The Fourth Sunday in Advent (December 19, 2021)

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be alway acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, our strength and our Redeemer. Amen.

We live in a cynical age. If you read today’s epistle from Philippians 4 with a cynical eye, you might think that the reading is filled with empty platitudes like a Christian Hallmark greeting card. Yet the context of St. Paul’s letter to the Philippians helps us understand that these aren’t empty words but they’re actually quite profound.

Paul wrote these words from a prison cell. He tells us this in chapter 1 verses 12-25. Further in 2:17, Paul seems to anticipate that his execution is coming as he mentions being poured out like a drink offering in 2:17, an expression he also uses in 2 Timothy 4:6. So Paul is writing this letter to the Philippians, in which he includes numerous exhortations to rejoice, from a prison cell.

But what about the Philippians? Why is he telling them this? Well it helps to know the history of Philippi to understand why the church there needed encouragement. The city got its name from Philip II in 356 BC who was the King of Macedonia and the father of Alexander the Great. Its significance in Paul’s day can be understood in tandem with the history of the Roman Empire. Prior to Julius Caesar, Rome was ruled by two elected consuls. Julius Caesar came to power at a tumultuous time of civil was and was named a dictator due to his victory over his rival Pompey.

But not everyone was pleased with the new arrangement and a group of senators led by Brutus and Cassius assassinated Caesar. The power vacuum left by the assassination did not lead to peace but civil war as the conspirators fought against Caesar loyalists led by Marc Antony and Caesar’s legal successor and nephew Gaius Ocatvius. The war between the two sides was decided at the Battle of Philippi in 42 BC. When the loyalist party defeated the assassins and there was no enemy to be united against, tensions began to mount between Marc Antony and Ocatvius who engaged each other in another conflict. Eventually Octavius defeated Marc Antony and his wife Cleopatra and Octavius was named the first official emperor under the name Augustus Caesar. Further, the Roman Senate declared Julius Caesar to be divine and bestowed the title “Son of the Divine” on Octavius Augustus. Augustus’ imperial authority led to what is now called the pax Romana, a time of relative peace and stability that resulted from the strong grip the Romans held over their empire.

One of Augustus’ policies was to make Philippi a Roman colony, and to ensure Roman hegemony, he settled the region with retired soldiers and renamed the colony after his family. The city became a miniature Rome, an intensely patriotic city. One of the problems with this is that the Roman empire’s founding myth was reliant on emperor worship; Augustus wasn’t just to be obeyed, he was to be worshipped. When Paul visited Philippi, he was met with suspicion. In Acts 16, the people said “These men, being Jews, do exceedingly trouble our city, And teach customs, which are not lawful for us to receive, neither to observe, being Romans.” This is because Christianity asks us not only to abstain from idolatry but also to subjugate all of our identity to God. Where we’re from, our status as citizens in earthly kingdoms are secondary or tertiary in relation to our identity as citizens of heaven. So the abstention from emperor worship by the Phillippian would have been visible to their neighbors and punished. It was visible because nationalistic piety was an everyday occurence in Philippi. Christian non-participation would have stuck out like a sore thumb; like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego’s refusal to worship the statue of Nebuchadnezzer in Babylon in the Old Testament book of Daniel. This refusal would have led to blowback from the Romans who saw the Christian resistance to their emperor cult as an assault on their values and way of life.

All this context makes Paul’s letter to the Church at Philippi quite subversive of the Roman nationalism embodied by the emperor cult. Throughout the letter, he emphasized citizenship in heavenly kingdom as superior to any earthly citizenship (Phil 1:27; 3:20). He reminded the Philippians that their Lord and Savior wasn’t Caesar but Jesus (Phil 2:11; 3:20-21). He lamented over those Christians who fell away by capitulating to social pressure and lost sight of their true calling (Phil 3:18-19). Finally, in our reading today, he puts forward the peace of God as that which would guard their hearts and minds, not Caesar’s pax Romana.

It is in this context that Paul exhorts the Philippians to rejoice always. Far from being empty words, this exhortation is bold, reminding us that joy is a Christian duty, rooted in our relationship with God, ultimately bringing us peace.

Given the centrality of joy in our reading today, it might help to define it as Paul understood and meant it. I would argue that when Paul says “rejoice,” he means something different than how we normally use the word “joy.” Merriam-Webster tells us that joy is a “feeling of great happiness” or “the emotion evoked by well-being, success, or good fortune or by the prospect of possessing what one desires.” Yet, the context doesn’t allow us to understand Paul’s use of joy as purely synonymous with happiness. It certainly does denote gladness or delight, but of a deeper kind than just happiness which is based on circumstances. Joy is not even mutually exclusive with grief. Based on the context of Philippians, joy is a gladness which isn’t contingent on material status, good health, or positive circumstance; joy, for the Christian comes from a recognition of what God has accomplished for us and a participation in the suffering of our Lord.

When Paul tells the Philippians “Rejoice in the Lord always; and again I say rejoice,” he speaks in the imperative—it’s a command, not an option. This is because joy demonstrates that we understand and appreciate what God has done for us. In a few days, we’ll exchange gifts with friends and family around trees which will bring us a sense of joy; but as great as this joy is, it’s just a modicum of the joy we experience because of what God has done for us. It’s just a window into the joy of joys.

This joy that we have about what God has done for us should spill over into behavior. This should be evident in three ways: moderation, prayer, and thanksgiving. The Greek word for moderation here is probably better translated into modern English by the word “gentleness,” which is the result of our appreciation of what God has done. This gentleness is not just aimed at those in one’s immediate family or church; rather, the gentleness St. Paul urges the Philippians to show is directed at all people. Including those who were persecuting them.

Not only did Paul instruct the Philippians to be gentle, he commanded them to come to God in everything with prayer and supplication. This command goes back to what Paul says earlier in the lesson: “the Lord is at hand.” This is a double-entendre in that it can be a reminder of God’s coming judgment which we focus on during Advent which can serve as an impetus for us to act righteously in the present. But also, “the Lord is at hand” is a reminder of God’s enduring presence with us; he is closer to us than we are to ourselves, as St. Augustine reminded us. Because he is at hand, we can turn to him in prayer, no matter what the situation. Because he is at hand, we know that he loves us and that he wants what’s best for us and we can always talk to him.

Finally, Paul reminds the Philippians to be thankful. God has given us so much that we should be constantly living out of gratitude. Thankfulness comes from joy because it’s based on a recognition of what God has done for us. In the Daily Offices of Morning and Evening Prayer, we pray the following in the Prayer of Thanksgiving: “We bless thee for our creation, preservation, and all the blessings of this life; but above all, for thine inestimable love in the redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ; for the means of grace, and for the hope of glory.” Everything we have is because of God’s grace. This recognition should let us not only be thankful in spite of our difficult circumstances, but it should even make us thankful for those difficult circumstances because we know that in them, God is working for our good.

When cultivated, this joy that causes us to be gentle towards others, prayerful, and thankful gives way to peace. Peace can be understood as stability, a restful and quiet confidence. We all look for peace in all sorts of things: jobs, security, finances, etc. But whatever peace we attain in those things will not last. It’s like the parable Jesus tells of the rich fool in Luke 12 in which a rich man tears down his barns and builds bigger ones to store his surplus of grain, saying to himself, “thou hast much good laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry” but God said unto him “thou fool this night thy soul shall be required of thee: then whose shall those things be, which thou hast provided? So is he that he layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God.” The kind of peace we get from our faith in God isn’t fleeting; it’s deep, as St. Paul says, it “passeth all understanding.” We only get this peace with joy.

I came across a story this week about joy. St. Francis of Assisi was a medieval saint and the founder of the Franciscan order, monks who pledged themselves to aid the poor by taking vows of poverty. On a winter’s day, Francis was walking with a friend named Brother Leo. They were freezing because they couldn’t afford warm clothes. As they were walking, Francis turned to Leo and said, “If God desired that the Friars should be a great example of holiness to all people in all lands, please write down that this would not be perfect joy.” A little later, Francis again turned to Leo and said, “If the Friars could make the lame walk; and if we could straighten the crooked; if we could chase away demons; if we could give sight to the blind and speech to the dumb; and even if we could raise the dead after four days, please write down and note carefully that this would not perfect joy.” A little later, Francis again stated, “If the Friars could speak every language; if they knew everything about science, if they could explain all the scriptures; if they could predict the future and reveal the secrets of every soul, please write down and note carefully that this would not be perfect joy.” After a few more steps, Francis, getting more excited, exclaimed, “Brother Leo, if the Friars could sing like angels; if they could explain the movements of the stars; if they knew everything about all animals, birds, fish, plants, stones, trees, and all people, please write down and note carefully that this would not be perfect joy.” Finally, he again cried, “Brother Leo, if the Friars could preach and thus convert every person to faith in Christ, please write down and note carefully that even this is not perfect joy.” This of course piqued Brother Leo’s curiosity so he turned to Francis and asked him what perfect joy was. Francis replied, “If we arrive at our destination and if we are drenched with rain and trembling with cold, covered in mud and exhausted from hunger; and if we knock on the gate and aren’t recognized by the porter who tells us that we are imposters and leaves us outside, exposed to the rain and snow, suffering from cold and hunger; then if we embrace the injustice, cruelty, and contempt with patience, without complaining; and if we believe in faith, love, and humility that the porter knew us but was told by God to reject us, then, my dear Brother Leo, please write down and note carefully that this is perfect joy. Above all the gifts of the Holy Spirit that Christ Jesus gives to his friends is the grace to overcome oneself, to accept willingly, out of love for Him, all contempt, all discomfort, all injury, and all suffering. In this and all other gifts, we ourselves should not boast because all things are gifts from God.”

So as we end this Advent season and begin our celebration of the Nativity of our Lord, it’s important that we choose joy. We choose joy in our relationship with God through prayer. We choose joy in our relationship with God through thanksgiving. But most of all, we choose joy when we imitate the cross of our Lord. Rejoice in the Lord alway, and again I say rejoice: rejoice in good times but especially rejoice when things are hard. Because when you rejoice, you’re expressing your reliance on and faith in our Lord.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.