A sermon on Philippians 4:4-6 for the Third Sunday in Advent. Delivered by Pastor Caleb Strutz.
Normally the sermon is on one of the lessons assigned for that day, but today, I want to draw our attention to something that we probably overlook from Sunday to Sunday. The lessons change from week to week, but there are also other parts of the service, the Introit, Gradual, and Alleluia Verse, which also change and are also connected to the same theme. The Introit near the start of the service is especially important because it’s the first of these changing texts that we encounter and it gives us the first taste of the theme and sets the tone for the day.
And today’s Introit is really unique. Usually these are taken from the Psalter, but today it’s from the New Testament, Philippians 4:4-6, which will show up again next Sunday as the Epistle reading. Today it’s used as the Introit, setting the theme for this day: “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice!”
This Introit has given this Sunday the Latin name “Gaudete,” which means “rejoice.” Gaudete Sunday is a day of rejoicing in the midst of the more somber and penitential season of Advent. This is reflected even in the liturgical color, as it shifts from violet to rose, as you can see by the candles on the Advent wreath.
But what does it mean to have a day of rejoicing in a penitential season? Those two things seem to be at odds. But we can see in our experience and, more importantly, in Scripture that human emotions are rarely simple or one-dimensional, but are complex and multifaceted. We learn from our Introit this day to rejoice in the Lord always! Even when overcome with sorrow, as Christian joy permeates all things.
I. Even When Overcome with Sorrow
The ancient church thought that it was fitting to give us a bit of a break during Advent. Gaudete Sunday developed in light of ancient, more rigorous practices surrounding penitential seasons. Today was meant as a way to pause in the middle of Advent, maybe take a break from whatever penitential practice you adopted, gain some strength, and to dive right back into it again. This island of joy in a season of sorrow.
Although you probably haven’t adopted any Advent penitential practices, and that’s okay, the mixture of joy and sorrow on this day is, I think, very applicable to our modern context, but perhaps in reverse.
For most people, this month of December, this holiday season from Thanksgiving to New Years is a time of joy and rejoicing, a season of happiness and good food and family. But that’s also exactly what can make it so difficult for so many people because when we don’t have those things at this time of year, their absence is all the more painful.
Because maybe the kids can’t make it down this year, or maybe they haven’t put in the effort for quite a while. Maybe this will be the first Christmas without a loved one and that empty seat at the table fills you with sorrow. Or maybe that seat has been empty for years and the holidays just bring it up again. Maybe it fills you with joy that the whole family’s in church on Christmas but then that’s poisoned by knowing that they won’t be back again until next year.
Human emotions are rarely straightforward, rarely one-dimensional. But so often we trick ourselves into thinking that they’re supposed to be. So we get trapped in our mixed emotions, we feel guilty that we’re not happy enough, or we would maybe avoid that joy altogether to wallow in our sorrow.
What does it mean to rejoice and mourn at the same time? It feels contradictory, like we have to make up our mind. And how often do we give in to the sadness and the sorrow instead of the joy? The holiday season is so hard because so often we don’t feel how we think we’re supposed to feel, we idolize an unattainable emotional state, we don’t let ourselves experience that joy because of the sorrow.
II. Joy Permeates All Things
The apostle Paul, of all people, knows what it’s like to feel more than one thing at a time. As he writes this letter to the church in Philippi, he’s been in prison for four years. He hardly seems like a candidate for joy, much less one to tell others to rejoice. Rejoice? Always? How? Because we rejoice in the Lord.
This doesn’t mean that God is simply the object of our rejoicing, but that He is the author of our joy. Christian joy is given by God and flows from faith. Christian joy is deep-seated, it’s more than a temporary emotional state, it permeates all things.
Christian joy is not contrary to sorrow and sadness and mourning, but it mixes with them and permeates them so that we can rightly feel two things at once. As we feel pain from our relationships, we have the joy of knowing that we are right with God. As we mourn the death of a loved one, we are glad because they are with our Savior. As we grieve our sin, we rejoice because with God there is forgiveness. Rejoicing in the Lord is not contrary to everything else we feel and everything we must endure but it mixes with it all and lightens the load.
As we bear the baggage that the holiday season brings, we rejoice in what it’s all about, that Christ came to this earth to be our Savior. As we feel and carry pain and sorrow, we rejoice that Christ has rescued us in eternity from all that would afflict us. “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice!”
We rejoice in all things, even in the midst of sadness, because our joy is in the Lord. He has saved us and delivered us and made us His own. He sent His Son to live for us and die for us and rise again to give us new life. We rejoice because we are clothed in the blood of Christ, because He has washed away all of your sin, because He has saved you in eternity from everything that threatens you in this life.
And this Christian joy, which is deep-seated and enduring, which mixes with and purifies all the rest of our emotions, has an outlet. It leads us somewhere. “Let your gentleness be known to all men. The Lord is at hand.”
This joy is not unbridled enthusiasm but it leads to and manifests in gentleness. This is an interesting word, the concept it’s getting at, from the Greek lexicon, is “not insisting on every right of letter of law or custom, yielding, gentle, timid, courteous, tolerant” (BDAG ἐπιεικής). And the supplemental reason, besides it flowing from joy, is this, “The Lord is at hand.”
The joy of Christmas, of the mystery of the Incarnation, has brought into the world all these good things that will culminate when Christ comes again. And that could happen at any time. The Lord is near. And this eternal perspective puts into context our joy and our dealings with others.
We are to understand and take into consideration the failings and weaknesses of others, not allowing for sin, but showing and sharing the generosity that we have received. We are to be lenient and gentle with others, putting the best construction on everything, because we have been shown God’s grace and favor. We would rather be wronged than insist on having our way because the time is coming when this world will pass away and none of it will matter anyways. We are to drop all that is ours to hold fast to all that is Christ’s, ready to drop earth that we may better grasp heaven.
Joy in the Lord influences our actions towards others and it also changes our interior life. While Christian joy mixes well with sorrow and mourning and grief, it does not tolerate worry or anxiety. “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God.”
Joy permeates so many of our emotions, but it kicks out anxiousness. Grief and sorrow and pain have a purpose but worry isn’t good for anything. And the remedy for worry and anxiety, the path towards a fuller joy is prayer.
All of our burdens we take to God “by prayer and supplication” because all things are in His hands and He makes all things right. And this is “in everything,” nothing too big or too small, from the minor stressors this season brings to life’s big questions and concerns, all of it to Him.
And our prayers aren’t just asking God for stuff, it’s not only “requests,” but it’s “with thanksgiving,” praying with one eye towards the past in recognition of all that God has done for you and one eye towards the future, knowing that He will take care of whatever is going on in the present.
This season can be a source of sorrow and pain and grief, and that has its place. But don’t be stuck there. And don’t let it lead to worry. Rejoice in the Lord. Always.
So that’s Gaudete Sunday. That’s why pastor’s wearing a pink stole. Because we rejoice even in the midst of sorrow and sadness, we have joy in the Lord, no matter what we must endure. And in this, we see the value of our liturgical year and its rhythms. There are times and seasons and days for every emotion when we are told how to feel, when to sorrow and when to rejoice.
This tells us that our emotions are in our control. If it was up to us, the liturgical year would be all over the place and would vary dramatically from person to person. But we have these rhythms, we have these patterns, we have these times to feel certain things so that we don’t get lost in them, but so that we can put them in context. We let God guide our emotions, so that we feel sorrow without falling into despair, we feel joy without it fizzling out.
God gives you permission to feel more than one thing at a time, and we see that especially today. Don’t be ashamed to mourn or be sad, that’s a recognition that we live in a broken world and a cry to God to help. But know that we have joy in the Lord which permeates all things, which gives us hope no matter what, so that we rejoice in the Lord always. Amen.
