Twenty-Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

          Most people are familiar with the Serenity Prayer. Originally written by the Protestant theologian Reinhold Niebuhr, the prayer was popularized by Alcoholics Anonymous and related twelve-step programs. The version that most people are familiar with states, “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.”

          That prayer has been on my mind a lot in recent weeks, because there is a lot right now that I cannot change. I can’t change the fact that there is a global pandemic. I can’t change the fact that I tested positive for COVID. I can’t change the fact that I am confined to my room. I can’t change the fact that our country is still suffering from the legacy of racism. But I often struggle to accept those things with serenity. I can get very worked up about all kinds of things that I cannot change. St. Paul tells the Philippians in the second reading today, “Have no anxiety at all.” I don’t know about you all, but I have felt a lot of anxiety recently. How can St. Paul tell the Philippians to have no anxiety at all?

          St. Paul was not a naïve optimist. He is writing this letter from prison. I had to laugh because when I was preparing for this homily I was refreshing my memory about when the Letter to the Philippians was written. Basically, it is clear that Paul is writing from prison, but scholars debate which imprisonment it was. That made me chuckle. St. Paul was imprisoned so many times that even though we know that he wrote this letter from prison, we don’t know for certain when it was written. And yet, despite that, St. Paul tells the Philippians, “Have no anxiety at all.”

          St. Paul recognized what Reinhold Niebuhr would express centuries later in the Serenity Prayer, that part of the life of faith is accepting with serenity the things I cannot change. This doesn’t mean that those things are good or okay. St. Paul didn’t say that he liked being imprisoned. I don’t like the fact that there is a pandemic or that I am confined to my room. We certainly shouldn’t like the fact that our nation is still struggling with the ongoing legacy of racism. But being anxious about those things won’t change them.

St. Paul was in prison. Whether he was anxious or at peace would not change that fact. He could rebel against it. He could rave and rant about how unfair it was. He could spend all day worrying about what was going to happen to him. But all of that anxiety wouldn’t do anything to change the fact that he was in prison. Likewise, I can get all anxious and worked up about being in isolation. I can spend hours worrying about what is going to happen. I can be mad that even though I tried taking all the right precautions I still got sick. But none of that will change the fact that I am in isolation.

“Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” St. Paul is in prison, yet he speaks of peace. And he tells us how we can have peace as well. First, he says, have no anxiety. Again, this isn’t denying reality. Rather, it is the recognition that all our anxiety doesn’t make anything better.

Second, St. Paul says “In everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God.” There are a lot of things that I cannot change, but there is nothing that God cannot change. Often, my anxiety comes from an inflated sense of my own importance. I worry about things as though I had the ability and the responsibility of changing them. Instead, we should acknowledge that there are many things that we cannot change, and rather than being gripped by anxiety, we should bring those things to the One who can change them. And notice what St. Paul says: “By prayer and petition, with thanksgiving.” Even though he is in prison, St. Paul is encouraging the Philippians to be thankful. One of the problems with anxiety is that it often causes us to act as though absolutely everything is wrong. We forget that, even in the mist of difficulties, we have much to be thankful for. St. Paul says that these two things: not having anxiety, and bringing all our petitions to God with thanksgiving, are the key to the peace which surpasses understanding.

 I should make it clear that there is a difference between not having anxiety and not caring. We should care about people being sick. We should care about injustice in our society. As the Serenity Prayer states, we should ask for both the serenity to accept the things we cannot change and the courage to change the things we can. We are not supposed to be apathetic. In our second reading, after telling the Philippians to not have any anxiety at all, he then tells them, “Keep on doing what you have learned and received and heard and seen in me.” They aren’t supposed to just sit back and do nothing; they have work to do. Jesus in the Gospel today speaks of the punishment of those who do not bear fruit.

One of the problems with anxiety is that we can spend a lot of time and energy worrying about things we cannot change rather than focusing on doing the work that God calls us to do. I can spend all day watching the news and getting worked up about everything that is wrong in the world, but that does nothing to carrying out the work that God has given me to do. St. Paul could have spent all day worrying about his imprisonment, but instead he put that time and energy into carrying out his mission and writing to the churches.

If you have been struggling with anxiety recently, as I know many people have, I invite you to spend some time prayerfully reflecting on the second reading from today. Like St. Paul, may we have no anxiety, but bring our prayers to God with thanksgiving and focus on doing the work that He gives to each of us.