Rejoice in the Lord Always
You may have noticed that we lit the rose candle in the Advent wreath today. The rose candle symbolizes joy. The third Sunday in Advent is called Gaudete Sunday, which in Latin means "rejoice." Joyful anticipation has been in the background during the first two Sundays of Advent, but now it is the dominant theme.
Thus, in St. Paul's letter to the Philippians, he enjoins them to "Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice." Rejoice in the Lord always? What if you've lost your job, or your marriage is falling apart? What if you or a loved one is ill? What about the wars we are fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan? What on earth could Paul have been thinking? Who in their right mind rejoices always?
There was an old spoof that if you can keep your head while everyone around you is losing theirs, then you obviously don't understand the situation. But here is the amazing thing. Paul wrote this letter from prison. He was imprisoned at least three and probably four times for preaching the gospel. He was beaten, and endured all kinds of hardship in prison.
And yet, he calls on the people of Philippi, and on us, to rejoice. He is obviously aware of how difficult it is to rejoice sometimes because he repeats his admonition: "Again I will say rejoice."
One of the most joyful people I have ever known was a woman named Sammie who babysat for my children when they were small. She was always smiling and cheerful-she radiated joy. And yet, her circumstances were anything but joyful. She was a single mother, raising two sons alone after two successive men abandoned her, providing no child support. She lived in one of the worst housing projects in Memphis, Tennessee, where we lived at the time. The neighborhood was full of drug dealers and shootings were a regular occurrence. Even though she worked hard, she couldn't make enough to support herself and two children, so she had to rely on public housing and food stamps. Her extended family lived out of state, and in any case, lacked the means to help her.
I did not understand how she could be so cheerful under the circumstances. But one day she told me a story that helped explain her outlook.
She was born in Western Arkansas, in a country clinic for poor people. Her parents were African Americans, sharecroppers on one of the farms in that part of the country. At birth, she weighed only 3 lbs, so the doctor just set her aside, and didn't even try to get her breathing-her chances of survival were too slim. Not only was it 1957, before some of the advances in neonatology that we have now, but she was also a poor black child without access to whatever technology was available. But her grandmother happened to be there, and when the doctor set her aside, she picked her up, and got her breathing. They carried her home in a shoebox.
As she told me this story, she said, "God really wanted me to be here. God really loves me." The story of her precarious beginning had given her an abiding awareness that God loved her. Trusting in that love, she was able to rejoice in the Lord always, regardless of her circumstances.
The truth is that each of our lives is a miracle. Even if we didn't have such a rocky beginning, we are all here because God wants us to be here. We are all here because God really loves us.
The season of Advent is about preparing for the coming of Christ. It is about remembering that our time here is short, and that we need to use it wisely, putting first things first. In the gospel lesson for today, John the Baptist reminds us to live with integrity, and love our neighbor, sharing what we have.
But preparing means above all opening our hearts more and more to God's love. John the Baptist preached about the coming messiah, but he did not know what the messiah would be like. He thought he would come in wrath, with an axe to cut down trees that fail to bear good fruit. He thought the messiah would come in judgment to separate the wheat from the chaff, and burn the chaff in an unquenchable fire.
But Christ came in gentleness and humility. The messiah came as a frail newborn, completely dependent on the people around him for survival. He came to gather the suffering, the sinful and the outcast into his arms, and help us all to reconcile with God. Christ preferred to let himself be judged and condemned than to judge or condemn a single one of us.
St. Luke is able to call John the Baptist's message good news, even though John proclaims that the messiah is coming in wrath and judgment, because Luke already knows about Jesus' life, death and resurrection. Luke lives on this side of Easter and so does Paul.
Paul calls us to rejoice in the Lord always because the Lord has already come into our midst and revealed himself to us. Paul reminds us that even as we wait for Christ to be fully revealed, he is already among us, walking with us in love. Our preparation for this season is above all remembering that he is near, that he abides with us in love, that he loves us with a love that has already declared victory over everything that is not love. The more we open our hearts to his love, the more we experience the peace of God that surpasses all understanding, and the more we will radiate a joy that nothing can shake.
Christianity spread throughout the ancient world like wildfire, because of people like Paul, who radiated joy in the midst of hardship and adversity. The book of Acts records that even Paul's jailers and guards were often converted when they saw his joy. And despite periodic announcements that Christianity is dead or dying, people are drawn to the faith every day because of people like Sammie whose lives testify to the surpassing joy of knowing Christ's love. That is the gift that God has given us, so that we can give it to the world.
May this Advent be a time for you to receive this gift of God's love at an ever deeper level of your soul. Remember that you are precious in God's eyes and rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice!
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