Gaudete

“And they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy” Matt. 2:10

“What makes you happy?”  It’s a pretty common question.  A better one might be “What gives you Joy?”

How would you answer that?

Today is Gaudete Sunday in the Christian tradition.  It is the Sunday of Rejoicing, denoted by the pink candle on the Advent Wreath.

The Celtic Christians placed a high priority on joy, not only during Christmas but throughout the year.  They were comfortable openly and unabashedly expressing their joy.  One of the common occurrences set aside to do so was called the Ceilidh, an event where the community would come together to sing and dance and tell stories.  It was one of my favorite occasions during my time spent living at Iona.

It can be very challenging to be joyful during the dark seasons of life.  Life can and often-times is quite hard, not only during Covid times but during others as well.  Therefore, we might need to be even more intentional in seeking to infuse our solemnity with joy.  That seems to be what the magi did when they came into the presence of the child Jesus.  No doubt theirs had been a very arduous journey. It’s difficult for us to even imagine the danger and depravity they encountered on their way to Jerusalem.  T.S. Elliot perhaps captured part of their struggle for the modern imagination in his poem “Journey of the Magi”.

 “A cold coming we had of it, just the worst time of year

For a journey, and such a long journey:

The ways deep and the weather sharp,

The very dead of winter.

And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,

Lying down in the melting snow.

There were times we regretted . . .”

The journey ended for them in joy. Not just the joy of being in the presence of the Christ child, but in Elliot’s poem the joy of having their lives changed and thus “being glad of another death.”

What is it that gives you joy on what might be a challenging life journey?  Seasons of sorrow can fall on us unexpectedly.  In the midst of the sad times of our lives, the holidays being some of the difficult, it might appear nigh unto impossible to see joy.  At times it requires an extra dose of diligence and deliberality.[1]

“Surprised by Joy” is the autobiography of C.S. Lewis.  The title is based on a poem by William Wordsworth which was written as a consequence of Wordsworth having a moment when the pain of the death of his daughter was replaced by joy.  Later in his life Lewis, perhaps not so ironically, met and married a woman named Joy.  He would experience the sorrow and sadness of her death, which he recounts in the book entitled “A Grief Observed.”  In the midst of their grief both of these great writers found times of joy which not only provided comfort and consolation, but also meaning in and for their lives. 

Sometimes, perhaps many times, the journey to joy is a long and difficult one, and requires a dedicated seeking and searching, like it did for the Magi.  But like every journey in life it begins with small steps, and requires a deeper sense of seeing and perceiving.  It was not just a baby they found in Nazareth—it was THE baby.  At that moment they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy. 

Already this morning I experienced many joyful moments.  A cup of Christmas coffee not coincidentally in a cup that says “Joy”.  A choir singing a song about Santa Lucia sent to me by my friend Britt from Sweden on FB messenger.  The discovery of a delightful playlist on Spotify entitled “Lullabies for Love:  A Celtic Collection”.  A warm house to shelter me from the 10 degree fahrenheit temperature outside.  Silence and solitude that made room for memories of people and events of Christmas past.   All of which prompted me to experience joy as I wrote about joy.  I wonder what would you write about?  What would comprise your poem?  One need not be a T.S. Elliot, C.S. Lewis or William Wordsworth to do so.  One only need be human and have experienced the difficulties of life as well as the delights waiting to be discovered.  Like the Christ hidden in a boy named Jesus; or the gifts of joy concealed well in Christmas, wrapped in packaging of our lives, waiting to be revealed.

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[1] A word I made up meaning “being intentionally deliberate”.