Radical Joy
By: Michael Jackson Chaney
Tags: Hope, Magnificat, Advent, Joy

The Third Sunday of Advent, Year B, December 13, 2020

The other day somebody asked me if I was an optimist. An optimist? In my mind I thought an optimist was somebody that could stand in a burning building in the middle of a war zone and say “Oh, everything’s fine. Just fine.” I didn’t know if I was an optimist, but I knew I wasn’t a pessimist. You know, like Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street, always looking for something to complain about.

“Crummy weather. Gotta chill this hot chocolate down so it tastes good and yucky.”

I guess I thought of myself as someone who is hopeful. Even when things are crappy. Like even in this crappy pandemic. Even now we’re figuring out new ways to cope and build community. We’re looking forward to what might happen when the dumpster fire known as 2020 comes to a close.

This third Sunday of Advent is also known as Guadete Sunday. It’s signified by a pink candle on the advent wreath. At my last church we had fancy pink stoles and chasubles that we only got to wear this one Sunday a year. I just have this blue one. Anyway, the point of Guadete Sunday is to take a little break from all of this penitential business of being so introspective and look outwardly with joy. This is the Sunday of joy!

Be joyful? Now? In the middle of a global pandemic? When we’re out of work? When it’s getting cold? When we can’t go anywhere or do anything?

One of my theologians, Henri Nouwen, described the difference between joy and happiness. While happiness is dependent on external conditions, joy is “the experience of knowing that you are unconditionally loved and that nothing — sickness, failure, emotional distress, oppression, war, or even death — can take that love away.”[1] Thus joy can be present even in the midst of sadness.

Today we hear a passage from a letter that the Apostle Paul was writing to the people in the Greek town of Thessaloniki. He wrote them a letter of encouragement. I remember one time my dad wrote me a letter of encouragement during my freshman year of college. It was incredibly moving. It came out of the blue. I don’t think I’d expressed that anything in particular had been difficult but he knew acclimating to change could be challenging and whether I knew it or not, I needed that letter and it was good to receive. It was good to know that I was loved. He also included a can of anchovies and some shaving cream so there was that too.

Think about the way Christmas cards have a tendency to cheer us up this time of year. In a way they’re letters of encouragement.

And this is why Paul was writing to these folks in the Greek town. He was giving them a strategy for remaining joyful in troubling times. He’s asking a troubled people in a troubled time rejoice. Rejoice always! Even when times were crappy. Because all of us are loved.

He reminded them to hold fast to that which is good, to not return evil for evil, and to not neglect the words of the prophets that give us hope.

Yes, the prophets of scripture can bring us joy! I know we’re used to hearing about prophets that lament oppression and provide warnings about a dire future if we don’t get ourselves in check, but prophets can also foretell us of immeasurable joys to come.

Listen to Mary, the mother of Jesus! Today we hear her response to the news that she’s pregnant.

Now, consider her situation. She’s an unwed teenager living in a backwater that’s occupied by an oppressive foreign army. She’s poor. A peasant. Life is hard. And now… she’s pregnant!

Mary doesn’t say “Oh no, my dad’s gonna kill me”. And I’ve haven’t even been messing around, either.

Mary doesn’t say “Oh, no.”

She says yes! Not just yes! But more like a OH YEAH!

Not only YES but also… with this baby, the whole system is coming down!

Things are about to get radical!

And they DID get radical. They got radical when God became incarnate as one of us in a cosmic solidarity. God came down to be with us, to fully understand what it’s like to be a human being. Not a human being living in a mansion, living in luxury, but a homeless man who openly and radically loved every single person he ever met. And then some. He loved us so much that he even willingly gave himself to the ultimate sacrifice.

So, yeah, things got radical.

The lowly were lifted

The mighty were cast down from their thrones.

The hungry were fed.

The rich were sent away empty.

He remembered his promise of mercy.

And he still does today.

Let this message be a Christmas card of hope to you today. Maybe I’m an optimist after all. I don’t know. But I am hopeful. I am filled with the hope of what Jesus offered us. I am filled with the hope of a better world that offers fulfillment to all people.

There is joy in this world. We find it in the smallest of places and the most unexpected encounters. It is a joy of the promise of a better tomorrow replete with God’s unending love for all of us, even Oscar the Grouch.

Amen.

[1] Laskey, Mike Jordan (11 December 2014). “This Gaudete Sunday, Rejoice Despite the Heartbreak All Around Us”. National Catholic Reporter. Kansas City, Missouri. Retrieved 11 December 2018.