"Last Words"--November 29, 2019
"The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit." [Philippians 4:23]
The thing about Jesus is... he always gets the last word.
Last words, or at least the idea of "the last word," often carry along a certain bittersweetness. I think it is the unavoidable heaviness of something final--something that is ending, something that is over. "Last words" have a way of getting ingrained in our memories because of that, even if we didn't pay attention in the moment to what we said, sometimes in retrospect, we come to see a greater significance to the last thing we said to a dear loved one before they died (whether expectedly or unexpectedly), or the last thing you said on the phone to someone at the end of a watershed moment in their life. It happens with some frequency in my life as a pastor: the last time I had conversation over lunch with someone, but I didn't know at the time it was the last lunch, or the last good talk; or the last time I would get to visit at someone's house, or the last time someone in hospice care would speak words back to me. Those final exchanges have a sort of haunting power that way, even if you didn't realize they were "last words" when they were spoken.
Well, these are some last words, too. These words of Paul's as he concluded his letter to the Philippians are the last words we have of his to this congregation (and because he wrote it from prison, these could have been some of the last words the apostle wrote at all). And in that sense, Paul's friends in Philippi knew the sheer gravity of what Paul chose to end his letter with. This was not a place for a throwaway sentence like, "Oh, and by the way, bring my cloak if you come to visit," like we get in other places of the epistles. And this was not the time to tackle a narrow, specific theological or ethical question. This was a time for last words that felt like last words--words with a sense of closure, rather than a cliffhanger.
And so it is interesting to me--no, more than that: it is surprisingly hopeful--that Paul's last word also sounds like a beginning. Literally, this last sentence, "The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit," sounds an awful lot like the way Paul began this same letter, which was, "Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ," as soon as he had gotten the return address written down on his scroll. Paul ends the way he began--and the central thrust in both moments is the graceful presence of Christ with us. It's almost as if Paul is saying, "Whatever else happens with me--when I am just getting started with you all, and when I have said all I needed to say--Christ will be here with you, and will bring you his grace." It's almost like Paul is reminding his hearers (and maybe reminding himself) that Christ remains with them, independent of Paul being in the picture or not. Paul, after all, is writing from far away awaiting trial before the emperor. He doesn't get to see his friends on a screen like we do in our day when we use FaceTime or Skype or other video messaging services to talk to distant relatives and friends. It was a one-way conversation, and Paul sent his messages from hundreds of miles away. And yet, it needed to be said that Christ's presence didn't depend on Paul--Jesus could be in Philippi with the church there just as surely as he could be with Paul in Rome at the same time. And Jesus didn't need anybody's permission--neither Paul's nor the emperor's--to be with the people in Philippi, and in a hundred other places, too.
So the ending--which is also a beginning--turns out to be a reminder that through it all, Christ is with us, and with us in his characteristically grace-ful way. Whatever else happens in this day, Christ is here among us now. Whatever detours or train-wrecks happen in the day, Christ is here. Whatever times in life things didn't go the way we planned, Christ is present. Whatever times we were separated from those we held dear, Christ remained. And for whatever times in this life arise that we are afraid of what is ahead, Christ keeps speaking grace.
Maybe the Philippians especially needed to hear that.
Maybe Paul especially needed to say that.
I suspect we need it, too. Here we are at another ending-and-beginning, too, because this is the final devotion in this series that we have been calling, "See Christ Here." This brings to an end the conversation we have been having for the past twelve months, looking to see the presence of Christ in everyday moments and unexpected places, and with this writing, we are now at an end for that year's project. This is an ending, and these, then, are last words. But like Paul's to the Philippians, they are words that also make possible a new beginning and a new start.
I'll invite you now to join with me in the new week with the beginning of a whole new series, starting with Advent 2019 (which starts in December) and through the year ahead. There will be more to share come Monday, but for now, let these last words be the surprisingly hopeful promise of a new beginning as well. We are at the end of something, but there will be a new start as well. And regardless of our starts and finishes, Christ remains present--beginning, middle, and end. Christ remains with you, you wherever you are in all of your you-ness, and with me, as well. Christ remains with us, when we see it and when we don't, when we feel it and when we miss him, when we are actively working alongside of him and when he has to work in spite of us as well.
Whatever else can be said on this day of endings and beginnings, know this much is true: the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ will be with you.
And that will be enough.
Lord Jesus, be with us, through it all, and through this day.
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