Joy beyond compare

If celebrating the halfway mark helps boost our spirits, then Gaudete Sunday does just that. Therefore, let us rejoice not only because Christmas is near but also because we have persevered in preparing for the Lord’s coming.

This Sunday draws its name from the Latin Missal’s introit, which reads: “Gaudete in Domino semper,” meaning “Rejoice in the Lord always.” Besides the pink or rose of the candle and of the priestly vestments symbolising joy, the readings, imbued with a supernatural joy, help us bide our time to contemplate the Babe of Bethlehem.

However, can we really rejoice with the enveloping world of war, disease, corruption, climate change, suffering, and unrest? Will it be possible to rejoice only in Messianic times?

In the First Reading (35: 1-6a, 10), Isaiah speaks of the time when nature will rejoice and sing with strength at the coming of the Lord of Creation to save those who had longed for Him and suffered for the sake of His Holy Name.

On the other hand, we can experience joy even though we live in this valley of tears. It is not a superficial joy brought in with festoons, but a supernatural joy that comes with faith. This joy is not a mere sensation but an act of the will—not dependent on what we feel but on what we consciously wish to feel. Truly, Christian joy is guided by our conviction that God moves and controls all history; it is not contingent on the ups and downs of daily life. By His Incarnation, we know that He is there for us and saves us: easily a cause for rejoicing, isn’t it?

In the Second Reading (Jam 5: 7-10), the Apostle[1] addresses Christians of Jewish origin. It is more of a moral teaching than a doctrinal teaching. He preaches patience, akin to that of a farmer awaiting “the precious fruit of the earth,” or a woman expecting a baby. His wise counsel is to “establish your hearts”; to “not grumble against one another”; and to “take the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord” as role models. Simple yet effective advice. If we conduct ourselves in keeping with our faith and cultivate prudence and resignation, we will soon be on the highroad to holy joy.

Of joy, we have a harbinger in St. John the Baptist, one of the many prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord. In the Gospel (Mt 11: 2-11), Jesus says that John is “more than a prophet. This is he of whom it is written, ‘Behold, I send my messenger before Thy face, who shall prepare Thy way before Thee.’” Yet, the Forerunner of Christ, wanting to be doublesure, demands to know if Jesus is indeed the Messiah that they were waiting for. His humble ministry did not match that of the fiery, conquering Messiah expected by many.

For his part, the Messiah defines his scope of action and directs John’s gaze to how He (Jesus) fulfilled the Isaian prophecy. He had given sight to the blind and let the lame walk; He had cleansed the lepers, cured the deaf, and raised the dead. The poor in spirit acknowledged those wonders; others, finding no place for the Lord, went on from smugness to spiritual blindness and hard-heartedness.

Where do we stand? Do we realise that Jesus is the Messiah as announced by Isaiah and John? Are we poor in spirit? Do we acknowledge our spiritual need for God, like the poor shepherds did as they kept watch over their flocks by night? It is no wonder that they were chosen to be the first to hear the Good News and received it with joy.

Owing to the shepherds’ proverbial joy, the third candle of Advent is called the Shepherd’s Candle. As we light it today, may we receive the grace to be increasingly hopeful and better prepared to meet the Lord. Our joy will be beyond compare.

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[1] “Brother [cousin] of the Lord” (Gal 1: 19), a man of great reputation but barely mentioned in the Gospel. He began to believe in Jesus only after the Resurrection and a few years after Pentecost was a leader responsible for Christian communities having a majority of Jews in Palestine, Syria and Cilicia (present-day Turkey) (cf. Acts 15: 13-29) Of all the apostles, he was the most attached to Jewish traditions – the extreme opposite of St Paul.