St. John’s Lutheran Church
15 December 2024 + Advent 6 (Advent 3c)
Philippians 4:4-7; Luke 3:7-18
Rev. Josh Evans
Rejoice in the Lord always!
Again, I say: Rejoice!
Don’t be anxious about anything … just… pray.
With all due respect to St. Paul,
that’s a lot easier said than done.
If peace sometimes feels like the hardest candle to light,
joy is right up there with it these days.
Don’t be anxious about anything?
Are you kidding me?
Have you read a newspaper?
I’ll at least concede the encouragement to pray –
if only because it seems like sometimes that’s all we can do.
Rejoicing in the midst of suffering, brokenness, and despair just doesn’t feel right.
It feels uneasy, inauthentic, and out of step with reality.
And then I remember…
If anyone had cause to despair, to be joy-less,
it would be Paul –
confined to a jail cell, awaiting trial, and anticipating execution.
Clearly there must be something to this “joy” thing.
Something resilient.
Beyond mere pleasure,
beyond a shallow, fleeting happiness.
“Joy,” as one theologian puts it, “is what happens when we daily live into the belief that God can and will bridge the gap between the world we long for and the world we see before our eyes.”
In other words,
joy does not deny the reality of suffering, brokenness, and despair.
But it also doesn’t leave us in those places.
Joy is a deep and profound expression of trust
in the God who is coming and has come to make all things new.
Joy is a longing.
Not a wishful thinking kind of longing that lets us off the hook.
“But a longing that compels us to participate in God’s good work… a longing that drives us to anticipate and enact [God’s reign of peace and justice] in every way we possibly can, while also admitting our desperation, our helplessness, our urgent need for a savior.”
(Debie Thomas)
This kind of joy requires a change in perspective –
and goes hand-in-hand with repentance –
to borrow a word from our good friend John the Baptist –
of clearing away everything that gets in the way
of the joy-full flourishing of God’s beloved community.
John’s words seem harsh –
“brood of vipers” isn’t exactly a term of endearment –
until Luke adds his own commentary, reminding us what this is all about:
“With many other exhortations [John] proclaimed the good news to the people.”
Like Mary who boldly sings of God’s radical, hope-filled justice,
even in the midst of her own precarious circumstances,
John beckons the crowds to envision God’s future of justice and joy,
even when their present circumstances feel impossible.
A future where those with an abundance
share with those who lack.
A future marked not by selfish greed
but by extravagant generosity.
A future where all are cared for.
A future we are compelled to joyfully build together.
A future that enables us to rejoice always
because of the imminent inbreaking of God’s reign among us –
here and now –
into our suffering, brokenness, and despair.
Good news.
Joy doesn’t deny our present circumstances,
however bleak they feel.
Instead, joy offers us a resilient hope
and the certainty that none of those things gets the last word.
We need this joy
of which Paul almost certainly reminds himself
as much as he encourages the Philippians.
We need this joy in abundance –
a testimony to God’s extravagant grace and love,
of the birth of hope in the bleakest circumstances –
the “good news of great joy” that the angels announce
to terrified, trembling shepherds.
The late Mary Oliver puts it this way in her poem:
If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy,
don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty
of lives and whole towns destroyed or about
to be. We are not wise, and not very often
kind. And much can never be redeemed.
Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this
is its way of fighting back, that sometimes
something happens better than all the riches
or power in the world. It could be anything,
but very likely you notice it in the instant
when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the
case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid
of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.
(“Don’t Hesitate” by Mary Oliver, from Devotions)
Joy fights back,
and is worth fighting for –
until all can rejoice
and feast on so much more than crumbs
around God’s banquet table.
