difference

 

I am reflecting on an extract from Paul’s letter to the saints—the local church—in Philippi, a Roman colony in Macedonia or what we know as northern Greece. This (Philippians 4.1-9, below) is the passage from the New Testament set to be read aloud this coming Sunday.

Paul begins by speaking of the people he is writing to as being as brothers and sisters to him—family, not in a biological sense, but a shared identity within the family of God. He speaks of his love for them, and his longing to see them and be with them again. Do we know what it is like to belong to such a community, where, whenever you are not present, they are on your mind, and the anticipation of being with them again fills you with an expectant joy? Paul describes them as his joy and his crown—the laurel wreath given to athletes; the equivalent of saying your friends cause you as much pride and joy as the race event medal, or football tournament medal, around your neck. That your church family is your Show & Tell.

And Paul encourages them to stand firm, in a particular way, beginning with addressing two women he knew well, Euodia (Yoo-OD-ee-ah) and Syntyche (Soon-too-khay). Euodia’s name means the good road, or, the blessed life, the charmed existence. Syntyche’s name means an accident, or, a chance encounter. And their lives have collided, as friends of, and co-workers with, Paul. But their own friendship has gone off the rails. Paul urges them to make up, to be reconciled to one another—a process he wisely proposes will need help or facilitation. And he reminds them (all) that their names are written in the Book of Life, the record of those who are known and loved by God, those whose soul has been ransomed by God, having formerly been enslaved by the tyranny of mere existence.

In response to such a happy accident as having been met by God, in the good news (gospel) concerning Jesus, and so being led onto the good Way, Paul urges joy, at all times, in all circumstances. Paul, who had been flogged and imprisoned in Philippi, and who had sung hymns of praise in his chains, in a series of events that led to the prison officer being baptised, and a second congregation being established in Philippi.

He speaks of gentleness, and the awareness of the presence of Jesus close to us, whatever we are facing; of peace, when we bring our anxieties to God in thankful prayer.

Last week, three teenagers from our community died in a tragic accident. What does it mean, to rejoice in times of overwhelming grief—recognising that life is messy, and that no emotion cancels out another? How do we celebrate—weddings, baptisms, graduations, achievements—while also steeling ourselves for funerals? Where is Jesus, in such tragedy? How can we hold ourselves, and one another, gently? How can we know peace, when we are anxious—parents a little more anxious than before about where their children are; young people a little more anxious than before about leaving the house? What does it mean, to speak of peace—to be a non-anxious presence in an anxious world? To know peace surrounding and guarding our hearts and minds?

Paul would say, these things—joy and gentleness and peace—are evidence of the fruit of the Holy Spirit, given us by God, dwelling within us as we dwell within God. That this is a mystery, but that these things are God at work in us and for us and through us for those around us. A mystery, not something to be intellectually understood but experientially discovered to be true.

Finally, Paul urges his friends—his brothers and sisters—to focus on particular things, the kind of things that run contrary to where social media seeks to draw and hold our attention. Look for what is good, he says: for whatever is true and honourable and just and pure and pleasing and commendable and excellent and praiseworthy.

In other words, to write a eulogy (eulogy, from ‘to speak well of’) for those who are still alive, not waiting until they are taken from us by death.

And to persevere in so doing.

These are the ways in which we maintain the kind of community that is ‘thick’ enough to withstand even the times when we must live through the end of the world, as we have known it (as we all do, on a regular basis, through bereavements of every kind, including divorced, redundancies, not getting the job we applied for, the deaths of parents or children, chronic and terminal illness...)

This is the difference that knowing God is supposed to make. God, whose character is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness (generosity), faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control—and who longs for us to share in these things, to experience them firsthand, as we are transformed by Love into love’s likeness.

Be more Philippian. Be more Paul. Desire to be more like Jesus.

Philippians 4.1-9

4 1 Therefore, my brothers and sisters, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm in the Lord in this way, my beloved.
2 I urge Euodia and I urge Syntyche to be of the same mind in the Lord.
3 Yes, and I ask you also, my loyal companion, help these women, for they have struggled beside me in the work of the gospel, together with Clement and the rest of my co-workers, whose names are in the book of life.
4 Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.
5 Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near.
6 Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.
7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
8 Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honourable, 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.
9 Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.