“As for the rest, my brethren, rejoice in the Lord” (Philippians 3:1)
The word rejoice comes to the ear of my mind sung in the prayer form called “Akathist.” I conjure up many times in a variety of churches I was blessed to share the joyful tribute of praise to Sweetest Jesus, to the Mother of God, to the Holy Trinity, or to one of the saints. A common phrase: “Rejoice, O our joy,” is an invitation to remind ourselves of all the reasons we have to celebrate life and glorify those who act as catalysts to our euphoria, praising the Lord and His special ones, regardless of the circumstances in which we find ourselves.
Rejoice that we are blessed with the honor to suffer in some ways for the glory of Christ Jesus our Savior and Redeemer, bearing our crosses in the same way that He bore His, albeit not any way as intensely.
Rejoice because we are “in the Lord,” and the Lord is in us. To realize that as I stand or kneel in prayer, He is there everywhere listening to my plea. “Lo, I am with you always,” and as long as I bear that truth in mind, I shall never despair. People who love me may forsake me; they may even turn on me and despise me, but my sweetest Lord Jesus will never abandon me. When I slip into the state of depression and feel that nothing matters, the dark thoughts overwhelm me and everybody has turned against me—that nothing has meaning anymore—the One who said, “I call you friend,” will be closer to me than I can imagine, and He will be there “even until the end of the age.” Knowing that, how can I not but rejoice?
As the above explains, the Akathist service is therapeutic. It is filled with optimism. It is the Church’s form of mental healing. Better than the chemicals used in modern pharmacology to alter a patient’s mental condition—pills such as Prozac, with sometimes questionable side effects—we chant our songs of joy and optimism to uplift us all. To gather as the Church is to bare our anguish and pray to our Lord that every one of us with conditions of sadness, grief or despair will be healed and made whole. We call upon the Theotokos and Mother of God, a special saint or an angel, or upon Christ Jesus Himself to fill us with the joy we already have and make it even more glorious. To mother Mary we ask a favor: “Cover us with your protective veil [omophorion].” Treat us as your spiritual children; comfort us as you would a weeping child out of sorts with life and even with himself. Let the warmth of your great compassion encompass us with the comfort of protection. Let us imbibe your great joy to augment our weariness and lift up our spirits to celebrate life, even death, and the coming Kingdom of Heaven.
What if one is not able to rejoice? We think of the great judgment (Matthew 25) where the sheep and goats are sent in different directions. Some say it’s unfair. Why should anyone be condemned to Hades? And yet the image of the Kingdom of Heaven in the message of Jesus Christ is that of a banquet feast, or a wedding feast given by the heavenly Father. Some came just to gorge themselves from the table but not to take part in the celebration [they had no wedding garment], and so they were bound and tossed out. They either couldn’t or wouldn’t celebrate. They couldn’t even fake happiness, even if they had tried. What is the lesson, if not that we are invited to rejoice over every experience that comes to us, even the sad, hurtful and difficult ones, because every experience has the opportunity to make a change in the way we look at life. And we know that the Lord of life who gave us life intends for us to profit from having lived. To do so we must thank the Lord for everything. But it takes grace and love to do so.