The Lord is Near

Listen to Saint Paul. I hear a Paul in this morning’s reading that I don’t often hear. Remember that Paul is writing from prison to a church he founded. Think about what that means. He brought the Gospel to this group of people. He brought them to awareness of the love and the presence of Christ with them. This is the same Paul who spoke in last week’s reading about how everything in his life appeared as rubbish when compared to being found by Christ. Paul gave that same gift of being found by Christ to a group of people in Philippi. And now, when he is in prison and unsure of his own fate he writes: “My brothers and sisters whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm in the Lord in this way, my beloved.” Tender affection, pastoral care, are not the first characteristics of Paul I usually think of, but they are here in the closing verses of Philippians.

“Rejoice,” he says. “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice…. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything.” The Lord is near. This is the translation we heard today, the New Revised Standard. The King James translation was, “Be careful for nothing.” Do not be full of care, or burdened by care, for any thing. The Revised Standard Version translated Paul’s words, “Have no anxiety about anything.” Have no anxiety. The Lord is at hand.

Do not be anxious or full of care. Do not worry. The Lord is near. The Lord is at hand. When Paul wrote those words, did he mean that the second coming of Christ was literally near in terms of weeks or perhaps months or just a few years in the future? He certainly believed that. But remember, Paul also knew the physical nearness of the risen Christ with him, the risen Christ who found Paul on the road to Damascus and who abided near. The Lord is near. Near in time. Near in space. Near. Near to you, my brothers and sisters whom I love. The Lord is at hand, close enough for you to touch, my beloved in Philippi.

Do not be anxious or worry-full. Rejoice. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. The Lord is near.

In one of the many sidewalk conversations I’ve had this past week, one woman said she thought it was a time right now in the world to be reading the Book of Revelation. I said, no, I didn’t think so. I wish I had added that this is a time to read St. Paul. Maybe Philippians in particular. And if you are looking for some piece of Scripture to hang on to right now, try Philippians.

These are anxious times for many, many people. And even if you weren’t feeling anxious on your own, anxiety and worry are contagious. We catch them from other people, whether we want to or not. Bishop Lee has written a pastoral letter to the diocese this week addressing the financial news that is saturating our awareness. One of the points he makes is that the world of instant communication in which we live exaggerates worry and anxiety. The issues are certainly real, but the speed with which news now spreads exaggerates or artificially intensifies our reaction to that news. In a world of Blackberries, even the most substantive of news stories takes on a life of its own more like gossip than news.

When Abagail Nelson from ERD (with a Master’s from the London School of Economics) was here, I joked in the adult form that I took one day of Economics 101 in college and immediately decided that I could fulfill my social science distribution requirement in some other way. I do not know in the longer term how the current financial instability will affect me or this parish or society or the already marginalized. Trying to look ahead to times and places that are not immediately at hand, I do not know what will happen. For that matter, I do not know how the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan will turn out, or when the effects of our environmental degradation will mar my world. I do not know whether or not a serious illness will strike me or someone I love tomorrow or the next day. I do know that, with one possible exception, the Dow Jones has had absolutely no actual tangible effect on my life this week. No effect on the course or activities of my life. I’ll come back to the exception, because it is actually positive. But I have lived this week just like any other week. So for now, let’s all take a deep breath in the midst of the news deluge, and look again at this morning’s collect.

“Lord, we pray that your grace may always precede and follow us.” Precede and follow us, surround us. The Lord is near, near to us, my brothers and sisters at St. John’s. The Lord is near at hand. We are surrounded, enveloped, embraced by God’s grace. Control, certainty are always illusions, but God’s grace is always near. Paul, writing from prison, uncertain literally what the next day would bring, not knowing whether his sentence would be freedom or prison or death… his own life in the hands of powerful pagans who felt threatened and confused by Christianity… from that place of overwhelming personal powerlessness and uncertainty Paul, surrounded by God’s grace, wrote: “The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, my beloved. The Lord is near. Rejoice in the Lord.”

The one thing that has been exceptional for me this week—out of the ordinary—is the number of “sidewalk” conversations I’ve had. More than usual. I know from our discussions in EFM this week that at least a few of you have had the same experience. People seem to crave conversation more than usual these days. They are hungry for connection. It doesn’t seem to matter too much what the conversation is as long as it is shared, a human connection. I was loading groceries in my car and a man sitting waiting in an adjacent car spoke to me with an ironic comment on the election and then seemed to cling to that brief opportunity for conversation. He just wanted to talk. And then there was the woman in the elevator who was tired of sitting. (Do you usually talk to strangers in an elevator?) She just wanted to connect to another person. And all of my fellow dog walkers on the sidewalks of Flossmoor… casual hellos have changed into conversations that linger. Including the conversation about Revelation. These are all “normal” people. What is new is the yearning for connection.

The collect appointed for today is short. In its entirety, we pray, “Lord, we pray that your grace may always precede and follow us, that we may continually be given to good works…” and then the closing doxology. As people for whom the Lord is near, as people embraced and surrounded by God’s grace, we have the potential to do good works. Paul encourages the Philippians to good works. “Let your gentleness be known to everyone…” he says, among other things. Other translations are a bit different. “Let your moderation be known,” says the King James. Or the Revised Standard speaks of forbearance. Evidently the Greek word implies fair-mindedness, a willingness to give and take. With one another. Gentleness, forbearance, moderation… none of those personal qualities have any meaning for an individual in isolation. They are all about ways of being with one another, qualities of the give and take between fellow human beings. Let your gentleness be known to everyone, Paul says. Engage one another. I love the phrase “engage in conversation.” Conversation involves engagement. This is at least part of the good work we are able to do. Making gentle connections with others is the Lord’s work. To offer fair-minded companionship to another person is a gift of grace.

Jumping from Paul to a more modern pastor… I guess the generations that knew Fred Rogers are passing, but most of you will know that the whole context for Mr. Rogers’ television ministry was the neighborhood. The neighborhood. A place where people engaged one another as neighbors.

That is a Christian voice. A voice that says, I know you need a neighbor, and I’ve always wanted a neighbor just like you. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. We are people enveloped by God’s grace. We can tap into that reservoir of grace that surrounds us and share it with people who need a neighbor. We Christians know how to be neighbors, how to connect with one another in gentle conversation. We practice it all the time when we gather in worship, in fellowship. We understand community. We do community. We as Christians have skills and resources the world needs right now.

We do the Lord’s work when we offer to be a neighbor to someone. We do good work when we engage in conversation with a stranger. We follow St. Paul when we show gentleness and forbearance to others. And, whenever we do these things, by our actions, by our care, by our presence, we say to others in the world around us: “Do not be anxious. The Lord is near.”