A sermon for the Third Sunday of Advent: Gaudete (Rejoice) Sunday, December 17, 2023. The scripture readings are Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11, Psalm 126, 1 Thessalonians 5:16-24, and John 1:6-8,19-28.
This week, the theme of joy runs through our worship. Joy appears in our readings and music, some churches use rose-colored vestments today, in our Advent wreath, the rose colored candle is lit today. These all point to the significance of this Third Sunday of Advent, a day when the traditional entry hymn of the church has sung, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice.”
These words from Paul’s Letter to the Philippians echo through our worship. In today’s first reading, Isaiah brings joy to a people in exile who are longing to go home. “He has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed,” Isaiah says. “To bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; to provide for those who mourn in Zion—to give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faith spirit.”
There is joy from Isaiah, joy from the psalm that fills our mouths with laughter, and there is joy in St. Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians. But in the Gospel, joy is transformed into light. John explains that his job is to point to the light, to testify to the light, to bear witness. For John, this means that he helps people look to Jesus. And the invitation of today’s Gospel is that we might learn to do the same, that is, to bear witness to the light.
To bear witness to the love of God in Jesus Christ. To bear witness to the possibility of joy.
It is a Sunday of rejoicing, and a Sunday for remembering our task of sharing this joy with the world.
In our own day, and especially in our culture, it’s far easier to cozy up in the dark, to criticize and worry, and only to look forward with a sense of doom and gloom. If we wanted, we could use particular scriptures to encourage that feeling. We prepare for disaster pretty well. Perhaps it’s built into us. We know what it is to prepare with a sense of foreboding—for rough times economically. When someone we love is sick, we try to prepare emotionally. We try to prepare for continued global warming, continued wars abroad and the political wars to come. We can live much of our lives preparing for all sorts of calamities and disasters.
But John reminds us that, as Christians, we are also called to help prepare the way for joy. We are called upon to bear witness to the one is absolute light, who is absolute love, who is absolute God.
Many of you know that before joining the Episcopal Church, I was a Presbyterian. One of the very best pieces of the Reformed tradition is the opening of the Westminster Shorter Catechism. The first question asks, “What is the chief end of man?” In other words, why are we here? What are we made for? I love the answer, the answer is simply this: “Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy him for ever.” To glorify God and to enjoy God for ever. There is joy in God.
We are called to the difficult work of bearing witness to the joy of God. Even in the midst of a dangerous and sometimes despondent world, we are called to bear witness to the joy possible in the life of God. We are called to shine in a world of darkness, with some aspect of the light of Christ we know, because it burns in us.
The 20th century priest and writer Henri Nouwen talked about the difference between happiness and joy. He suggests that while happiness often depends on external, outward conditions, joy is “the experience of knowing that you are unconditionally loved and that nothing — sickness, failure, emotional distress, oppression, war, or even death — can take that love away.” (Here and Now: Living in the Spirit, 1994.)
Happiness is a gift and something I hope for everyone, but joy is a quality that runs deeper and grows with the Spirit of God. Isaiah could weep for the people’s sins and have joy in God’s goodness all at the same time. The psalmist could weep all night, but even through tears, knew that morning would come – one day, some day. The Blessed Virgin Mary could enjoy every moment with her son and savior, while sensing all the while a sadness that would result in his death on the cross.
December 17, this year happens to be the Third Sunday of Advent, but if it were a weekday, in the Church of England’s calendar, it is also the day for commemorating a woman named Eglantine Jebb. Born in 1876, Eglantine worked on behalf of a number of progressive causes, but especially felt called to action after World War I, when she began raising money on behalf of German and Austrian children, hurt by the war’s aftermath and an Allied blockade. Though she was arrested for going against the wishes of the British government, she persisted and overcame the objections. With her sister, Eglantine founded Save the Children, the organization that put forth a Declaration of the Rights of the Child, approved by the League of Nations and later adopted by the United Nations. The organization has flourished and last year, Save the Children reached more than 157 million children in 120 countries. And yes, right now, Save the Children is trying to save the children in Gaza and Israel.
In the face of incredible darkness, Eglantine Jebb prepared for JOY. She prepared for joy to break into the lives of millions of children and all those along the way whose lives are enriched and magnified in the process. But what’s especially interesting (to me) about Eglantine Jebb is that she was not always joyous, herself.
She suffered from a thyroid condition, underwent three surgeries, and died at the age of 52. She loved writing but failed at publishing any of her novels. She was often disappointed in love, she seemed to suffer from depression, and she did not even find herself especially comfortable with children. But she prepared the way.
On this day of joy, and in this season of joy, may the light of Christ burn brilliantly in us and through us. And may we share the joy of Christ’s birth with the world.
In the name of the Father and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.