Steeped in Joy

When the Apostle Paul wrote his letter to the Christians in Philippi, he was in prison hanging in the balance between life and death. Yet, of all of Paul’s letters, this is the one that is most steeped in deep joy. (You probably want to go read Philippians. It’s only 4 chapters; it’ll take you 15-20 minutes. Go ahead; I’ll wait.)

Glad you’re back. So, what did you think? Remarkable, right?

In ancient Rome, prison wasn’t a punishment; it was like a holding tank while the authorities decided whether you were guilty or innocent. If you were innocent, you’d soon walk out of prison a free man. If not, you’d be executed. A place where Paul literally stood in the gap between life and death.

How could he be so full of joy?

Paul understood that even – or maybe especially in – hard and challenging times, our strength, confidence, and joy is unrelated to external circumstances. It’s an inside job.

I’ve been joking with some of my colleagues that in this time of pandemic, I’m never quite sure what day it is, even what month it is. The days have seemed much the same and time seems to be accelerating. I’m not sure what that’s about, but it does point to the fleeting nature of our lives. On a recent Sunday morning, I was sitting in my office and got a phone call from a seasonal member that her husband had died a few days earlier. His decline and death was sudden and unexpected. They had been here in Door County just a few weeks earlier. I had just seen him at our drive-in church, and now he was gone.

That’s the nature of this life. We live, and one day we will die. And while none of us probably looks forward to that day, we need not fear it. Why? Because we belong to Christ. Whether we live or whether we die, we belong to Christ. The secret to joy in the midst of struggle and challenge is to know that our lives are held in God’s loving embrace and that we live in God’s gracious presence. Every minute of every day. Because of this, we can live confidently and hopefully, in a manner worthy of the Gospel, shining the light of God’s love and grace to whomever we meet.

Otto was a working man. He had worked all his life, but still didn’t have much of a retirement savings and so he and Doris lived mostly off social security. They lived in a double-wide manufactured home in the trailer park east of town. Their tiny postage stamp sized lawn was impeccably groomed.  Otto began his treatments for cancer with high hopes, but pretty quickly we knew that cancer was winning. While he wished for more days, he made the best of the ones he had, often inviting friends and family for visits. Relationships were Otto’s greatest wealth; in that regard he was one of the richest men I’ve ever known. On the morning he died, I gathered with his family and we stood around his bed in that tiny bedroom where there was barely enough room for us to stand between the bed and the wall. We prayed and we sang Otto across the river. Death had come. And it was a moment as replete with joy as any moment I have ever experienced. Otto was in the arms of Christ. Whether he lived or died, he was in the arms of Christ.

That’s why we live with joy.

Pastor Jim Honig - Shepherd of the Bay Lutheran Church, Ellison Bay