Joy in Jesus

Jesu Juva

Philippians 4:4-13                                                         

October 15, 2023

Proper 23A                              

 Dear saints of our Savior~

          What is the most misunderstood teaching of the Bible?  What teaching do most Christians get wrong most of the time?  Which Biblical teaching do we understand the least?  It’s not the nature of the Holy Trinity; we’ve got the creeds to help us with that every Sunday.  It’s not the teaching of original sin; we can see the evidence of that all around us.  Nor is it the teaching of justification by grace; because that gets preached from the pulpit and sung from the hymnal every week.

          So which teaching is most misunderstood?  It’s joy!  Now, admittedly, I don’t have the research to back this up.  It’s just a hunch based on my own pastoral intuition.  But Paul’s letter to the Philippians gives us the perfect opportunity to diagnose our joy deficit and joy deficiency. Paul uses the words “joy” or “rejoice” at least fourteen times in four chapters here.  And nowhere in the Scriptures does the call for joy ring out more clearly than in the first verse of today’s epistle:  Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.

          What do you think when you hear those words?  When the Scriptures say to “rejoice . . . in the Lord . . . always,” what does that mean?  What are we supposed to do—or do differently?  Is it a call to be happy?  To smile more?  To be more optimistic?  More cheerful?  There’s nothing wrong with any of those attitudes.  But joy is something very different.

          The context of Philippians is extremely helpful in understanding joy.  Many of you will recall Paul’s personal circumstances when he put pen to parchment to write this epistle—he was in prison.  Paul the apostle was locked up.  And you will recall from chapter one that he didn’t know whether he would be released or executed.  And he faced both of those possibilities realistically: For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.  I don’t hear happiness in those words.  I don’t hear optimism or cheerfulness.  But I do hear joy.

          And this joy is not an emotion or a feeling.  Emotions and feelings come and go, ebb and flow.  Emotions and feelings are usually tied to our immediate circumstances—to where you are or who you’re with.  Everybody has their happy place these days—maybe some place with a water view or tropical warmth.  But Paul was in prison.  Prison is not a happy place.  But even prison, apparently, can be a joyful place.

          Joy is a gift.  Joy is a fruit of the Holy Spirit.  Joy is the God-given ability to see beyond our immediate circumstances.  Joy is the ability to recognize that Christ is in control—that not even death can separate us from His love and care.  Joy is the ability to navigate both plenty and hunger, abundance and need, trusting that Jesus is holding onto us with His nail-scarred hands.  With joy we can see the horizon of heaven despite all the crosses that confront us here and now.

          Perhaps Paul wrote this epistle of joy to the Philippians because they needed to hear it—because Paul sensed that this particular congregation had “room to grow” when it came to joy.  Of all the different congregations that Paul had founded, the Philippian church was the one that “worked.”  It clicked.  While other churches were filled with strife and divisions and false teachings and false teachers and bad practices—somehow the gospel flourished at Philippi.  The Philippians were solidly grounded in faith toward Christ and in fervent love for one another.  They were ambitious when it came to good works—eager to believe the good news about Jesus and to share the good news about Jesus.  The church at Philippi “worked.”

          I happen know another congregation that “works.”  It’s this one.  Conflict and division are not a part of our personality.  But care and concern and love for one another are always evident.  We have problem-solvers and peace-makers and hard-workers aplenty.  We’re grounded in the gospel of Jesus Christ; His gifts in Word and sacrament are the beating heart of our life together.  Sure, we’ve got our challenges—our weaknesses—and no congregation is perfect.  But I see similarities between this congregation and the one at Philippi.

          And if that’s true, then perhaps we also lack what they lacked.  As Jesus famously told the rich, young, ruler:  one thing you lack.  When it comes to joy we have room to grow, just like the Philippians.  And the thing that wrecks and ruins our rejoicing is the same thing that hindered the joy of the Philippians.  It’s anxiety.  Anxiety is the enemy.  Anxiety robs us of joy and hinders God’s work in us and in our congregation.  This is why, right after Paul writes to “rejoice in the Lord always,” he writes, “Do not be anxious about anything.” 

          If joy is the God-given ability to see beyond our present circumstances, then anxiety is what happens when our present circumstances overwhelm us and hold us hostage.  Do not be anxious about anything.  The bad news about our anxiety is that it’s not merely a bad habit; it’s a kind of idolatry.  We worry and fret because, at some level, we think it will help.  Anxiety gives us a sense of control.  Our anxiety becomes like a false god to whom we turn in times of trouble.  It’s a first commandment problem.  We don’t trust in God above all things.  Does anxiety put bread on the table?  Pay the mortgage?  Does anxiety add a single hour to your life?  No, but it can make the hours you do have absolutely miserable (and joyless).

          Beloved in the Lord, there’s a better way.  There’s a remedy for anxiety.  “Do not be anxious about anything,” writes Paul, “but in everything, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God.”   You don’t have to hold on to your worry.  You can hand it over to the Lord in prayer.  You can let Him handle the trouble.  St. Peter put it even more succinctly:  “Cast all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you.”  That’s what prayer is.  It’s facing your worst fears, naming them and confessing them, and then handing them off to Jesus—letting them go—trusting Him to work all things for your eternal good—asking that His good and gracious will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

          You can trust this Jesus—this Jesus who made Himself nothing, taking the very nature of a slave, being made in human likeness, who humbled Himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross.  He died to take away sins—including the sin of failing to trust Him above all things.  But even more than that, Jesus died to give you freedom—freedom from anxiety.  You don’t have to live with that.  The nail-scarred hands of Jesus are just waiting to carry your worry away.

          We believe in the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.  In your future is that feast of salvation about which Isaiah prophesied in today’s OT reading—a feast of rich food, the best of meats and the finest of wines.  Death has been swallowed up in victory.  According to Jesus, your heavenly homecoming will be like a wedding feast thrown by a king.  In Holy Baptism you were given an invitation.  It’s all been prepared for you by grace.  All that matters is the king’s invitation and the garments of righteousness that He has placed upon you.  Heaven is a party—a feast that has no end.

          Now, if God has gone to all that trouble for you—if, through His Son He has spared nothing to save you and serve you as a guest at His feast for all eternity—don’t you think He can handle whatever tops the list of your troubles today?  Don’t you think He can bear away your angst and replace it with joy and peace?  Don’t you think He can wipe away your worry and give you the gift of contentment in any and all circumstances?  You can have victory over anxiety through Christ who gives you strength.

          Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God.  And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  Let Jesus bear your anxiety away—hand it over in prayer—and receive the peace that passes understanding.  That peace will guard your heart and mind, Paul writes. 

          It sounds strange to think of “peace” as something that guards you.  But the city of Philippi housed a large garrison of Roman soldiers.  It was a military town.  The Philippians would have understood.  God’s peace, like a garrison of soldiers, will guard your heart and mind from the tyranny of anxiety.  God’s peace will guard the door of your heart against that unwelcome intruder who wants to rob you of joy.

          Joy and peace—these are fruits of the Holy Spirit.  They don’t come naturally; they are fruits of faith, gifts from God to you—leading you to live joy-filled lives, free from worry.  For you, to live is Christ and to die is gain.  Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice! 

          In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.