Rejoice
in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let
your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry
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 surpasses all understanding,
will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:4-7)
This
is the Epistle for next Sunday. But
first, a problem: Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Greek epieikes (ἐπιεικὲς) might mean gentleness, but Paul means more than that:
declining to react, reluctance to engage in a dispute, willingness to let it go.
The
emphatic verb here, however, as you heard, is Rejoice! Double rejoicing, in fact… Paul writes, Again
I say, rejoice! I have a memory of
Music I at Auckland University, 1954, Professor Holinrake, and he made us sing this
whole text in Henry Purcell’s The Bell Anthem… with decidedly mixed results.[1] Rejoicing is what happens when you know that
everything that can be right, right now, is right. Other things may be far from right. But you are held at this inner space in love
and in order. Rejoicing is when the
heart and not merely the liturgy says sursum corda, you may lift up your
hearts… as when Etty Hillesum writes from Westerbork on her way to Auschwitz: There
is a really deep well inside me. And in
it dwells God. Sometimes I am there, too
… And that is all we can manage these
days and also all that really matters: that we safeguard that little piece of
You, God, in ourselves. Rejoicing is
not feeling happy – it is finding the inner place where all is well.
Then
Paul writes, Do not worry about anything. Some people worry about everything. Some observe a kind of law which says that
the amount you worry tells everyone the amount you care... but in everything
by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to
God. I really don’t think this is
going to God with a shopping list. Our
needs are known. Wisdom however includes
a keen sense of what is not going to change… and so we begin the process of
letting go. Everyone knows what the
alcoholics call the Serenity Prayer – not everyone knows that it was written by
the American theologian Reinhold Niebuhr, and what he wrote was this:
God, give me grace to accept with serenity
the things that cannot be changed,
courage to change the things which should be changed,
and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other.
Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time,
accepting hardship as a pathway to peace,
taking, as Jesus did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it,
trusting that You will make all things right, if I surrender to Your will,
so that I may be reasonably happy in this life,
and supremely happy with You forever in the next.
Paul
goes on: And the peace of God… the shalom of God… which surpasses all
understanding… That word “understanding”
in Greek is nous (νοῦς) which has entered the English language as nous[2],
meaning mind, intellect. God’s gift of
peace/shalom is just as likely to be despite events and the state of things, as
to be because of them. It is not cause
and effect, so it is not accessible to our understanding -- it is grace, not a
matter of achievement or deserving, but a gift of love.
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