GCA Sermon 12.20.12

Sermon December 21, 2014 Philippians 4: 4-7 Grace be with you and Peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, Amen.

Dear Congregation, I am reading the text for today’s sermon in Philippians 4: 4-7. Paul writes to one of his favorite church communities in Philippi, while being locked up in prison: 4

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!

5 Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.

6 Do not worry about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Rejoice! This command may stir some resistance among some of us: Happiness, I don’t think you can command somebody to feel happiness!

I remember when I was a student and one of my theology professors was preaching on the 4th of Advent.

He stood high up on the chancel and with a strict face thundered “rejoice” with a loud voice down to us students. Even when he called us at least ten times during his sermon to “rejoice”, we, his listeners did not feel even a bit more joyful. I only got frustrated. You cannot command happiness as if pushing a button.

“Rejoice” Several among us, and not only the children, have been looking forward to the Holy days and to long awaited days off. We are looking forward that the waiting will have an end. The children can’t wait until they finally can open the gifts that have been piling up under the Christmas tree.

Some are looking forward especially this year to finally having the family gathered.

Sometimes we anticipate a special moment for a long time: A reuniting with a family member, the beginning of the holiday time off and the meeting of an old friend, even if it can only happen online. We are thinking about it for a long time and anticipate it. We live in anticipation!

In an African tradition it says: “Joy is a song in your stomach”. The reason for this song can be very different for every person. But to rejoice upon command does seem hardly possible.

The stores and online merchants advertise in this Christmas season many gifts that supposedly bring joy.

But is this true? I remember as a child, I was really happy about the gifts I got for Christmas. However, after about two weeks the special gift I had received felt rather ordinary and normal. My happiness had subsided.

Also this year especially: what can make us feel happiness, when so many things have been sad all year?

If this is true, should be expect any joy to come for Christmas? If it isn’t the gifts that bring lasting joy: What else could become the reason for our happiness? We long for a happiness that lasts longer than a moment, longer than two weeks. We long for happiness that becomes a lasting strength in our life.

Joy that lasts! This is not easy to find. You cannot produce it, and you cannot buy it.

There are two words in English: Happiness and Joy. Happiness describes the feeling we experience when something beautiful, positive is happening to us. Joy, on the other hand, is on a deeper level of perception. Joy is more like an inner peace that we find when we go deep into ourselves. This joy is independent from the exterior world. Joy, that is the peace of God living in us. Or the “kingdom of God” as Jesus had called it.

And that joy is what Paul talks about here. He who sits in prison while writing this letter and who certainly does not have a reason for external happiness . He, who had every reason to complain and to worry, he instead wished his spiritual brothers and sisters joy – "Joy". Not because everything is going well or smoothly, no, the challenges and worries of life can’t be chased away easily. But Paul knew about this deeper dimension. He knew about this peace, this Joy that is independent from our circumstances. Joy that is deeper. Joy that remains even during difficult times.

However, don’t we know much more than the lasting feeling of joy the lasting feeling of worry?

In a German song, the words go like this: “Goof morning, dear worries, did you wake up too?” Often our beginning feelings of joy are being overwhelmed by a blanket of sorrow that wraps around us and subdues our Spirit.

Paul seems to know this as well and so he says: “Do not worry about anything! Once again “something like a command that is impossible to follow” some of us might think. How often do we experience that somebody asks us “How are you?”

And if we answer not superficially with a “fine”, the answer will often be: “I am worried about …”

You can hardly tell somebody who is worried or anxious to just stop. Worries are real: Worry about the children, the grandchildren, anxiety about health or money. Worry about tomorrow. And then all the Christmas-worries (in German the word for shopping has the word “worry” in it).

If Paul had said: “Be anxious, or be worried” how easy that would have been for us. But NOT to worry, not to be anxious, that seems impossible. An older pastor once said: “Worries are like your own children, they grow taller than you and they don’t allow you to tell them anything anymore.”

That means as much as: Our anxiety and worries start having their own life. They start “dancing on our heads” (as a German expression says) whatever you want to do, when you go for a walk or when you try to go to sleep.

They occupy you constantly. Yes, and thoughts of worry can rob someone completely of peace. In some way you can say that peace and worries are enemies. And most of the time the worries win, don’t they?

Paul however wants his friends to make room for this deeper joy again and therefore says: “Do not be afraid, do not worry”!

How can it be him who says these words? Wasn’t he locked up in prison when he wrote his words to the Philippians? How astonishing! He is talking about joy as if that is the most normal thing, even in his situation. I don’t quite understand Paul. Isn’t he feeling terribly alone? Wouldn’t anxiety and worry be totally understandable given his situation? I could understand if thoughts come up for Paul as for example: “God has given up on me. Nobody has come to support or free me. There is no help!”

But Paulus sees things differently: “The Lord is near” he asserts and reminds the Philippians.

And this joy he wanted the congregation in Philippi to experience as well. “Rejoice for the Lord is near!”

When we speak and believe as Paul, saying “God is near”, then we will still experience anxiety or worry in

our life. However: our worries will no longer “own” us.

They have lost their power over us.

A wisdom word says: “We cannot hinder that sorrow like birds circle around our heads. But we can prevent them from building nests in our hair”.

Yes, and how does this look like practically? Paul advises: “Do not worry about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. Prayer is therefore the practice that hinders the “birds of worry” to start nesting on our heads. The practice of this kind of prayer has been described as “Worry defense”. We name the worries and anxieties (our own and that of others) in our prayers and bring them to God. Paul speaks here from experience. He considers his thoughts of worry, his "unhappiness" just like circling birds that he captures and shoos away before they can nest in his head. And then instead of focusing on all the external unhappiness, he goes inward, which is the only place in a prison where one can go. And there in, in himself, Paul finds this peace, this deeper joy, this Joy of which he writes. God's presence!

This year 2020, the world in which we live has experienced similar limitations to our experience of happiness. Many have spent unhappy times - as if in prison. Many of us were sick. Many have experienced

restrictions. The usually abundant social and commercial “happy times” have disappeared. Some have spent a lot of time alone this year. Many distractions were not possible. We know the bird of disappointment, the loneliness birds, the sadness birds.

Our Happiness culture has gone through a year of mourning, a year of captivity. Some people ask: How can we celebrate Christmas? Easy external happiness is certainly not going to come up easily this year. But luckily Paul doesn't even talk about Happiness, he talks about Joy! He talks about this deeper joy that does not come from the outside, but from within.

I wish and pray for all of us that we too experience this letting go of sorrow, and then this joy and the peace that Paul experienced.

In this Pandemic, during these turbulent times, we are safe and protected by the joy of God's presence in us.

And this joy is what Paul also calls the peace that God made with us in Jesus. It is an experience, not just a thought of inner peace, inner joy.

And so, Paul concludes his writing with the words that even today we still hear very often at the end of sermons: " And may the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, guard our hearts and our minds in Christ Jesus” who is the joy and the presence of God. Amen

Dear Church community, dear friends, the grandparents' package arrived on time. Excited, the children unwrap a big object. A long flat wooden block, in the middle erected a mast with three cross beams. It is not sails attached to it, but small tin buckets and colorful bags, 24 in number. A ship, fully loaded!

Now the children have also discovered the map. "Dear grandchildren," the grandmother writes, "now you are already older. That's why your advent calendar looks different than usual this time. Every day you will find a word that God wants to tell you. It's the best we have.

That is what we want to give you. Because we love you.

Now don't make long faces. There's still a little thing that comes with it, something sweet, a toy or a bit of money.

And beware: Take turns nicely!"

Every morning the children run to their Advent ship.

Tear up paper. Unpack chewing gum, a tiny flashlight, a doll. And a note with a saying. It is sometimes read in the evening or the next day. And quickly forgotten again.

But it also happens that the words immediately touch the young reader. "Listen, Mum," he says, "what's here.

God says to you, "You are wonderfully made! Don’t you agree?"

There comes a ship, loaded. The love of the grandparents can be grasped with hands. The children also understand that Grandma and Grandpa want to pass on to them what is important to them. God's Word.

Food for the soul. The children do not always like adult

food. But sometimes there is a word that touches and strengthens them. Like Grandma and Grandpa, they understand in the moment, that is how God loves me.

There is a ship. His arrival is tied to longings. On board is long-awaited cargo. Saturating grain, precious spices, noble woods. Letters with messages from distant relatives. The crew. The friend who goes to the sea, the lover, the husband. The ship connects what was separated. It's between the worlds.

From a far, namely the 15th century, the Advent and Christmas song “Es kommt ein Schiff geladen� also comes to us.

There comes a ship loaded to his' highest board, bears God's Son with graces, the Father's et/ernal word.

The ship goes quietly in the shoot, it carries an' expensive load; the sail is love, the Holy Spirit the Mast.

The anchor is on earth, there is the ship on land.

The word becomes flesh, the Son is sent to us.

Born in Bethlehem in the stable a precious child, is given up for us; It must be praised.

And who wants to embrace, to kiss this child with joy must suffer with him as well great torture and torment, then die with him and spiritually be born anew, to inherit eternal life, as it is with him.

Mary, God's Mother, You have to be praised.

Jesus is our brother, the dear little child you raised.

Strange and familiar the melody, old and mysterious the words. Each stanza is divided into two parts. As if on gentle waves, the ship rocks in the first part. The tones explore the depth. In the second half, the travelers set their feet back on shore. They walk forth vigorously and cheerfully. Climb up from the harbor to the city with the melody and then return to the deep opening tone, as if into the ship's belly.

Since ancient times, the ship has been a symbol of the encounter between two worlds. Sea and land, heaven and earth, God and humans. The song allows several interpretations. It has been sung as a Marian song. Mary, the pregnant woman, is like a ship. It carries an expensive burden. God sends the most precious, the best he has: His Son. His declaration of love to us. His eternal word. What God says is reliable. He doesn't just say, I love you. He sends us a human being. Jesus. The friend who walks with us through our life.

In the ship the early Christians also saw a picture for the church. It symbolizes the building where we meet. It also symbolizes the community of people that travel with Jesus. But we can also regard the soul of every single Christian as a ship. Quietly it drifts away. When the wind blows strongly, it gets faster.

Love is the sail. It catches the wind power so that we can gain momentum. Love keeps our life ship going.

Love is movement, outwardly and within. We go one with the other. We want to know what moves the other, laugh and mourn with him or her, anger and hope, hike and rest.

The poet C.F. Meyer describes it this way: Two sails illuminating The deep blue bay!

Two sails swelling Toward quiet escape!: Like one in the winds Curves and moves, Will the feeling also One by the other aroused.

One desiring to haste, The other too goes fast, One requiring rest, Resting also his company.

Like one sail by the other, God allows himself to be moved by us. God deeply cares about us. He takes part in our destiny. That is why he sent us Jesus. He hears

the blind man's cry for help from Jericho: “Son of David, have mercy on me”. He gives in to the mothers' request: “Bless our children!” He fulfils the hope of the royal official, whose son is seriously ill. “Lord, come down before my child dies!”

The course that our life ship takes is not set once and for all. We can take Jesus on board. This does not protect us from the storms. But it helps to get through them.

And if the wind gets too strong? As might have been the case this past year 2020? Then I have to take down the sails, otherwise my ship capsizes. Sometimes I have no strength to love. Feel abandoned by God and man, disappointed, unable to control my boat. But even if the sails are folded - the mast is still standing. The Holy Spirit says our song. Unexpectedly, God's power works in us. The comforter who raises us up. The mast looks like a cross when the sail is lowered. Or like a man with outstretched arms. He reminds us: Jesus goes with us.

He can command the wind to be still and calm the waves.

The ship connects two worlds: heaven and earth. God is casting anchors in our world. He abides with us.

Strengthens our hearts so that we do not perish. Even if the waves hit high.

God's creative Word, which has brought everything into life - this word has become man itself. Born of Mary.

Wrapped in diapers. Housed in a stable. But this is not a

cute picture. Embracing the child does not mean hiding the suffering. The child is born while in transit with his parents, and soon he has to flee. The child will always be close to the lost, to those who have not yet found an anchorage, to those who have no loved one, and no trust in themselves and neither in God. It is precisely to them that God sends His Son. Food for the soul contains the Advent ship, God's word and sweets and small gifts. Provisions for the journey of life. When we have Jesus on board, we are cared for.

I learned about a trip overseas at the German Marine Museum Bremerhaven. A four-master in the 19th century. A cargo ship. The crew has a lot of provisions with them; the journey can take many weeks. From Hamburg around Cape Horn to Chile. The crew members don't know how long they'll be on the road. In the first week they are well looked after. Fresh fruit and vegetables, potatoes and bread. The longer the journey, the more monotonous the food becomes. Salted meat and white cabbage. Dry Ship's biscuits and stale water.

Lemon juice so they don't get sick, and now and then a glass of rum for the mood. When it rains, they lay a sail flat and catch sweet water in it. Grateful who enters home soil again in the end.

There are lavish and desert times. On the journey of a freight ship, in the history of a church community, in our human history and on the path of each of us. Sometimes faith offers delicious food. Then again, God's word is

dry like ship's biscuit. In the event of a strong sea, we may not be able to eat anything at all. It may take us time to regain strength after a hurricane. Maybe the ship is leaking. Or we ourselves have suffered injuries. We cannot control that our faith tastes good. Or which path our lifeboat takes.

And so the song we sing is not sweet. It tells of Christmas, but it does not conceal the cross. Because it is precisely in suffering that faith and trust in God carries us! And others are with us. Together we use our food for the journey: Songs and prayers, conversation and silence and God's Word. “You are wonderfully made!�

Ancient is the Christmas song of the ship. In some women's monasteries they have not only sung it, but also danced it. The quiet wave movement of the first lines. The courageous departure of the last. In singing, we bridge the hundreds of years. What we sing becomes present. There is a ship. It brings the Son of God. His living word for us. We open our hearts. For God's presence.

We open our hearts. For the presence of others who celebrate Christmas together with us. Though this year not in the church as a shared place, but each in their own home. And yet, we open our hearts to each other and also to ourselves.

And so, this song strengthens us. It is food for our path ahead individually and as a community. And it is also a

foretaste of the joy and peace that will await us in the port at the end of our life journey.

Amen.