2008-10-12
Philippians 4:1-9

“Rejoice Always”

James McTyre

Lake Hills Presbyterian
Church (USA)

The Apostle Paul writes
to the Philippians: Rejoice. Rejoice always. I'll say it again:
Rejoice.

Obviously, Paul hasn't
been reading the newspapers lately. There's not a heckofa lot to
rejoice about these days. The word “rejoice” means, “To
enjoy the possession of.” A lot of people are very worried
about what they thought they had possession of – education
funds, retirement savings plans, home equity. There's a lot of
anxiety in the world right now because we don't know what the
future's going to be.

Of course, we know we
never really know what the future's going to be. We know that. We
earn, we plan, we invest, we save – hoping that the future's on
some predictably smooth trajectory. We hope the future stretches out
before us like an Arizona highway. Unfortunately, the future often
looks more like Highway 129 around Lake Fontana (“The Dragon”).

“How Do You Get
There from Here?” or, “The Future as a Road”

We've actually driven
that road, The Dragon. We didn't know any better. We were coming back
from North Carolina and on the map Highway 129 looks straight. That's
because they can't draw lines that small. We thought it looked like a
straight shot, a shortcut. Someone, I think it was me, kept saying,
“It's gotta straighten out soon.” It never does. About 20
minutes into the 11 miles of 318 hairpin turns, with Ninja
motorcycles passing us at 60 miles per hour (we were going, I think,
5), we started laughing deliriously. We'd say, “It's gotta
straighten out soon,” or, “It looked straight on the
map,” and burst out in hysterics. Were we rejoicing? No, but
laughing kept us from getting car sick. Why else were we laughing? We
were laughing at the map. We were laughing at ourselves for being so
naïve, so hopelessly optimistic that what we originally thought,
or what we desperately hoped, would turn out to be true. And, in
time, things did turn out OK. About the time you pop up in Maryville,
whose highways look like Arizona's by comparison, the road does
straighten out, you release your grip on the steering wheel, and you
vow to never again drive anything less than a major Interstate.

It's easy to rejoice
when you can see miles in every direction. It's easy to rejoice when
you know what's coming your way. It's easy to rejoice when someone
hands you a roadmap, microscopically precise in every twist and turn.
But what happens to our rejoicing when we think we're on Easy Street
and it turns out we're riding the Tail of the Dragon? What happens
when our straight-line plans take a turn, and another turn, and
another? How do we rejoice then?

---

“But, it looked
straight on the map.” Or, “Arguing against the mapmaker.”

There are many times in
the church, usually during Children's Sermon (I know because I've
done a couple of these myself), where we compare the Bible to a
roadmap. We show the kids, “OK, you are HERE. And heaven...
well, it's not on this map... but it's probably somewhere way over
near the choir loft.” Already, we know we've got a problem. But
that's OK, because Children's Sermons are short, and they can ask
their parents the tough questions at home. And we go on, “So,
if you want to get from where you are to where heaven is, you can use
the Bible, follow its directions, and find your way. OK, let's pray.”

The Bible as a roadmap
isn't a bad analogy. If you're only going a very short way. If you've
only got one question and if you strategically pick one verse as THE
answer, then yes, the Bible as roadmap analogy works fine. You wake
up and wonder, “What should I do today?” And you turn to
Philippians 4:4, “Rejoice in the Lord always, again I say,
Rejoice,” and there, your day is all mapped out. But what if
your day takes a sharp downward turn, as many lately have?

It would be easy to get
frustrated with the mapmaker. Who hasn't wished that the Bible was
more direct and more precise? Someone make a note to tell God the
Bible would be so much better if it got down to the microscopic level
of every twist and turn. Like that Worst Case Scenario Handbook. The
Worst Case Scenario Handbook's got Step 1, Step 2, Step 3. And if
you're ever stuck in quicksand or jumping out of a burning airplane,
that's the book you want to have with you. We're told all the answers
are in the Bible. I saw a church sign that said so just last week.
But more often than not, the lines in the Bible from Point A to Point
B are drawn with thick brushstrokes. It takes a lot of work on our
part to figure out the details as the dragons of life whip us back
and forth. The deeper we get into the Bible, the deeper the Bible
goes. A path of answers that looks straight at first might lead us
off directions we never could anticipate. Rejoice – sounds like
a simple answer. Except that the questions around rejoicing are
complicated.

---

“It's gotta
straighten out soon.” Or, “Arguing against the road.”

I'm a man. And I've
been unfairly stereotyped. All us men have been unfairly stereotyped
as people who'll never stop for directions. The theory has been
advanced – and in some places accepted as fact – that we
don't ask directions because we're obstinate. That's not true. We're
optimistic. Something in that Y chromosome makes us steadfastly
believe that if we just drive a little farther, we'll get where we're
supposed to be. If we just stay on track, the road will straighten
out. We're optimists.

The Bible tells us,
rejoice. “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I say, Rejoice.”
And it's true: If you keep rejoicing long enough, eventually
something good will come up that's worth rejoicing over and then you
can say to all the people who called you obstinate, “See? I
told you so.”

The Bible says Rejoice.
But it also says – Jesus himself says – to laugh with
those who laugh and cry with those who cry. Again, when you go deep
into the Bible, it takes you deeper. How do you keep rejoicing when
the road throws you a horrible curve? Well, maybe you're not supposed
to rejoice when things are unrejoicable. It's not fair that
any of us should ever get stuck in the valleys, but maybe that's the
way it's supposed to be for a while. We'd like to take a short cut
over the mountaintops, we long to, but there isn't one. We can curse
the curves, but that won't straighten them. We can ignore the turns,
pretend they aren't there, but it won't take long before we run off
the road completely and end up in a ditch. Optimism to the extreme is
ignorance with a smile.

We can blame our
circumstances, we can argue with our circumstances, we can ignore our
circumstances. But if we do, our rejoicing is just a thin resurfacing
of our blame, our arguments and our ignorance. Rejoice,
rejoice always – sounds like a simple answer. Except that in
some circumstances, rejoicing isn't the appropriate answer. The road
is complicated, and so is the map.

---

“I
Think We're Really Lost,” or, “Time to Make a Choice.”

Yes, It's easy to
rejoice when you can see miles in every direction. It's easy to
rejoice when you know what's coming your way. But what happens to our
rejoicing when our straight-line plans take a turn, and another turn,
and another? How do we rejoice then?

It's instructive to
step back and see where Paul is in his own journey of faith when he
wrote this very hopeful, very joyful letter to the Philippians. The
Ritz-Carlton? No. The beach condo? No. The country club? Still no.
Would it surprise you to know that Paul wrote this letter from
prison? He wrote this letter from prison. In a manner of speaking,
you could say he had been put in prison for rejoicing too much in
Christ. In prison for following his beliefs, and still he says,
“Rejoice.” How can he possibly say that? Paul has run
into a dead end, and yet he says, “Rejoice.” Why?

If Paul can rejoice
from his prison cell, it's not because of his own directional
ability. If Paul can rejoice at all, it's because he has come to the
conclusion that he has no sense of direction whatsoever. If Paul can
rejoice it's because he's no longer depending on his own optimism,
his own intelligence, his own plans, his own map. If Paul can rejoice
– and he can – it's because he believes God is more than
a mapmaker. Paul rejoices because there are choices, everyday
choices, there are choices in his roads. Paul rejoices because there
are choices between hope and hopelessness, between joy and
bitterness, between lost and found. Paul may not know where these
choices will take him, but he rejoices that there are choices. So he
writes:

Finally,
beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, 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.

This is not “Yippee!
We're on top of the world!” This is, “I know things are
hard. I know things look bad. I know how it feels to be stuck on a
dead-end. But you've gotta look for those things that are true.
You've gotta search for those things that are honorable. You've gotta
scrape for justice, for purity, for anything, anything
worthy of praise. And then you've got to set your mind on these
things and think about them, night and day.

This is not, “Cheer
up, things could be worse.” This is a letter from prison, from
the end of the road, saying this is how I get through each day, and
this is how you're going to get through each day, too. Paul is
saying, “I can't control anything. I can't control anything
around me, but I can control what I choose to think about. And I'm
going to set my mind on whatever
is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure,
whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable. If I can find anything
where there is any excellence and anything worthy of praise –
that's where I'm going to set my mind.” In other words, Paul
says, “I'm going to set my mind on Christ.” Christ who
was crucified. Christ who spent three days in the ground. Christ who
was raised and who sits at the right hand of God the Father Almighty.
“That's where I'm setting my mind,” says Paul, and that's
where you should set yours, too.”

Ignorance
isn't bliss. Christ is bliss. Arguing with events isn't the answer.
Cursing the map or cursing the mapmaker isn't the answer. Christ is
the answer. But he's an answer drawn in very, very broad strokes. And
on your way from Point A to Point B, you may feel lost between the
lines. That's when you've got to go deep, deep within the word of
God, deep within your soul and choose to praise by finding anything
that's true, anything that's honorable, anything that's just, pure,
pleasing, commendable – anything worthy of praise... and then,
praise. Not because you feel like praising, but precisely because you
don't. When there is nothing else to do, it's time to make a choice.
Choose to praise. Not because praise is the logical thing to do, but
because it's the only thing left to do.

---

“OK.
I guess I'll pull over and ask directions,” or, “The Road
as the Future.”

After
telling the Philippians to set their minds on anything worthy of
praise, Paul gives one final word of direction.

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.

Interesting.
Paul doesn't give any detailed explanation as to what the Philippians
saw or heard from him. He doesn't give an explanation as to why his
plan is going to work, or how soon it's going to bring relief. He
just says, “Keep doing what I taught you.” And then he
adds, “The God of peace will be with you.” Paul's
teaching to his church is, essentially, “Keep going. Keep
going. You may not know where the road will end, but the point is,
you're on the road. Stay there. Stay on the path you've learned and
remember, the God of peace is traveling with you.” The road is
the future. The road IS the future, for the foreseeable future, and
that's what? About the next 24 hours, if we're lucky?

Paul's
personal future wasn't looking so bright, looking at it as he was,
through prison bars. By all indications, Paul's road wasn't running
toward fame, or prosperity, or comfort. Paul was trusting in some
directions, and he wants us all to trust in directions we don't fully
understand. Directions that aren't 100% clear 100% of the time. We
may not know exactly where we're going, but we're going. We may not
understand the directions, but we have direction. And one more thing,
we have the assurance, that wherever we're heading, the God of peace
will be with us. Even though we may feel hopelessly lost, the God of
peace will be with us. That, alone, is reason to rejoice.