Pixar Studios’ Inside Out (2015), as we’ve seen, gives us a fictional and creatively imagined peek into the emotional struggles of a distressed 11-year-old. Five core emotions live in that internal world: Joy, Sadness, Anger, Fear, and Disgust. The idea is based on Paul Ekman’s theory that these five represent universal emotions found across all cultures. Emotion researchers, not surprisingly, debate whether Ekman is correct. But in the end, it doesn’t matter to the moral force of the story, which reminds us that true joy is found by making a place for sadness and other negative emotions.

It’s a helpful lesson for our understanding of biblical joy as well. As we’ve seen repeatedly in the Psalms, praise doesn’t exclude lament, and worship doesn’t exclude complaint. Similarly, Christian joy cannot be manufactured by stifling distress. Churches should be places where suffering is understood and met with gentleness and compassion. But they should also be places of hope, where we help one another remember that “The Lord is near” (Phil 4:5b, NRSVUE).

When, therefore, Paul says, “Rejoice in the Lord always” (Phil 4:4a), he isn’t saying, “No matter what you’re feeling, be sure to paste a smile on it.” He’s reminding the persecuted Philippians that joy is their destiny, and they shouldn’t let their present troubles cause them to lose their eternal perspective. It’s important to keep that in mind as we read what Paul says next:

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. (Phil 4:6)

Here, I imagine Inside Out‘s ever ebullient Joy telling her worry-wart colleague Fear not to fret. Indeed, maybe you’ve had it happen to you: you admit to someone that you’re anxious about something, and the person reflexively tells you not to worry. Perhaps they added what were supposed to be words of encouragement: “It’s all going to be fine, I promise.” They may even have layered some spiritual language on top — “God’s in control!” — or cited a text like Jeremiah 29:11 or Romans 8:28.

Did it work? Maybe. But you may also have received the unspoken message that it wasn’t socially permissible, and perhaps not even Christian, to worry.

Is that what Paul is saying?

I don’t think so. Remember, Paul is writing as a loving friend, not scolding them. As concerned as he might have been about the tension between Euodia and Syntyche (4:2), he treats them with kid gloves, praising their ministry instead of chastising them for having a public disagreement. In such a context, “Don’t be anxious” means something more like, Friends, joy is your Christian birthright — you don’t have to be anxious!

And then he tells them what to do instead: Pray. Whatever the situation is, bring it to God in prayer. And when you go to prayer, always let your attitude be gratitude.

Gratitude for what? Does he mean we should thank God in advance for what we’re sure he’s going to do? Possibly — but only if our joy and gratitude aren’t dependent on God giving us the answer we want. Paul isn’t promoting a name-it-and-claim-it theology. When he speaks of joy and gratitude, it’s from an eschatological perspective, from a perspective that says, No matter what happens to me in this life, my eternity is secure.

Paul isn’t saying “Don’t worry” the way we might when someone else’s anxiety starts to make us a little anxious ourselves (even if we don’t recognize it). He’s telling the Philippians — and us — that when they’re anxious, they can pray. They can go to God with any and all of their concerns, and they can go with gratitude. Thinking about the things we’re thankful for, and actively thanking God for them, opens us to the bigger picture that helps put our problems in perspective.

And having that perspective helps us find peace, as Paul will suggest next.