Again I say rejoice!

As we wind down Advent in preparation for the birth of Jesus, I wanted to reflect a little on joy. Joy is inherent to the season of Advent; the third Sunday of Advent is Gaudete (“Rejoice”) Sunday. The second reading that day was from Paul’s Letter to the Philippians, which is also known as the “Epistle of Joy” (shout-out Lanky Guys!). Writing from prison, Paul could have easily penned the “Epistle of Suffering” or the “Letter of Judgment,” but he doesn’t.

Instead, Paul writes “I…am praying always with joy”, “I shall continue to rejoice”, “I rejoice and share my joy with all of you”, and “Rejoice in the Lord always! I shall say it again: rejoice!”

What is it that gives him the ability to rejoice in such circumstances? Not in a superficial way or by wearing a mask for some secondary gain, but to have true, deep, abiding joy. Paul identifies over and over again that Christ is the source of this joy, and every other good thing, and that the more the Gospel is proclaimed, in any circumstance, the more cause there is for joy.

Do we live like this? I know I can’t speak for you, dear reader, but I know I don’t. I get embarrassingly bogged down in a very narrow "woe is me" worldview. I count my blessings, sure, but I would venture that the first word used to describe me is not "joyful". In confession last week, the priest reminded me that Advent is a time to let others see the JOY we have in the birth of our Savior, which was perhaps what led me down this path to begin with.

Most of my emotions are so short-lived that I can barely keep track of them, but I’ve felt that peace that comes when I’m resting in the Lord, the security in knowing I’m doing His will. And as many times as I’ve tried to take back the reins, I’ve laughed (or cried) as God shows me His way is better anyway. Take yesterday for example: I had been praying just that morning that God would use the sense of uneasiness I’d had lately to nudge me forward in a direction that would glorify Him. I wasn’t sure where my desolation was coming from, but it hung around clouding the air. I won’t go into all the details, but suffice it to say God brought about some answers in the least expected (and probably least desired by me) way. And so, despite my tears, I knew it was cause for rejoicing.

Every struggle we have in life is an opportunity to share the joy that Paul has in prison. Whatever happens, as long as we think on the things that are good and share the Gospel, we win. It doesn’t mean we’ll always be happy. Even Jesus cried, yelled, and chastised. But I don’t think He ever was without joy.

As we reflect on our Almighty God becoming a tiny, helpless newborn in order to bring us back to Him, may we receive the gift of His joy this Christmas. As we wait with longing for His return, may we rejoice in His victory, in our salvation.