Earlier this week, the Women of Faith group that meets on Wednesday mornings did some contemplative reading of today’s lectionary, using a practice some of you are likely familiar with – lectio divina, or holy reading. Lectio divina is a way to read through a text from a contemplative place, to pray your way through a text, to listen, attune oneself a little more deeply to a text. You can practice lectio divina in a small group, a large group, or by yourself.
On Wednesday, we chose the Epistle – this Sunday’s excerpt from Paul’s letter to the church in Philippi – for our practice. In lectio divina, we read through the text several times aloud, usually in different voices, and each time, we listen for something. In the first reading, we listen for a word or phrase that strikes us, resonates with us, or makes us question. In the second reading, we listen for a way that the text connects with our present moment – how we relate to the text through our own experience in the world right now. And in the third reading, we listen for an invitation. What is the Holy Spirit speaking to us through this passage? What is God inviting us to do, or to pray, or to be?
So I’d like to invite you into a holy reading of the Epistle, one of Paul’s many letters to the churches he has founded, a church that was experiencing conflict between two of its members – Euodia and Syntyche. It’s a letter that is not unlike a letter – or maybe an e mail – a 21st-century pastor or priest might write to their congregation, perhaps encouraging them to please work together, and forgive one another, and remember we are all in this together. If you’re angry with someone, sit down and talk things out. Seek reconciliation with each other. If you’ve done something wrong, ask forgiveness. If someone else is in your pew, let them sit there, as Father AJ reminded us last week. Please help wash the dishes after potluck dinners. Feed the hungry. Visit the sick. Take time for the lonely.
Let’s hear the second part of Paul’s words again:
Listen for a word or phrase that stands out to you.
Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.
What word or phrase stood out for you, called you, resonated or raised questions with you?
On Wednesday, our small group found that we were drawn to different parts of the letter. Some of us heard the “Rejoice.” The word that came to me was “again” – Paul says to his congregation, Rejoice, and then he emphasizes the importance of joy – Again, I say rejoice.
There’s so much in this passage that speaks to us in word or phrase: The comfort of hearing that the Lord is near. The encouragement to keep on doing the things that you have learned. And those beautiful words that have become part of our liturgies, part of our blessings – the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding – reminding us of the profound beauty of mystery.
And then one of us noticed a word I hadn’t even thought about, right there in the second to last sentence – it’s the word “think.” Whatever is pure, whatever is commendable and worthy of praise – think about these things. Not just do these things, not just act, but think – turn your heart and soul toward what is just, what is good, what is of God, what is nourishing and acknowledges the image of God in everyone around us. If we turn our thoughts to those things, it turns us away from the things which are not of God. The “fixing of the heart upon that which is unchangeable and eternal,” as Quaker Caroline Stephen wrote in 1890[1].
Let’s listen again:
Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Our second contemplative question:
How does this text resonate with our current moment?
Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.
In times when there is so much anger, so much fear, so much conflict – when Facebook is full of hate and loud voices and the news is full of violence and deportations and wars on the other side of the world, how can we move through it? How can we get through our days without feeling helpless?
United Methodist pastors Ginger Gaines-Cirelli and Jim Harnish point out that “theologian Karl Barth once called joy a ‘continual defiant “Nevertheless”.’”[2] Barth, who was doing theology and protesting Nazi racism years before the beginning of World War II, put forward the idea that Joy can stand up to hate, that Joy can be a counterweight to injustice.
Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.
And our third contemplative question:
What is the invitation we hear in this text?
If we can rejoice – if we can practice joy, which is a form of love, can we turn the world around? If we fix our minds on what is just, can we have an impact on injustice in the world?
If we turn our minds to something better, if we change our interior lives, is it possible to change our exterior lives? If we think about what is good, what is pure, what is of God – if that thinking then inspires doing – can we shift the world’s attention and actions away from what is hurtful, unjust, impure, dishonorable?
And how do we move our minds to what is pure, and just, and good when the news and our public discourse is so discouraging?
We can start by looking at Paul’s letter itself, and where it came from. Because Paul wrote this letter, this encouraging, hopeful letter, not from a comfortable chair or a desk in his study, but from a cell in a Roman prison prison, not knowing if any hour would be his last, if he might be at any moment be pulled out of this cell to become a victim of public execution, for that was the practice of the Roman justice system. Jesus, and, yes, eventually Paul, became victims of that spectacle.
And despite the threat of a public death dealt by an oppressive empire, Paul didn’t stop teaching, didn’t stop encouraging his congregations to work together for good, to seek unity and make peace even in the middle of division and conflict. Paul, in prison, said, Rejoice! – and then he repeated it – Again I say, Rejoice! Paul, in prison, turned his mind and heart to things good and just and honorable, despite the fear of his present moment.
This passage is full of invitation, full of the Spirit encouraging us to press on, to not give up hope, to focus on what is right, and maybe in doing so, to influence those around us in the world.
What is the invitation you hear in Paul’s letter to the Church?
What is the letter you would write the world?
What goodness and justice and purity and beauty can we focus on and encourage, instead of conflict and unkindness? Perhaps it is making music like what we heard last night in this space, musicians creating something beautiful to support our neighbors who are at risk of being sent away from their homes[3]. Perhaps it is cooking at noon lunch. Perhaps it is making a meal for someone who is sick, or taking Communion to someone who is homebound, or subbing for Sunday School or … washing dishes! … or perhaps it is prayer, reconnecting with God in church, or at home, or at Morning Prayer in the chapel, or in a small group here at Trinity – perhaps it is speaking up for the vulnerable – perhaps it is seeking and listening for where and how we can make a difference in a world that seems dark at times. We can shine light.
Amen.
[1] https://dailyquaker.com/2026/10/fix-your-heart-upon-that-which-is-eternal/
[2] https://jimharnish.org/2015/12/17/desperate-hope-defiant-joy
[3] https://www.newsleader.com/story/news/local/2026/10/09/music-for-good-concert-in-staunton-to-benefit-familia-fund/92151572007
