Joy- The Gift of Advent in and to Community

A Reflection on the 3^rd Sunday of Advent             Church of the Holy Trinity, Hertford, NC

December 17, 2023                                                 Thomas E Wilson, Guest Celebrant

Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11 Canticle 3 1 Thessalonians 5:16-24 John 1:6-8,19-28

JOY – The Gift of Advent in and to Community

Today, we look at the Gaudete or 3^rd (or Rose colored) candle, the Candle of Joy. It is the Joy of Mary when she finds out she is Pregnant.

My soul doth magnify the Lord, *
    and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior.
For he hath regarded *
    the lowliness of his handmaiden.
For behold from henceforth *
    all generations shall call me blessed.

The Song that she sings is heavily influenced by the Song of Hannah, the mother of Samuel, who also understands that she is pregnant with a child who will be the Prophet who will give meaning to his nation. Hannah and Mary know that both of their children as prophets, as they as mothers of prophets know all too well, will have many times of sorrow. However, their faith tells them that deep sorrow while painful and will last as long as it needs, joy is what will remain for generations to come.

In the Hebrew Testament lesson for today, it is the Joy of the prophets of the school of Isaiah, who live in ruins, but now whose hearts are filled with joy that the exiles will return and rebuild those ruins of Jerusalem.

It is the joy that Paul is writing in his letter to the Gentile Christians in Thessaloniki in his final exhortations: “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances.” No matter the situation, the fallback position of a Christian is to rejoice and pray with thanksgiving.

It is the Joy of John the Baptizer who in the Gospel Lesson from the Apostle John has in sorrow seen that his own work will end; but in joy understands the torch will be passed on to the one who is the Messiah, Jesus.

Last Sunday I tried to begin to write this week's sermon. I am doing the Candles on the Advent wreath which symbolize Hope, Peace, Joy and Love. I started off this series two weeks ago with my theme of Hope. So I pulled up the lessons. I started to work and as they say, “I was cooking with Gas”. UNTIL I realized that I was writing on Love, the 4th Candle. It was supposed to be about the 3rd Candle, JOY.

The thing is that I wasn't all that joyful. My focus on Love had a lot to do with my love for Pat, my wife who had died about 6 months ago. I did not feel any sort of joy and was in the middle of throwing a pity party about myself.

That morning I had gone to a Presbyterian service where the Pastor is holding his last service at that Parish, before he is moving from the Outer Banks to another church in Charlotte. I was there to thank him for the work he had done in our community. It was sad to see him leave, I respected his work. I had no joy for his leaving. I did not do any reflection on Peace, the second candle. In that I was lucky since I was far from Peace.

I walked away from the writing and admitted that Joy and I were strangers right now. One way to avoid sorrow is to pick a fight with someone and point out that THEY are the ones with the problem the Preacher wants to avoid in his or her own life. Preachers in church have it easy: they can always look at the parishioners and brow beat them for their failures AND get paid for it at the same time. I could write something like:"You miserable sinners, you ought to project joy! It is your Christian duty! Shape up and fly right, you creatures of the pews!"

For the next 30+ hours I avoided thinking about Joy and gave that job to God. Then I went to Facebook, nothing helps running away more than a computer. The Gods of Facebook had done their research and they brought up a picture out of the ether waves, posted nine years ago on that day. It was a picture of my youngest grandson, Nick and in that moment he became St. Nick in my life. This happy little boy, was smiling, he was nine at the time and the years of learning how to be a sullen teenager were far ahead of him. He was in their home in Colorado, so far away, proudly standing with his Cello, and the musical instrument as almost as tall as he was. He knew nothing about failure, his face knew only joy. I saw his smile and I became a prisoner of his joy. The family of my beloved daughter, her wonderful husband and the oldest Grandson, Luke, who is in his senior year of college working on his degree in Music with the Computer as his instrument, I was flooded with how much I joyfully loved that family. Nick, That little boy is now finishing up his first semester at an Upper Midwestern College where he is majoring in Environmental Science. How he has grown up!

A few minutes, less that 15, I had another attack of joy. Then, around 2:00, just after looking at the picture of my grandson, Nick, I got a phone call from another local Presbyterian retired friend of mine. He and his wife are retired Presbyterian ministers and had been at the service on that Sunday morning. I though he was calling to share how badly he felt that our friend was leaving, BUT, he was in the process of putting the Christmas Card addresses in order. He was checking on my address.

I didn't really care about getting a card, but I was touched that he was reaching out to me to remind me that I was not alone and that he and his wife wanted to tell me that I was loved and Pat was missed. I told him about how I needed to hear that, I was now filled with joy.

I understood that Joy is not something that we whomp up, but Joy is a gift that is being given all the time and we just have to stop and be surprised. Even when we don't see it, we are surrounded.

I thought of William Wordsworth's Poem, one of the founders of English Romanticism which paid close attention to feelings and in his poem Surprised By Joy written in 1812. Wordsworth was all alone, mourning the death of his three year old daughter, Catherine, and his six year old son, Thomas, six months later. In the poem he feels guilty that he had allowed joy to surprise him and he saw he was being unfaithful to his love to have any joy.

Surprised by joy—impatient as the Wind

I turned to share the transport—Oh! with whom

But Thee, long buried in the silent Tomb,

That spot which no vicissitude can find?

Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind—

But how could I forget thee?—Through what power,

Even for the least division of an hour,

Have I been so beguiled as to be blind

To my most grievous loss!—That thought’s return

Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,

Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,

Knowing my heart’s best treasure was no more;

That neither present time, nor years unborn

Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.

In that poem I saw my life was imitating his art, except I was lucky and my friend had been with me, and I understood that Joy cannot be self sustained, it takes a community.

I meet once a month with a group of friends and we are now reading a book n written by Nadia Bolz -Webber, a Lutheran Pastor of The House of All Sinners and Saints. This passage struck me as I was preparing this reflection and you are looking for a new Rector:

So often in the church, being a pastor or “a spiritual leader” means the example of “Godly living.” A pastor is supposed to be the person who is really good at this Christianity stuff- the person others can look to as an example of righteousness. But as much as being the person who's the best Christian, who “Follows Jesus” the most closely, can feel a little seductive, it simply never been who I am or who my parishioners need me to be. I am not running after Jesus. Jesus is running my ass ( an expressive word for “behind”) down. Yeah, I am a leader, but I am leading them onto a street to get hit by the speeding bus of confession and absolution, sin and sainthood, death and resurrection – that is the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

I am a beggar and I take joy wherever I can find it. Over the years my reaction is to take my sorrow to church so I can be surrounded with love which brings forth joy. I am preaching on joy because it is a gift of God's spirit each of us needs to embrace daily. I am not going to preach on love next week; I'll just have to live it if Jesus catches me.