Sermon for the Third Sunday of Advent
December 15, 2024
Rejoice in the Lord always [Philip. 4:4]. I associate those words with the third Sunday of Advent in the same way I think of He has risen indeed on Easter and Glory to God in the highest on Christmas Eve. Joy is the reason today’s candle is pink. It’s the brightest, warmest spot in the dark and cold season of Advent. Back in the olden days, when our Christmas celebrations hadn’t yet become what they are now, I think this message was needed. It was a welcome reminder that things were not as bleak as they seemed—that there’s something on the horizon that will transform these long nights into a promise of the very presence of God.
And that’s exactly what today’s scripture reading says to us. Rejoice in the Lord; let everybody see how you treat others. A lot of translations have Paul telling people to make their gentleness known. And gentleness is a very good word. But the Greek word goes deeper. It’s not just a gentleness of spirit, but a generosity of spirit. It is kindness even when it goes up against another’s unkindness.
I think this starts in our closest relationships—among our family and friends, and (especially) in our church family. I don’t know whether this is getting worse as time goes by, but it sometimes seems to me that it is. What I’m talking about is our kneejerk reaction to the things other people say and do—people we know well. Among the members of the body of Christ, we should assume the best; we should harbor in our hearts a deep trust that our church family wants the best for us and for the congregation we’re a part of. But too often I think we assume the worst instead. We imagine that people’s intentions are not good, that they’re putting us down or doing something mean-spirited. But this is the opposite of what Paul is saying here. Be gentle; be kind and considerate—both in the way we treat others, but also in the ways we receive others’ treatment of us.
But Paul doesn’t seem to be talking here only about our close relationships. He says to show this side of ourselves to everyone… because we have lots of dealings with other people, too—people we don’t know all that well, people who might not hear the gospel in sermons, but who will see the gospel in the ways Christians treat them. Let everyone see that you are considerate in all you do [v. 5].
And why is this? Because the Lord is coming soon [v. 6]. And this can mean two things to us. The first (and the meaning Paul intends here) is the return of Jesus and the end of the present age—something the Christians of that era thought would happen any minute. This meaning still holds for us, though we don’t seem to live with the same urgency as the earliest Christians did.
But then there’s the meaning we add to it in Advent. The Lord is coming soon; the birth of Jesus is right around the corner. I continue to be disgusted by so-called Christians who get angry at people who dare to wish them Happy Holidays. The internet is full of videos this time of year of people who abuse store clerks and other workers who don’t wish them a Merry Christmas. Is this really the best witness we can offer for the kindness, the gentleness, the generosity of spirit that Paul demands of Jesus’ followers? So whether it’s because Jesus will return soon, or because Christmas is coming: Be considerate of others.
Then Paul says not to worry about anything. Jesus also said not to worry. And whether they’re from Paul or Jesus, these are very nice words. But isn’t that all they are? Paul was living in a simpler time when he said not to worry about anything. Of course he wouldn’t have told me this if he knew about my negative bank balance. He wouldn’t have said not to worry if he knew about my problems at work… or school. Surely he wouldn’t have said this if he knew about my relationship problems. My latest medical test results. My late mortgage payment…
Paul wrote these words from prison. And he wasn’t spending a night in jail for jaywalking. He was charged with a crime—disloyalty to the emperor—that carried the death penalty. So don’t think Paul’s first-century problems weren’t as big a deal as our 20th-century problems. If anything they were worse. And in the end, he was, in fact, executed for his crimes against the empire.
So when Jesus (who was executed) and Paul (who was also executed) tell us not to worry, I think we can view them as pretty reliable sources who weren’t just talking to hear their own voices. No matter what our circumstances are, we can safely trust the One who created the universe, and who took on flesh to deliver us—not only from all the stuff that overwhelms us, but our own mistakes.
And because we trust God, we can also take our concerns to God. Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything [v. 6]. Too many of us think of prayer as a shopping list. Here’s a list of the things I need, the people I want God to fix, the situations that upset me. But I don’t think that’s the kind of prayer Paul talks about in his letters. It’s interesting that there’s at least one other place where Paul connects joy and prayer as he does in Philippians 4, and that’s 1 Thessalonians 5: Always be joyful, he says. Never stop praying [vv 16-17].
And by unceasing prayer, I don’t think Paul can be talking about constantly sending God lists of people and things. He must be talking about deep communication. Thinking about God. Noticing what God is doing in our lives and in our world. Whether verbally or mentally, sending God thanks. Reading the scriptures and opening our hearts and minds to what God’s word means. Looking for situations where we can share God’s love. Even accepting correction when the Holy Spirit makes known to us that something we’ve said or done is hurtful. This is what it means to never stop praying. And this is how Christians can find profound peace [see v. 7] in knowing what we’re about, what it means to live in a faith community, and—most importantly—whom we belong to. Don’t expect everybody to understand this. But your family in Christ will certainly understand, because it's the reason we’re here singing and praying and listening and seeking community in this place.
What Paul says next connects us to the peace beyond understanding, to the joy of Christ’s coming, and to the gentleness that he commanded: He tells us to fix our thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. He tells us to think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise [v. 8].
Things that are true and honorable and right, pure and lovely and admirable—these are things we can choose. Sure, we might have to train our minds to think about them. But they’re obviously a choice. Choosing such things leads to happiness. This is important and it is Christian. But I don’t think it’s exactly what Paul was talking about when he said at the beginning of this passage to be full of joy. Happiness, I think, is what we choose for ourselves. Joy is what God chose for us before the foundation of the world. The swirling stars and the beauty of new-fallen snow are aspects of joy. Even more joyful are the exodus from Egypt and the giving of God’s word on Sinai. These pale in comparison to the arrival of God in the flesh and the song of the angels, and the rising of the Crucified One on Easter morning. This is the joy that lies behind all sorrow and all happiness. It’s an unalterable joy that God has granted for eternity. It is a joy that wraps us in its arms as surely as Mary embraced the Baby Jesus in hers.
So, yes, choose happy thoughts, kind thoughts, dignified thoughts. But sometimes circumstances overwhelm us and loveliness is far from our minds. When we can barely keep our heads above water—or even if we’re drowning—we were made for joy; we were made in joy. The joy of Christmas and the joy of Easter are eternal. So let’s always seek the joy of the Lord that’s inside us, and know that, deep down, that’s who we are and why we were created.
—©2024 Sam Greening
