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In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

It is easier to say “rejoice” than to actually do it. Maybe that’s why Paul has to say it to the Philippians twice: “Rejoice in the Lord always. I’ll say it again: rejoice.” Or, as one songwriter put it: “We should rejoice/but we probably won’t” (Lee Bozeman, “We Should Rejoice/Burning Paradise”). It’s easier said than done.

Especially with what comes naturally to us: to be sad when things are going badly, and to be happy when things are going well. And then we think that rejoicing is pretty much the same as being happy. And how can you rejoice when you don’t feel like it?

Today is “Rejoicing Sunday,” or, if you like Latin, “Gaudete.” It comes from the antiphon for the Introit, which is from Philippians 4. For Rejoicing Sunday, we light a pink, or rose, candle. It might be a little hard to see why now, but Advent used to be a much more penitential season, like Lent. But we’ve lightened it up a bit. Instead of a blue Christmas, we’ll have a blue Advent. But when it was like Lent, halfway through the season we got a little relief from all the penitence: Rejoice.

But it’s still not the same as just “being happy.” Think about the people in our readings for today, for Rejoicing Sunday: consider John. He’s in prison, and he’s not getting out. He’s going to be beheaded. After months in prison, he sends two of his disciples as messengers to Jesus. And they are to ask Jesus, and they do ask Jesus: “Are you the one for whom we have been waiting, or should we look for another? Should we keep waiting?” Some people want to protect John’s piety or his steadfast faith, and they say that he just wants his disciples to believe in Jesus. That’s why he sends them, not because he’s having any doubts. Now, John certainly wants his disciples to believe in Jesus. He points to Jesus and says, “Look! The Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world!” But there is no reason why John might not be struggling a bit in prison. Sure, he may hear of the things that Jesus is doing, but Isaiah also prophesies that the Messiah will open the doors and set the prisoners free, and John is still there. But, Jesus says, blessed is the one who is not offended at Me; who does not fall away because what he sees in Me is not what he expected to see; who does not fall away when the things you expect to happen, or you expect Jesus to do, don’t happen, or don’t happen in the time or the way you think they ought to happen. Rejoice, John. I’ll say it again: rejoice.

Or consider Judah and Jerusalem at the time of Zephaniah the prophet. Most of Zephaniah’s prophecy is not happy. Through the prophet, God says that He will sweep away everything on earth; people and animals, especially the worshipers of false gods. The Day of the Lord is coming, He says, and it’s going to be darkness, not light; a day of wrath, of clouds and thick darkness, of ruin and devastation. Babylon is coming and neither the city nor the temple is going to be spared. But, nevertheless: rejoice, Jerusalem; rejoice, Judah. I’ll say it again: rejoice.

Rejoicing cannot be tied directly to our circumstances, or what’s happening around us. Otherwise, Paul wouldn’t be able to write to the Romans that they rejoice in their sufferings. What have you brought in here with you today? What destruction, what devastation, what ruin? What darkness is in your heart? What did you expect Jesus to do for you, and you haven’t seen it yet? What prison walls or bars rise around you? It might be in your life, in your family; it might be because of your classes, or your job search. It might be that Christmas-time brings with it memories that you’d rather leave behind. It might be simply what is going on in the world.

But neither can rejoicing be tied simply to our happiness, if things are going well with your life, your job, your classes, your family. Some people think that’s what church is about: a place where we all come with smiles on our faces, pretending everything is great and nice and perfect. But Paul does not say “Rejoice when you feel like it, and if you don’t feel like it, fix that, and then you can rejoice.” He does not tie our rejoicing to anything in our lives, or in the world, or what’s happening around us, or to us. He says, “Rejoice in the Lord” and “rejoice in the Lord always.” At all times, and in all places.

What Jesus said of His generation is true of ours: To what shall I compare this generation? It is like children calling to each other in the marketplace: I played the flute for you, but you did not dance. I played a happy song, but you weren’t happy. I played a dirge, a lament, for you, but you did not weep. I played a sad song, but you weren’t sad. We can see this most clearly at a funeral. The world doesn’t want funerals. Funerals are sad, and they remind us a little too much of death. The world wants “celebrations of life,” where we celebrate the person, and remember all the good things about the past. But the Church refuses to deny what is right in front of our eyes: a casket or an urn, full of a person who used to be alive. The wages of sin is certainly still death. But Christian funerals are not just to point out what everyone knows, that this person has died, about grieving that disruption of God’s original good will, of life for His people and His creation. They are also about rejoicing in the victory of Christ over sin and death, by His own death and resurrection. So the world wants a celebration of life, playing happy songs and thinking happy thoughts, and the Church does not dance. And the world plays the dirge of sadness over the fact that death is the full and final end of people, but the Church refuses to weep over that, because we rejoice in the victory of resurrection, which actually is the full and final word.

How could John rejoice, in prison, about to die? Because Jesus is the resurrection and the life, and John knew that prisons and executioners can’t stop Jesus from raising the dead. How could Judah and Jerusalem rejoice, knowing that they were about to swept away into Babylon on the dark and ruinous Day of the Lord? Because Judah would return. But more than that, as Zephaniah tells them, Yahweh is in their midst now, even as Babylon approaches, even while they’re in the midst of Babylon. He has made a promise, and because of that promise, they should rejoice. Because God rejoices over them! God is the Mighty One who will Yahshoa them, who will save them. He is glad and rejoices over them. He will quiet them by His love, and renew them in that love. God sings and rejoices over them! How can you rejoice, whether things are going well or badly? Because the God who took flesh, to whom John sent messengers, is in your midst. He loves you and rejoices over you! His joy and gladness is in you, because you are in Christ. He has brought that promise of God near to you, and it does not depend on how you feel at the moment, what is happening to you, or what is happening around you. These are objective realities, grounded in the crucified and resurrected flesh of Jesus, and not even your sin and idolatry can stop God from keeping His promise to you in Jesus, just as Judah and Jerusalem, even in their self-imposed exile, could not stop God from keeping His promise in Christ. He has taken away the judgments against you, and He will clear away your enemies. Fear not! Rejoice! The Lord is near, so bring your fears, anxieties, sin, death, and destruction to Him, with thanksgiving. Rejoice! I’ll say it again: rejoice in the Lord, always.

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. “And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7, ESV). Amen.

– Pr. Timothy Winterstein, 12/14/24