+In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
“I entreat Euodia and I entreat Syntyche to agree in the Lord. And I ask you also, true yokefellow, help these women.” We do not know the nature of the disagreement between Euodia and Syntyche, only that it was significant and harmful enough to the church in Philippi that word had reached Paul in prison and he felt the need to address it. It is also likely that the other person Paul mentioned here, Clement, was his deputy, left in charge of the congregation in his absence, that he was unable to effect reconciliation, and that he had to appeal to the bishop, as it were, to straighten the parish out. We don’t know for certain, but I strongly suspect that this is the same Clement who would go on to take up Paul’s letter writing campaign after the apostle’s martyrdom—writing two more epistles to those poorly behaved Corinthians—and who would eventually become Peter’s successor as bishop of Rome. Sometimes church fights are so bad that even a future pope doesn’t know how to sort them out by himself!
But notice how, after addressing the issue (essentially telling these two women to “straighten up and fly right” and calling on the whole community to help), Paul’s tone becomes much gentler. Don’t be anxious. The Lord is near. God’s peace will keep your hearts and minds. Contemplate all that is pure and lovely. The apostle was in the midst of his second long period of imprisonment in Rome, and while he would have a bit more time as a free man before he received his heavenly reward, he never made it back to Philippi. No doubt he longed to, but the nature of his ministry would not allow it. So in an important sense, this was his farewell letter to that congregation. He wanted to give them some parting words which were gentle and hopeful. He would not see them again, yet his heart remained forever connected to this community with whom he had shared the Good News of Christ Jesus and with whom he had shared the burden he had taken on in serving the Gospel.
I can relate to Paul this morning, though that is always a dangerous thing to say for all sorts of reasons! Unlike him, I will not even be able to dispatch an epistle in my absence—both because I don’t have apostolic authority as he did (I’ve always just been a simple country parson, even if I put on airs of some more elevated status sometimes), and because we have this unfortunate but necessary modern invention called “boundaries.” Those are sometimes a necessary evil, as they are for us moving forward from today.
But just as Paul and the Philippians could in the Apostle’s physical absence still maintain the spiritual bond forged as fellow-laborers through prayer and the mystical union effected by the Most Holy Sacrament across time and space, so too will the sacred friendship which we have established together over these last ten years be maintained in that nobler way. And I like to believe that book of life which Paul mentions, our names are written near each others’.
We are all entering a period in which the path ahead is somewhat shrouded. This can lead to anxiety, the antidote to which is greater trust in God’s Providence which cannot disappoint. That’s why I dug out that hymn from The Hymnal, 1940 which we just sang. Also, full disclosure, I chose the hymn because I personally love it. (This is the last time you have to hear me grouse about things that were better about old hymnals and old prayerbooks. You may decide to call a modernist to be your next Rector, so I’ve got to slip it in there! There are some treasures in the old hymnal that should have been carried forward, and “Lead Kindly, Light” is among them.)
Newman wrote those words after struggling with great impatience. He had become ill in Italy and missed his boat back to England. He wanted desperately to get on with his work, and whatever God’s plan was for him, it interfered with Newman’s own plans for himself. Once again, I can relate. Even more dangerous than relating to St. Paul is relating to John Henry Newman, particularly for someone of my churchmanship. (If you know, you know.) But I suspect we can all relate to Newman on this front. And his prayer in those moments must be ours. “Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see the distant scene; one step enough for me.” Remember that during the search for my successor here, even as I must remember it in the coming days and months.
God will lead you on, and the plans he has for you in this parish, in this community and the various communities in which you live, in your homes, in your hearts are for joy and peace. Paul said as much to the Philippians in today’s Epistle, and it’s just as true for you. Even amid the encircling gloom, when you feel far from home, he has you by the hand and you need only take the next step.
“Finally, [brothers and sisters] whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things … and the God of peace will be with you.”
+In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.