The Theological Basis of Joy 114

That Paul’s promoting of joy in the Philippian Christians is practicable and, indeed, makes good sense in the first place is because God’s work of redemption—the death and resurrection of God’s Christ, the coming of the Spirit, and the certainty of the parousia—has meant that new terms of engagement with the world are now available. For the believer, it is no longer only visible, corporeal manifestations of reality that feed his consciousness and govern his sense of existence; instead, his metaphysical horizon is to be definitively reshaped by eschatological reality. This has, as its corollary, a profound effect on his mental and emotional engagement with the world around him. A radical reconfiguration of his sense and conception of identity, value, meaning, and purpose has taken place.

As such, to rejoice in the face of suffering is to reject any notion that one’s sense of well-being depends on one’s circumstances, for the present age no longer has the last word. Paul regards joy as being for the believer’s taking, because it is grounded in the

confident assurance that in the end all will be made right through God’s work in Christ (Phil 3.20–21; cf. 1 Cor 15.24–28). Putting it a different way: this revised hermeneutic for all of life that reads in it the possibility of joy at all times is rooted in the

transfiguration of meaning that emerges from the believer’s participation in the

christological pattern of dying and rising (Phil 3.10–11).559 The basis of Christian joy is therefore intrinsically theological; this joy simultaneously signals and celebrates the profound connection between the believer and God and his work in the world, past, present and future. For the believer, then, the experience of suffering for the sake of the gospel throws into sharp relief the painful tensions that result from a life lived both in this world and the one to come. However, joy is attainable in spite of these tensions, because the presence of such suffering is proof of—and a precursor to—eschatological salvation (Phil 1.27–30).

In the letter to the Philippians, the theological basis of the believer’s joy is made most explicit in 3.1 and 4.4, where the summons to rejoice is articulated to the fact that this joy is “in the Lord,” and similarly in 4.10, where Paul expresses much joy “in the Lord” over the Philippians’ renewed concern for him (though ἐν κυρίῳ is absent at 1.18 and 2.17–18, the verbs for “rejoicing” in these verses surely stand in this same

theological correlation). It is precisely because Christian joy has a firm theological basis that it can be called forth with imperatival force.

Closely related to the theological underpinning of joy is the emphasis on thinking and on the mind that runs through Paul’s letter. We have noted earlier the significance of the numerous appearances of verbs that relate to the disposition or activity of the mind (φρονέω, ἡγέοµαι, σκοπέω, and λογίζοµαι), the abundance of “knowledge” vocabulary, and the use of military and athletic imagery to flesh out the notion of mental tenacity. It is right thinking about Christian truth, and the possession of a mindset that reflects the character and disposition of Christ, that will help the

Philippians to overcome the suffering and trials that they are going through—and to do so with joy. Quite clearly, for Paul, there is a significant cognitive dimension to living the Christian life well.

Interestingly, the cognitive aspect of the Pauline reality-framework that makes joy possible is in some respects parallel to that of the Stoic account of affective response, but, as we shall see, at a fundamental level the two schemes are completely

different. A recapitulation of the Stoic theory is helpful at this juncture. For the Stoics, joy belongs to a select group of emotions called the eupatheiai, which are acceptable, non-culpable ways of experiencing affect. The wise person—whose perfected

rationality mirrors the universal reason that governs the cosmos, and who therefore always acts in conformity with nature and its ends—would regularly be subject to the

eupatheiai. Such a person would not be overwhelmed emotionally by any circumstance,

whether (in the eyes of the ordinary person) beneficial or baneful. This is because the wise person has redirected his capacity to perceive and ascribe value correctly through his judgements and affective responses, so that they are appropriate for a rational human being. At the heart of Stoic ethics is the doctrine that virtue alone is good, vice alone bad; everything else is an indifferent. The wise person is incapable of being emotionally impacted by anything that otherswould regard as a present evil. To be sure, like any other person, in life he encounters suffering (and other circumstances that an ordinary person would consider as bad)—but he would not count them as bad. Suffering is not for him a present evil, because vice is the only evil there is; the Stoic sage is, by definition, free of vice and its effects. He would not mistake an indifferent for genuine goods and evils, which is to say, virtue and vice.

Instead, the wise person would experience the eupatheiai on a regular basis. He would be able to experience joy often, because the perfection of reason produces virtue and the actions that are the immediate practical expression of such a state of mind— virtue and virtuous acts being the genuine goods towards which the wise person’s rational impulses are directed and in relation to which he consistently forms fully

accurate, veridical judgements. So Seneca, as we have seen, speaks of a “boundless joy” that emanates from deep within the wise man because he delights in his own inner resources (Vit. beat. 3.4, 4.4), a joy that causes one’s soul to be “happy and confident, lifted above every circumstance” (Ep. 23.3). The wise maintain a steady joy both at their virtuous condition and its practical expression, and remain unaffected by externals—the things that lie beyond their sphere of control. Stoic joy is therefore premised on a belief about the rational ordering of the world and its inhabitants.

Like the Stoics, Paul has a cognitive interest in what makes joy reasonable. In his scheme, right thinking can also produce a profound sense of joy that is able to transcend all adversity. However, Paul’s ideological framework has a totally different basis; for him, joy in grounded in a proper understanding of—and, one might add, a participation in—God’s continuing action in the world. Paul’s inaugurated eschatology speaks of a

world in which God’s perfect order is yet to be fully established: the πολίτευµα of believers is in heaven, from which they expect the arrival of Christ, who will transfigure and glorify their bodies through the same power that will subject all things to his rule (Phil 3.20–21; cf. 2.11). Therefore, though there is an already present reality that governs the lives of Christians, their orientation is one of forward anticipation, as 3.12– 14 has already made very clear,560 because the “day” is not yet here (1.6, 10; 2.16).

However, this forward-looking thrust makes present joy possible, but also precarious: there is a danger that a severe or prolonged ordeal of some sort might severely weaken, or even totally extinguish, the believer’s joy. Paul’s solution seems to be threefold. First, throughout the letter, and in different ways, he stresses the

importance of developing and maintaining a Christian mindset—one that demonstrates right thinking, maturity, and perseverance and, above all, is patterned after Christ’s. This mindset is thus to be a common mindset: one that consists in the Philippians having the same outlook on the world, on the work of God in the world, and on one’s responsibilities in light of these truths.561 Second, he himself models such a mindset for the Philippians, and shows them what Christian joy looks like, even in the presence of great adversity. Third, he calls for the corporate reinforcement of this joy, knowing that the Philippians’ faith would be buttressed by the mutual encouragement that shared joy can bring. For Paul, joy very clearly also has a social dimension—and as we shall see, this distinctive Christian sociality not only protects and promotes joy, but helps to complete it.