didn't notice when the wind picked up

wasn't looking when the clouds rolled in

A sermon from Philippians:

• “Rejoice in the Lord always.” 
• Do not worry about anything.
• “Let your gentleness be known to everyone.”
• “…The peace of God which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds.”

…Sounds good, doesn’t it? We’d all love to have what Paul is talking about. 

Especially in days like these. These days, when just a little of the peace Paul speaks of, would be more than welcome. Peace is all too scarce these days. It doesn’t come easily. Not with everything we have to get done before Christmas. Not with everything that’s been in the headlines lately. 

There’s no question. What Paul talks about, sounds good. The only real question is, “how can we get some of that?”

Here we are. Trying our level best. We try to keep up our spirits, but the bad news won’t stop coming. We do everything we can; and still, the peace just won’t come…

And of course, you can’t shake that feeling. Perhaps it’s exactly our persistent efforts, that are part and parcel to our unrest. 

And of course, you shouldn’t miss that fact, either. That’s the punchline to this entire letter…

When Paul says, ‘rejoice.’ When he commends our gentleness. When he speaks of that peace that passes all understanding; he isn’t just asking us to “chin-up, cheer-up.” Paul isn’t asking us act peaceful. He isn’t offering some cliche like, fake it until you make it, either. 

No. When Paul speaks of joy, gentleness and peace we’d all love; he’s making a command. 

A Command. 

‘Rejoice in the Lord.’ And if he isn’t clear, he’ll say it again. ‘Rejoice.’
It’s a command. Do it. Get on with it. Rejoice.

It’s an odd command to make; all in all.
After all, most commands are more dour, aren’t they? “Stop that.” “Do this.” Those are the kind of commands we’re familiar with. 

But Paul, Paul commands something like rejoicing. Paul tells you to be gentle. Paul commits you to be peaceful.

Those aren’t the kinds of orders we’re used to getting… 

Paul commands joy, gentleness and peace. ’Rejoice,’ Paul says. 

It’s a bold command to make. That; or lunacy…

Especially when you consider the circumstances… 

Let’s not forget, Paul is writing this letter from prison. And he’s writing to folks who are feeling worn out. Members who are considering taking a break.

Paul is commanding folks who aren’t feeling especially cheery, to rejoice. Rejoice always, even!

Stuck in his cell, kept there by the imperial guard; Paul dares to say the peace of God will guard the folks at First Lutheran in Philippi!

Exactly when there isn’t any peace; Paul commands it.

Precisely when you’d be most tempted to lash out, Paul commends gentility. 

Right when there doesn’t seem to be any reason to, Paul orders rejoicing. 

We’d love to find out how we can get even a little of this peace Paul is talking about; and he just commands it!

• If only it were that easy, we think to ourselves…

Why, a little of this peace Paul is talking about, sounds awfully good. 

We’ve done everything we can imagine. We’ve bought the books. We’ve tried the positive-thinking. We’ve avoided the negativity.

And yet. Yet, that peace Paul speaks of; still eludes us. We can’t find it. 

And, of course, all our efforts aren’t making things any more peaceful, are they? They’re doing the opposite.

And, of course, that’s the punchline to this entire letter of Paul’s…

The secret to this joy, this gentleness, this peace Paul speaks of; isn’t some seven-steps to a more thankful life. It isn’t some diet of cutting out negativity. It’s a promise. A promise.

In fact, it’s just that; a fact.

Paul’s no dummy. 

He knows you can’t just order peace. 

If that were the case, all that stuff we’ve bought, the stuff we regretted buying before we even got home; would have actually given us the joy the commercials promised…

After this little section, Paul goes on. He says, “I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need.”

Paul dares to command something like rejoicing, because Paul is just telling the folks in Philippi the way it is, who they are and what happened to them in Christ.

Paul is talking about a peace that isn’t of our own devising. Paul is talking about the peace that comes from Christ.

That’s why there is no more room for commands like “stop that,” or “do this.” Now, in CHrist, there is only rejoicing. So, Paul commands it!

Paul has learned for himself; in Christ, his reality has fundamentally changed. He’s no longer the same old person.

In Christ, Paul doesn’t have to figure out how to conjure up a joyful spirit. 

He doesn’t have to count to ten to keep his temper in check anymore, either.

Paul literally belongs to Jesus. What Jesus has, belongs to Paul. Paul doesn’t have to work for peace. Now Paul lives in Jesus. Jesus’ peace, gentleness and joy it’s already Paul’s!

The peace Paul has. The peace we all long for. It’s the very peace of the Lord. The joy, that’s Jesus’, too. And the same goes for that gentleness!

Paul doesn’t live by his own steam anymore. Paul’s life is hidden in Jesus’. Jesus has given Paul not just salvation, but his very spirit. His life, death and resurrection. 

That’s why Paul can dare to command something like joy, like gentleness, like peace. What happened to Paul in Jesus, has happened to the Philippians, too! So rejoice, darn it!

And, sisters and brothers, it’s happened to you. In your baptism. Right now even. As you hear the Word, you live by Christ.

That’s just the way things are! Rejoice!

‘Rejoice,’ Paul commands. And if he wasn’t clear, he’ll say it again. ‘Rejoice!” The folks in Philippi might just as well get on board; and you too. Jesus gives you his peace. His gentleness. His very victory over death.

In Advent. We wait. And waiting is hard. Not because we’re impatient. Although we are. Waiting is hard, because we worry there isn’t anything worth waiting for. 

We worry we’re doomed to be the same person we’ve always been. We don’t think we can change. In fact, we know we can’t. We’ve tried. 

At the end of the day, we’re still the same person, with the short temper. Grouchy in the morning. 

In Advent, though, we wait. We wait wether we like it or not. And honestly, most of our life is spent in waiting. In Advent, we at least admit it.
And while we wait, we find to our own surprise we have changed. Or rather, we’ve been changed. 

Paul was right all along! 

The peace we longed for; it was our’s. That gentleness we wished we had, it was right there. A gift. Jesus gave it to us. Why, we didn’t even need to protect it. Jesus did that for us, too. 

In Advent we wait. 

But for this joy. This gentleness. This peace, you needn’t wait. Have it! It’s your’s. Right now. Already, because of what Jesus has done. 

So, let me command you, ‘rejoice.’ If I wasn’t clear I’ll say it again, ‘Rejoice in the Lord; always.’

You live by Christ. Rejoice!

As if you had a choice in the matter anyway…