Suggested Readings: Zephaniah 3:14-20; Philippians 4:4-7; Luke 3:7-18
My toddler has recently learned the word “happy,” and it is his new favorite word. He says it all the time. He walks around the house, usually clutching a favorite toy or book, and repeats it to himself like a mantra: “Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy!” I’m not even sure he totally grasps the full meaning of the word yet, but when he says it, he is grinning proudly and flashing all seven of his teeth, so he must understand a little bit. Being the clumsy not-quite-one-and-a-half-year-old that he is, however, he will inevitably miss a step, or get going a little too quickly, or trip over something, and when he falls to the floor his happiness immediately dissolves into despondent wailing. I am always amazed at how rapidly he can shift from one emotion to another, then back again.
When everything is going his way, he is happy, happy, happy, happy. When circumstances become less than ideal, his happiness evaporates. It’s easy to blame this emotional rollercoaster on toddlerhood and a prefrontal cortex that will be under construction for a good long while, but in truth I know that I am often exactly the same way, fully-formed brain notwithstanding. I may not have a screaming meltdown at the slightest inconvenience (or, who knows? I might!), but all it takes is one traffic jam, one spilled cup of coffee, one forgotten meeting to sour my mood for the day.
The third Sunday of Advent is traditionally known as Gaudete Sunday. Gaudete is Latin for “rejoice,” and it comes from the first lines of today’s passage from Philippians: “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice.” And Paul does seem to mean it when he says “always”: Somewhat astonishingly, these words of encouragement from Paul to the church at Philippi come from inside a prison cell! In much the same way that the Bible’s repeated injunctions to “fear not” appear riiiiiiiight about the time that something terrifying is happening, Paul’s exhortation to “rejoice” arises out of decidedly unhappy circumstances. In our other Scripture passages for today, the prophet Zephaniah’s song of joy comes at the end of a brutal few chapters of doom and woe, and John the Baptist’s proclamation of “good news” is…harsh, to say the least, and comes at the end of a diatribe that begins with calling his hearers a “brood of vipers” (way to really draw your audience in, John!). How are these scriptural paradoxes possible?
We can make a distinction here between happiness and joy. Happiness is an emotion and is therefore fleeting, subject to the whims of our circumstances and our mood. Joy, on the other hand, is a deep and abiding sense of contentment, a disposition that can sustain us no matter what is happening. The Bible more often than not points us toward joy, not happiness.
This doesn’t mean we should try to suppress our grief, sorrow, or disappointment. It doesn’t mean we must pretend we’re doing fine when we’re not. It doesn’t mean we should feel guilty when we are having a bad day (or week! or month!), or when we can’t seem to find our way out of the gloom. Just as I want my child to bring his frustration and pain to me when he falls down, not just his happiness, we can and should bring our whole selves to God. As another portion of our sacred text reminds us, there is a time for everything—laughing and dancing, yes, but also weeping and mourning (Ecclesiastes 3:4).
Just as each week’s Advent candle resolutely offers a humble spark of light in the darkness, the joy of Christ’s presence can buoy us no matter our circumstance. That flickering flame of joy is there for us when we are ready for it. The time for rejoicing is coming.
Beth Ritter-Conn
Assistant Professor of Religion
