Sunday Sermon: Some Things Are Better Left Misunderstood
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Philippians 4:6-7
“Some Things Are Better Left Misunderstood”
Summer Series: “Virtues that Keep Us Stable” PEACE
June 21, 2020
I learned a long time ago that in order to get along with others and “keep the peace,” there are certain topics that should always remain off limits. That’s because those topics tend to be so controversial that any discussion of them is more than likely to push people apart instead of bringing them close together. The two topics that come to mind, of course, are politics and religion because of how people are all over the map on their discussions of them.
I have to say that early on in my ministry I didn’t fully understood why this was the case, and to this day I can’t say that I still do. That’s because both politics and religion are things about which people are most passionate, and the latter – religion – speaks to my own sense of calling in life. But having made it this far in ministry without having offended too many people over either topic, I’ve decided that I don’t really need to understand why politics and religion should be off limits in general conversation. I just don’t need to go there so that it’s not just the case that there are some things that are better left unsaid, there also are things that are better left misunderstood.
That philosophy seemed to have been one that guided the Apostle Paul as he wrote a letter of encouragement to the church at Philippi, a church that was located in a prosperous Roman colony in the northern part of Greece. Paul had established the church in Philippi during his second missionary journey, in response to what the book of Acts describes as his “Macedonian vision” (Acts 16:6-10). Now, Paul is in prison because of how his preaching of the Gospel of Jesus Christ has violated the rules on the need to avoid both politics and religion. And when he hears how the church in Philippi has been thrown into discord over disagreements that have broken out between two women in the church, Euodia and Syntyche, he feels it necessary to demand that they resolve their differences, lest their conflict keep the rest of the church from knowing the peace of God, which, as Paul says, “passes all understanding.”
So, how does Paul propose that these two women come together and set an example that the rest of the church might follow? He invites them to pray, along with the rest of the church. “Do not be anxious about anything,” Paul writes, “but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving present your requests to God.”
There is no question but that prayer is the means by which we retain our sense of balance in a hectic, uncertain world, such as the world in which we’re living at the present time. And yet, far too often prayer is the means of last resort for so many of us. Why is that the case?
Well, let’s think about that for a moment. Might it be that for a number of us the concept of prayer is little more than holding up a laundry list before God and asking Him to do something about it? Granted, the Bible encourages us “to cast all our cares upon God” (1 Peter 5:7), but what that means is that in the process of casting those cares upon God, we are casting ourselves with them. As we cast our cares to God, we are in effect asking God not only to do something about those cares, we are also asking Him to do something in us that might change us in ways that we can’t fully comprehend.
I love the way one person put it: “Prayer may not always change things for you, but it sure will always change you for things” (Samuel Shoemaker). In other words, through prayer we recognize all that is at our disposal in the face of some stressful circumstance or situation, and as we focus on that grace (instead of the circumstance or situation) we become grateful, which is why Paul talks about presenting our prayers and petitions and requests to God “with thanksgiving.”
When I hear Paul’s counsel on prayer, I’m reminded of how writer Anne Lamott has described her own experiences of prayer, when every morning she prays, “Help me! Help me! Help me!” and every evening she prays, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” In other words, she begins the day by seeking God’s help and ends by expressing her gratitude for how God has come through by changing the things that caused her concern and by changing her in the process. And though, as she explains it, she doesn’t for one moment pretend to say that she understands how God does all of that changing, He does, and for her that’s enough. That’s enough to keep her praying (Help Thanks Wow: The Three Essential Prayers, p. 16).
This morning as you consider the sources of anxiety in your life, it very well could be that most of them stem from that fact that we can’t fully comprehend them and we certainly can’t control them. And it so often becomes the case that the less understanding we have of the challenges in life and the less control we can exert over them, the more anxiety they cause to take hold of our hearts.
But if instead of trying to understand all the sources of our anxiety and then to try to control them, what if we were to yield both them and ourselves to God? If we were to do that, how much better would life go and how much more might we be in a position to do for the cause of Christ?
Some years ago, I got the opportunity to hear Harold Koenig, who is a psychiatrist on the faculty of the Duke University School of Medicine, speak on “the Healing Power of Faith.” Koenig had spearheaded a number of studies on that topic and had come to the conference to share some of the findings. As Koenig ticked off the number of things that need to be in place for us humans to experience the healing of mind, body, and soul, he talked much about what you would have expected the Duke researchers to find: the absence of suspicion and resentment; the ability not to live in the past; the willingness not to waste time or energy fighting conditions you cannot change; refusing to indulge in pity when life hands you a raw deal. All of those are important in order to experience that elusive butterfly called “peace of mind,” but the one consideration that is greater than them all, Koenig said, was the ability to find something bigger than yourself to believe in. Having a source of faith outside of yourself, something much wiser and more capable than you are, is the key to facing our challenges and not being anxious about them in the least.
In fact, that’s why as you read farther in this fourth chapter, you come to what is perhaps the most familiar passage of all in the book of Philippians, Philippians 4:13: “I can do all things through him (through Christ) who gives me strength.”
How does Christ do that? I don’t fully know. And neither do you. Neither does anyone. And it doesn’t matter that we don’t. He just does it when we trust ourselves to Him.
Because some things, you see, are better left misunderstood. Otherwise, we’d just be looking for ways to manage things in our own power. It is the peace of God that transcends all understanding, and when Jesus is with you to stand guard over your heart and over your mind, then you can be certain that all will be well. You can be certain that you can face every challenge and threat with nothing less than God’s full and perfect peace.