle of continere "to hold together, enclose https://www.etymonline.com/word/content
