Third Sunday of Advent
As we continue our Advent journey, the sense of expectation in our waiting increases. Christmas is virtually only a week away now! This can fill us with a sense of disbelief and dismay because of all that we consider needs to be achieved beforehand. But it can also fill us with a sense of wonder and anticipation. The outcome of wonder is joy. And so, we light the third candle of our Advent wreath – the rose-coloured candle – designated for the gift of joy that is given to us as people of both hope and faith.
As those who watch for the birth of the Lord’s life in the world, we are people of joy!
Like hope and faith, joy is not simply a feeling. It is not equated with happiness. Happiness is a feeling that occurs in response to what happens around us. But joy is something far deeper. In fact, we can feel sad, but we can still be joyful. There is much that happens that affects our feelings. We can feel deeply uncertain and anxious because of the threat of fire which surrounds us at the moment; we can feel sad at the tragedies that occur and in which we might be involved such as the with the recent loss of life on White Island off the coast of New Zealand; we can feel angry at the actions or inaction of government to address structures of injustice. And yet we can still be people of hope, joy and peace. This is because hope, joy and peace are not feelings. Rather they are profound recognitions of what is given to us in our faith, our belief that something new has come into our world through the birth of Jesus Christ, and that, therefore, the world is no longer the same. We are no longer the same. No longer are we simply at the mercy of randomness and arbitrariness. Rather, we are enveloped by a mystery of love that holds us, sustains us, and opens up for us a future always.
Happiness is the outcome of the achievement of our aspirations. But Joy is the outcome of the experience of being loved, of rejoicing in a promise which has been given to us being fulfilled. And this promise proclaimed at Christmas is “I am with you.” As Pope Paul VI taught, “If Jesus radiates such peace, such assurance, such happiness, such availability, it is by reason of the inexpressible love by which he knows that he is loved by his Father. The disciples are called to share this joy: Jesus wishes them to have in themselves his joy in its fullness . . . This is the paradox of the Christian condition which sheds particular light on that of the human condition: neither trials nor sufferings have been eliminated from this world, but they take on new meaning in the certainty of sharing in the redemption wrought by the Lord and of sharing in his glory. This why the Christian, though subject to the difficulties of human life, is not reduced to groping for the way; nor do they see in death the end of their hopes . . .”[1]
Paul VI went on to say that it is precisely this Joy that gives the heart a catholic openness to the world of people. This is because the joy that comes from knowing we are part of a much larger story than simply the one before us, indicates to us that whatever might present before us, no matter how upsetting it might be, is not the final word. There is always something more. And because there is something more, our hearts remain open, not enclosed, living and awake not entombed in despair.
John the Baptist, whom we hear about today, is a figure then not simply of repentance. He teaches us to be those constantly on the watch for the ways that the Kingdom of God is birthed in our world: when justice transforms injustice, when reconciliation transforms alienation, when atonement transforms arrogance, when mutuality transforms competitiveness, when forgiveness transforms resentment. And we are not only to watch for these moments but to rejoice when we recognise them! The Advent person is not locked up in their own private world, but alert to all the signs of the Kingdom’s coming around them. The Advent person, the person truly waiting for the coming of their Lord, celebrates all these moments of transformation as possibilities or otherwise for the Kingdom. We are in this sense, “Kingdom-spotters” – just as was John the Baptist himself. We live expectantly, rejoicing when we see the signs of the Kingdom birthed in our midst.
Living joyfully means we live then with gratitude, with hearts grateful for what we see and hear around us. The opposite of gratitude is criticism. A life marked by criticism is a sad life because it always places a demand on life that can never be realised. So, a critical life is one that is saturated with disappointment and resentment. It becomes bitter and cynical, never at peace, never at rest. It separates people, keeping them constantly at a distance.
A life, however, that is marked with gratitude is one that is gracious. It recognises goodness; it breathes the humility to acknowledge the blessings that are occurring – yes, even in the midst of difficulties and challenges. It is a life that remains open to possibility. The sense of gratitude develops a gracious heart – a graced way of being. I think one of the greatest compliments that we can give another is that they are gracious.
A gracious person radiates an unmistakable openness of being, a lightness of encounter, a warmth and a dignity that emerges from a confident humility. That each of us would be gracious! This is a sure sign that the life of the Lord has truly been birthed within us. Let each of us be this light of joy in our world.
[1] Pope Paul VI, Gaudete in Domini, “On Christian Joy” Apostolic Exhortation (9 May 1975).
