Joy:
an Inside & Outside Job
To the church in Diaspora[1].
Zephaniah
3:14-18a Philippians 4:4-7 Luke
3:10-18
Introduction
The old command to rejoice
Since Vatican II there’s a new Advent. It’s no longer a
penitential season but one of joyful preparation for Christmas. What’s not new
is that the third Sunday of Advent still commands us to rejoice, as it did for
centuries. Various scripture quotations commanding us to rejoice are to be
found now in all three liturgical cycles of A, B and C of the new lectionary.
In cycle A, the Prophet
Isaiah promises that “The desert will rejoice and flowers will bloom in the
wastelands. The desert will sing and shout for joy and be as beautiful as the
mountains of
The command to rejoice, issued midway through Advent, made
more sense in the old days when Advent was still a penitential season with
rules for fasting and holding back on the spirit of celebration. In those days it
was natural to rejoice that the sober season of Advent was half-through, and
that soon we could intoxicate ourselves with Christmas Day.
On Gaudete
Sunday the color rose for joy may be used for the priest’s vestments in place
of purple (a hang-over from the old days when Advent was penitential). Three of
the four candles of the Advent wreath are purple, but one of them is rose for
the Sunday that commands us to rejoice.
A command to rejoice?
In
this great age of psychology (when all sing,
“I want to be me”) we would likely frown upon commanding anyone to rejoice or
be happy. If I’m feeling glum for whatever reason, then glum I’m going feel,
and don’t tell me to smile “because God loves you.” If I want to go around
grouching "Bah humbug!" like old Scrooge because something’s gone
wrong in my life, then that’s what I’m going to do, and don’t expect me to rejoice and wish you a Merry
Christmas.
You just don’t go around commanding
people to rejoice and be happy, especially if they have cancer or are beset
with some tragedy or are undergoing some terrible loss. Oh, but the Prophet Zephaniah
does! Speaking to a group of refugees in a slum district of Jerusalem, he
commands them saying, "Shout for joy, O daughter
Joy: an inside job
Joy (peace, Shalom) is a
mix. It’s partly about being born into the right circumstances which nurture
good health, good education and good parenting. Joy is also partly about genetics;
some people seem to be born joyful-- to be born with peace and Shalom in them
no matter what.
But joy is also a personal
decision. Someone put it this way: Joy (peace, Shalom) is also “an inside job.”
Zephaniah can command poor refugees in a slum district of Jerusalem to shout for
joy because joy is also a decision—an inside job. Paul sitting in prison can
command the Philippians to rejoice always in the Lord because joy is also a
decision—an inside job. To evoke the
climate of December, joy is also a personal decision to try hard not to be
snowbound by grief or bitterness but to break through our snowdrifts and rise, as
best we can, to the top and bloom there like daffodils in early spring.
An
inside job for an old lady
An e-mail sent me speaks of joy as an inside job. It
reads: A 92-year-old, petite, poised and proud lady is fully dressed each
morning by
“That doesn’t have anything to do with it,” she replied.
“Happiness is something you also decide upon ahead of time. Whether I like my
room or not doesn’t depend on what kind of furniture is in it or how it is
arranged. It’s what’s in my mind and how
that is arranged there that counts. I
have already decided to be happy with my room.
It’s a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice: I
can spend the day in bed bemoaning the difficulties I have with parts of my
body that no longer work. Or I can get out of bed and be thankful for the ones
that do work.” That’s joy: partly also
an inside job.
An inside job for Dorothy
The following isn’t from an e-mail; this one is from real
life.
One day a friend and I paid him an overdue visit. (It’s
easy to put off visiting grief and disaster.) During the visit Gene drooled and
grunted, mounted his wheelchair with help and then with help again quickly
dismounted. With difficulty he lay down for a moment and then suddenly
struggled to get up. That had been going on for four long years! All during our
visit Dorothy was there beside him with a hands-on presence that was totally
unselfconscious. Inconspicuously present to her husband, she was totally
present to us as well. With a sparkle in
her eye and a kind of chuckle in her voice and a beam of joy on her countenance,
we talked about the good old days. If there was an ounce of self-pity in her,
she was a master at hiding it. The third Sunday of Advent commanded her to
rejoice, and rejoice she did As we were leaving my friend said to Dorothy,
“You’re a wonderful inspiration for us all.” We drove home in a kind of awesome
silence. We broke it only to marvel at such a spectacle of joy as an inside
job. I envy it!
An inside job for Ted
I love Ted Wing--an 86 year-old young man. Some time ago
he lost his dearly beloved wife. (We always say “dearly beloved.” It’s what we’re
expected to say. But this wife was,
indeed, dearly beloved.) Recently he lost his dearly beloved daughter, Mary
Ellen. (Again we always say “dearly beloved.” It’s what we’re expected to
say. But this daughter was,
indeed, dearly beloved.) Her very long
necrology in the newspaper showed what along life she lived in a very short
time. Ted has cancer of the bone. He’s taking radiation for it. He’s made
provision for home hospice service when the time comes for that, and then when
things get bad he has it arranged to move into hospice service at Columbia St.
Mary’s.
The third Sunday of Advent commands him to rejoice! And
rejoice he does. There always a smiling glow on his face. There’s always a song
in his voice. There’s always a joking lilt in his talk. If there’s an ounce of
self-pity in him, he’s a master at hiding it. I always marvel at him. I always
marvel at such a spectacle of joy as an inside job. I envy it!
Conclusion
Joy: also an outside
job
But we’re not all like Ted Wing or Dorothy Bunke or the
92 year old petite but tough little lady. Many of us aren’t very good at joy
(peace, Shalom) as an inside job, especially when the chips are down. Many of
us need a lot of help from outside. In
the midst of a severe shortage of priests, I have recently been fired and am
now living in a refugee camp (with a number of other refugees). But despite that,
because of you and your words and your gestures of encouragement I (who am not
a natural at joy) know that the Lord is near. Because of you, though I’m
sitting in a refugee camp I am today, indeed, shouting for joy.
Joy is an inside job. The Gaudete candle burning brightly in the Advent wreath today commands
even those who grieve to go forth and rejoice. But joy is also an outside job;
it needs help. The Gaudete candle
burning brightly in the Advent wreath today commands us all to go forth and help
those who grieve to know the Lord is near and to shout for joy.