Life within the church is amazing. It often feels like a constant juggling act, or maybe a balancing act, of so many things. For example, currently I am working on items for worship in the coming week, meeting with people over their current concerns, and responding to the never-ending flurry of emails. I am also thinking about the upcoming stewardship campaign, and the work of nominating new officers for the coming years, and then there is Advent and Christmas too. This is the work of the rhythm of the year, one that is not unfamiliar to many. Maybe “tension” is a good word for it, as we try to hold all of this together.

I cannot help feel this tension when I read the call in Philippians to “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.” On the one hand, this is a stunningly beautiful reminder to remember the goodness of God, as the Lord is near. On the other hand, I find that it is really hard to always rejoice, especially when so much pulls at me to complain.

There is the frustration of traffic and road construction when I am in a hurry on my way to a meeting or a visit. There is the frustration of not having enough volunteers at the church, of watching my to-do pile grow instead of shrink. There is the frustration that so much is beyond my ability to control. And yet the call is to “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.”

It is the time of year when we are making budget preparations for the year ahead and wrestling with what to do about potential shortfalls. Are the shortfalls real or imagined? It doesn’t matter, we still stress over them. It is the time of year when we know that the holiday season is right around the corner, so that means heightened expectations and heightened emotions are on the way. It is the time of year when I realize yet again that my calendar is too full. And yet the call is to “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.”

A beloved member has a new cancer diagnosis. Another is dealing with dementia, and another is dealing with the challenges of aging parents. And this is just this week. And these are the pains and the hurts we know about, all while knowing full well there are many more silent aches in the pews each Sunday. I’m sad to know there is only so much I can do, or that we can do, to help. And yet the call is to “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.”

In these verses, Philippians also helps us to remember that the peace of God will guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. I cannot help but think that this is such great news, because my heart and mind all too often need protection — from stress and worry, from bitterness and resentment, from anger and despair. There is the tension again — I have these concerns, but I also have the assurance of being guarded by the peace of Christ. I am not always sure I know what that means, but I am glad that I have it.

When we share the Peace of Christ in worship it is after the Prayer of Confession and the Declaration of Forgiveness. It is a sign of healing and reconciliation. It shows us that things can be good again. It is a reminder of Christ’s peace in our lives. And there is tension with it too. It is sometimes awkward, sometimes risky if you are a visitor or a deep introvert. At the same time, it is often a place when we see the most smiles and joy among the gathered body of Christ.

So, maybe there is great truth for us in this tension. For in understanding the frustrations, the limitations, the worries, and the sadness of life, Philippians helps reframe it for me to see that all of this is held together under the loving umbrella of the peace that Jesus gives us. In all of the things that are out of my control and cause me angst, the peace of Christ is there, for the Lord is near. When I think about it like that, I am somewhat surprised to find that I actually can “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say Rejoice.” I hope that you do too.