May those who sow in tears reap with shouts of joy! He that goes forth weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him. [Psalm 126:5-6 (RSV)]
Colors have been used to differentiate liturgical seasons since the 4th century and, by the 12th century, Pope Innocent systemized their use in the church. Originally Advent was about penance, prayer and fasting in preparation for baptism so purple (the color associated with sacrifice and repentance from sin) was its liturgical color. Like the Advent wreath, however, liturgical colors are merely traditions and have no basis in Scripture. Most denominations have added more colors to the original five.
Representing the traditional Advent color of penitence, three of the four candles on our wreath are purple. This Sunday’s candle, however, is pink—the traditional color of joy and happiness—and the day’s Scripture readings are joyful ones. They start with the good news for the oppressed found in Isaiah 61 followed by the psalmist’s promise of a harvest of joy in Psalm 126. In the gospel, the good news of Isaiah 40 is repeated by John the Baptist and, in the epistle, Paul tells the Thessalonians always to be joyful. After the somber and apocalyptic readings of the last two Sundays, these readings are a welcome change. In the Roman Catholic Church, this Sunday is known Gaudete Sunday. The name comes from the Latin translation of Philippians 4:4—Gaudete in Domino sempe meaning “Rejoice in the Lord always”—which were the first words of the introit for mass on the third Sunday of Advent.
Those words, however, shouldn’t be limited to this one Sunday because Paul’s words weren’t a suggestion; they were a command! Reasons to rejoice, however, seem to be in short supply right now and, rather than rejoicing, many are grieving. While some may grieve the actual loss of loved ones, we’re all grieving the loss of our sense of normalcy. Christmas is a holiday filled with long-standing traditions, many of which won’t be observed this year. In a season when friends and family are front and center, we won’t be home for the holidays or gathering with those we love. A malicious virus will keep us from travel, festive parties, visits to Santa, holiday parades, crowded candlelight Christmas Eve services, Christmas markets, neighborhood potlucks, cookie exchanges, and the annual sing-along Messiah. This pandemic seems to have stolen Christmas the way the Grinch did when he terrorized Whoville by stealing all the Christmas presents, food, and decorations.
But, let’s remember—when the Grinch heard every Who down in Whoville sing joyfully on Christmas morning, he realized that Christmas didn’t come from a store! The lighting of this candle of joy will remind us of that same thing. Christmas isn’t about enjoying family and friends and observing decades old traditions. It’s about rejoicing in the good news that a Savior was born—rejoicing that because Jesus atoned for our sins, rather than being separated from God, we are His sons and daughters. It’s rejoicing that Heaven will be our home someday. It’s rejoicing that, even though we plant in tears, we will harvest in joy! Whether or not you light the candle of joy on an Advent wreath, be sure to rekindle the candle of joy in your heart!
The story was told of a devout Christian woman who, after moving to a new town, visited the local church: the Church of Holier than Thou. When the children’s choir sang the prelude, she was so happy to hear their angelic voices that she applauded at the end of their song. An usher came up and whispered in her ear, “Ma’am, we don’t applaud in this church.” She apologized for the disturbance and the service continued. When the pastor gave his sermon, she was so moved by his words that she shouted out an “Amen!” in response. The usher returned to her side and again sternly instructed her, “You’ll have to restrain yourself here in the Church of Holier than Thou.” Chagrined, the woman promised to behave and the service continued. The choir rose and sang a beautiful medley that included God of our Fathers and How Great Thou Art. Overcome by the words of praise, the woman shouted out “Hallelujah” and “Praise God!” at the song’s conclusion. The usher strode up to her and said, “Lady, you’re causing a disturbance. You’ll have to leave!” The poor woman responded, “I just couldn’t help myself; I was overcome by the joy of the Lord!” In a huff, the usher responded, ‘Well, you sure didn’t get it here!”
In the Pearls Before Swine comic drawn by Stephen Pastis, Pig may be a little naïve but, sometimes, the sweet fellow has the right idea. In a recent strip, when asked why he was wearing an enormous hat decorated with a smiley face, he explained it was “the hat o’ great happiness” and he wore it as a way of sending happiness to others. I thought of Pig’s silly hat of happiness while viewing an ad made by Coca-Cola as part of their 2015 Belgian “Choose happiness” campaign.
Several years ago, our mountain church hosted a concert sponsored by the small Jewish congregation in town. I vividly remember the end of the program as Jews and Gentiles sang Hava Nagila, joined hands, and danced the hora around our large sanctuary. Impressed by the performer’s energy, passion, and love of God, I purchased one of his recordings. Yesterday, after sorting through some old books and CDs, I listened to it for the first time in over 10 years. The music was composed and performed by a man who still performs today but the Hebrew words he sang were those of the Hallel and over 2,000 years old.
When I wrote about my friend Pat yesterday, I didn’t want to imply that the only thing non-believers miss is eternal life. The saddest part of being a non-believer (or waiting until the eleventh hour to believe), is foregoing the abundance of life promised by Jesus while we live on this side of the grass.
Devotions of the Heart 