Third Sunday of Advent
Zeph 3, 14-18a / Phil 4, 4-7 / Lk 3, 10-18
Joy
is in the air – at least, it should be according to our readings. From the prophet Zephaniah we hear: “Shout for joy, O daughter of Zion!” And St. Paul practically shouts to us: “Brothers and sisters: Rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say it again: rejoice!” So the message is clear. It’s joy.
It’s Gaudete Sunday.
To
be honest. I always come to “Gaudete”
Sunday with some hesitation. That’s
because I’ve heard so many sermons preached in a way that tried to make joy
into one, big should in my life. “You
should be joyful!” And if you’re
not, there’s something wrong with you spiritually. But to me, joy can’t be made into that kind
of ashould. You will be
joyful! – is too contrived. It just
doesn’t work.
Yet
“Gaudete” Sunday does make me think about joy.
It makes me curious about the kind of joy so easily associated with this
time of year. Joy does seem to be the
goal of all our eating and drinking – the goal of our music. Whether we sing “Joy to the World” or “Rudolf
the Red-nosed Reindeer” – I do think we want joy to come out of it all. And of course there’s our gift-giving. We don’t give gifts to get a groan. We want smiles. We want joy all around. So the season does seem to say to us: You will be joyful! Joy is the reason for the season!
But
again to be honest, isn’t that a kind of forced joy? And isn’t it a disappointing joy – when you
look from a Christian perspective? From
that perspective what gives us joy comes from someplace else altogether. I want to tell you a kind of Advent
story. It’s about something that
happened here at St. Peter’s this past Monday.
Last
Monday we had a teaching Mass for those in RCIA. We went through the Mass with commentary explaining
why we do what we do. We ended about
8:40pm and I left to go home. Going out
the back door I came upon a homeless woman who was setting herself up in the
doorway for the night. I asked her if
she had tried to find a place in the women’s shelter. She said she had stayed at the women’s
shelter. But she added there are usually
a lot of younger women with their children at the shelter. Since she had a kind of virus that made her
cough a lot, she thought it better that she not expose the children to the
virus. Monday night was not too cold but
Tuesday was predicted to dip into the 20’s.
So I encouraged her to plan on staying at the shelter the next
night. Then I left.
I
kept thinking about that woman and her reason for not staying at the shelter: to protect the children from her virus. She was willing to spend the night outside –
out of care for the children. I thought
to myself: what a simply loving thing to
do! There and then I felt myself
immersed in the mystery of the Incarnation: God’s selfless love taking shape in human
form. There and then I felt joy in God’s
presence that had come to me through this homeless woman.
That
kind of joy comes as a gift – as sheer grace.
There can be no duty attached to it – no forced should – just gratitude
– a simple gratitude. That’s a new kind
of joy – a leap of the heart at what God is doing in our very midst. A new kind of joy – in God who is Immanuel
– joy in God who is truly with us. Oh
come, oh come, Immanuel!
Fr.
Pat Earl, SJ