Philippians 4:4-7 Commentary

We’ve already noted how the Year C RCL Epistolary lessons devote relatively scant attention to the first and second comings of Christ. But at least on the first two Sundays in Advent they mention Christ’s return by referring to “the day of the Lord” (1 Thessalonians 3:13; Philippians 1:6, 10) This Sunday’s Lesson doesn’t even make that reference. The closest it comes to referencing either of those comings is in verse 5’s “The Lord is near [engys*].”

The Church seems to have historically largely understood that nearness as chronological. It has, in other words, sometimes talked about the time of Jesus’ return as being “near.” That use of the word nearness is consistent with Jesus talked about summer being “near” (Matthew 24:32) and the time for his return to the heavenly realm as being “near” (Matthew 26:18).

But the New Testament seems to much more often use the word engys (“near”) spatially (i.e. Luke 19:11; Acts 9:38; Ephesians 2:13). This at least leaves open the possibility that in Philippians 4 Paul is referring to the Spirit’s current and ongoing physical nearness to Jesus’ friends.

While preachers may feel the Spirit prompting us to briefly explore the two different kinds of nearness, Philippians 4’s proclaimers don’t necessarily have to choose between the Lord’s chronological and spatial nearness. Paul may, in fact, have both senses of the word engys in mind as he pens verse 5. Yes, the time of Christ’s coming is near. After all, the apostle seemed to assume that. But the Lord is also by the Holy Spirit physically near to the Christians to whom Paul writes in Philippi.

In fact, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit preachers might even choose to examine both types of the Lord’s nearness to fashion an Advent message this Sunday. Preachers might even choose to organize this message around the theme of the effects of knowing that the Lord is near in both senses of the Greek word engys.

Paul begins this Epistolary Lesson with verse 4’s familiar invitation to “Rejoice [chairete] in the Lord always [pantote].” In fact, as if to underline that invitation, he immediately adds: “I will say it again [palin]: Rejoice! [chairete].” Rejoicing is a common theme in the apostle’s writings, but perhaps especially in his letter to the Christians in Philippi (i.e. 2:18; 3:1). Here Paul seems to be suggesting that since the Lord is near, Christians can, in The Message’s paraphrase, “celebrate” or “revel in” not just what God does, but also in who God is.

Preachers might ask our hearers and ourselves why the Spirit might have prompted Paul to repeat his call for such rejoicing. While we’re not sure just what dampened Philippi’s Christians’ joy, we do know a bit of what threatens contemporary Christians’ joy. Pastorally sensitive preachers might choose to reflect on those threats in our message on Philippians 4.

The apostle implies that regardless of their circumstances, Jesus’ followers can celebrate that the time of Christ’s coming is near, in other words that it will happen soon, whether for individuals or the whole world. However, we can also revel in knowing that Christ by his Spirit is already near us, helping his followers to, among other things, marvel at God’s goodness.

Implicit in Paul’s invitation to rejoice in the Lord is a summons to slow down enough to contemplate the character and actions of the God whom we worship in Jesus Christ. After all, it can be hard to rejoice in the Lord when we move too quickly to notice things about God. It can even be hard to meditate on who God is as we spend time in this season busily celebrating Christ’s first coming.

So this Sunday may be an especially appropriate time for Christians to remind ourselves that slowing down enough to deliberately contemplate things like God’s grace, patience and mercy invites us to celebrate them. Our careful discernment of all the ways God blesses us leads us to marvel at it all. In this fast-paced season of gatherings and celebrations, this Sunday’s Epistolary Lesson invites Jesus’ friends to look for ways to pause long enough to revel in the wonder of the Incarnation.

However, in verse 5 Paul goes on to remind his readers that because the Lord is “near” in both time and space, we can also let our “gentleness [epieikes] be evident [gnostheto] to all.” Here is a word of both reproach and summons for Jesus’ modern followers. Our mildness is not always on public display, particularly when we’re stressed or disagreeing with people about issues about which we feel strongly. On this fourth Sunday in Advent in which we especially remember the Lord’s nearness, Paul summons us to a more Christ-like way. He invites God’s adopted children to cultivate the kind of winsomeness and perhaps even moderation that the Greek word epieikes implies.

The Message paraphrases this summons beautifully: “Make it as clear as you can to all you meet that you’re on their side, working with them and not against them. Help them see that the Master is about to arrive. He could show up at any minute.” The New Living Translation’s paraphrase of verse 5 sounds a similar note: “Let everyone see that you are considerate in all you do.”

How does such gentleness grow out of Christians’ awareness of the Lord’s nearness? God comes to us here and now to, among other things, plant in us the fruits of the Spirit that include chrestotes (“kindness”) that’s a grammatical “cousin” of the epieikes (“gentleness”) for which Paul advocates in Philippians 4. What’s more, Jesus’ friends can be gentle with everyone because we remember that at Christ’s return, all our disagreements will be swallowed up in the wonder of God’s amazing grace.

God’s gentle adopted children who contemplate and marvel at the Lord’s nearness don’t, what’s more, in verse 6’s words, need not be “anxious [merimnate] about anything [meden].” The kind of worry caused by people and things that so easily paralyzes Christians is not an helpful attribute of those who know that God is near in both time and space. The distractedness that grows so well in worry’s soil can even make it that much harder for us to be gentle with everyone we meet.

Of course, as we learn more about mental health, we’re learning more about some of the causes of human anxiety. Preachers with pastor’s hearts don’t want to make people feel guilty about their anxiety. Wise pastors will even find ways to make that very clear in our messages on Philippians 4.

We might, however, gently note one of Paul’s antidotes for anxiety. Because the Lord is near, he goes on to write in verse 6, Jesus’ followers can “in every situation [en panti], by prayer [proseuche] and petition [deesei], with thanksgiving [eucharistias], present [gnorizestho] our requests [aitemata] to God.”

Here the apostle summons his friends in Philippi to take those things that so easily make us anxious and give them to the nearby Lord in prayer. He may even be inviting Christians to prayerfully offer our worry about things and people to God. The Message’s paraphrase of this is again most lyrical. “Instead of worrying, pray” we read in its verse 6, “Let your petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns.”

Paul, what’s more, reminds us that thanksgiving is part of even our supplications. Even as we prayerfully plead with God for and about what burdens us, Jesus’ friends can always thank the God who is near for God’s promise to answer all our prayers in ways that bring God glory and are best for God’s dearly beloved people.

*I have here and elsewhere added in brackets the Greek words for the English words the NIV translation uses.

Illustration

In his book Whistling in the Dark, Frederick Buechner offers a profound meditation on the rejoicing to which Paul summons his Philippian Christian friends. He writes, “A young minister acquaintance of mine said not long ago, ‘There are two kinds of Christians in the world. There are gloomy Christians and there are joyful Christians,’ and there wasn’t the shadow of a doubt which kind he preferred with his smile as bright as his clerical collar, full of bounce and zip and the gift of gab, and there is little doubt as to which we all prefer.

“And why not? Joy is at the end of it, after all. Astonishment and joy are what our faith finally points to, and even Saint Paul, that in a way gloomiest of Christians, said as much though he was hardly less battered than the Jesus he preached by the time he had come through his forty lashes less one, his stonings and shipwrecks and sleepless nights.

“Yet at the end, licking his wounds in a Roman lockup, he wrote, ‘Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice.’ But it is at the end that he wrote it. Rejoice is the last word and can be spoken only after the first word. The sheltering word can be spoken only after the word that leaves us without a roof over our heads, the answering word only after the word it answers.’

Preachers who proclaim Philippians 4 do well to ask ourselves and our hearers about the sometimes grim “word” in our lives that comes before “rejoice.”