Last Saturday, I had the joy of celebrating my son’s wedding—a day overflowing with love, laughter, and also a quiet sadness, marked by the empty chair where my late husband, a much-loved Dad, would have been seated. It was one of those moments where joy and grief sit side by side, each making space for the other.

At the reception there was an old cart filled with sweets, a kind of pick‑and‑mix. There was something delightful about it: so many choices, each person drawn to their favourites. My own favourite, a dark chocolate ginger wasn’t there. And yet, there were many others I enjoyed.

It set me thinking, if we treated the Bible like that sweet cart, what would we choose? Do we each have favourite passages words we return to because they comfort us, steady us, reassure us? For some it might be Psalm 23. For others, John 3:16. For me, often, it is that promise in Philippians chapter 4: “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding.”

June is Bible Month, and this year we turn to Philippians. It is a short letter just four chapters but full of richness. It one of the 66 books in the Bible, written over some 1,500 years, by many voices and in different contexts. And yet, somehow, it speaks with a unity that draws us again to God’s love, revealed fully in Jesus Christ.

For me, it wasn’t until 2016 that I first committed to reading the whole Bible. Since then, I’ve returned to it year by year not out of duty, but because it continues to draw me into the wonder of who God is. We meet God working through real people, with all their strengths and failings. And in that honesty, we glimpse both the authenticity of Scripture and the depth of God’s love: a love that calls us, as Micah says, to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God.

Philippians is a letter written by Paul in prison, to a church he loved deeply. He writes to thank them, to encourage them, and to strengthen them. And what is perhaps most striking is the thread that runs throughout, joy. Not joy rooted in comfort or ease but joy in participation in God’s work.

Paul is in chains, yet his focus is not on his circumstances but on Christ.
He rejoices that the gospel is being proclaimed. He rejoices in his partnership with the Philippians. He trusts that “he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion (1:6).” This is a harvest of joy, a joy that can grow even in difficulty.

So let us pause for a moment. Where have we seen this kind of joy? Perhaps in someone who lives their faith quietly but faithfully. Perhaps in a person who continues to love, even when it is costly. The joy Paul speaks of is not superficial happiness; it is something deeper, rooted in grace, shaped by love, sustained by Christ.

Paul also speaks of love growing in knowledge and depth of insight. And that kind of love is not always easy. It may include loving fellow Christians we struggle with. Is there someone God might be inviting you to reach out to with grace, patience, or forgiveness today?

And then there is Paul’s extraordinary perspective on suffering: “For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain (1:21).” These are not easy words. They are words of deep trust, trust that Christ is present, even in uncertainty, even in hardship.

Returning to our pick‑and‑mix image, it can be tempting to choose only the sweet, familiar verses, the ones that comfort us and leave the more challenging ones behind. But Philippians invites us to take the whole letter, to receive its fullness: joy and struggle, love and growth, perseverance and hope.

So, what might we take from this? First, read the whole letter of Philippians. Let it speak in its fullness. Allow joy to grow, not from circumstances, but from your participation in God’s work. Ask God to deepen your love, especially where it is most difficult. And trust that God is at work in you, and in others, bringing that good work to completion. Our prayer then becomes that we do not simply pick what is easy, but receive the fullness of God’s Word, and in doing so, grow ever deeper in faith, hope, and love. Amen.