Foreshadowings of joy
In the northern hemisphere, it is getting darker. For those in far northern lands, it is dark all the time.
We know that this will pass and that after the solstice, we will have more and more light in our days.
Yet the gloom of these days can still hang heavily.
The diminishment of daylight, however, is not the only darkness afflicting our world.
There is the darkness of violence, terror and oppression.
There is the darkness of unbelief: a cancer that gnaws at the hope and rationality of society.
There is the darkness of uncertainty about the future: a darkness of fear and futility that sucks the life out of our present.
And in the midst of all these darknesses, the message of the Church on this third Sunday of Advent is very simple: expressed succinctly by the Apostle Paul in today's second reading (Philippians 4:4-7).
Rejoice in the Lord always.
What? We might ask. Is he nuts? Doesn't he know what's going on? Doesn't he know how bad things are?
The short answer is: yes, Paul knows how scary and painful life can be. He is writing this letter from prison and is being threatened with death.
I shall say it again: rejoice!
How can he say this in the midst of such much suffering and uncertainty?
How can there be joy?
St. Paul proceeds to map out the way to joy. First he says
Your kindness should be known to all.
There are multiple levels to this: first, that we need to recognize the good that we have done and the good that we do, not to let the eyes of our minds be filled only with the darkness, but to keep also in view the ways we have brought light to the world; second, that acts of kindness, considerateness, fairness, and mercy do indeed bring light and joy to the world.
Perhaps these little lights of Christian charity may not seem like much in the face of some of the things that are going on right now, but in the deepest, darkest pit, even the tiniest light can bring a touch of sweetness to our soul, a rekindling of hope in our heart, and even a faint aroma of joy... if only we open our eyes.
The Lord is near.
Again, so many levels!
The Lord is near. When we act in Christian charity and do deeds of kindness, the Lord is near (ubi caritas et amor, Deus ibi est).
The Lord is near. No matter what may be happening right now, it will come to an end and God will turn all our sorrows into a joy beyond our imagining in his own time and in his own way (Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus!)
The Lord is near. A young Jewish girl and her husband are making their way slowly to a small town in the territory of the West Bank. The squalor of an animal enclosure awaits them. Yet in the midst of that squalor and humiliation, something wonderful will happen (Veni, veni, Emmanuel).
Have no anxiety at all,
but in everything,
by prayer and petition,
with thanksgiving,
make your requests known to God.
The path to joy requires us to place ourselves in the hands of God: or rather, to recognize that we are indeed in the hands of God.
Prayer, petition and thanksgiving do not help God (he is omniscient and omnipotent, after all), but prayer, petition and thanksgiving reaffirm in us (in our hearts, in our minds, and in our souls) both the need for God and the reality of God in our lives.
Then the peace of God
that surpasses all understanding
will guard your hearts and minds
in Christ Jesus.
All is not well with the world, but the Lord of all goodness is near and no matter what darkness may hover upon us, God offers us foreshadowings of joy: foretastes of the dazzling and infinitely sumptuous banquet that he is preparing for his faithful ones.
The Lord is near....
I shall say it again, rejoice!
We know that this will pass and that after the solstice, we will have more and more light in our days.
Yet the gloom of these days can still hang heavily.
The diminishment of daylight, however, is not the only darkness afflicting our world.
There is the darkness of violence, terror and oppression.
There is the darkness of unbelief: a cancer that gnaws at the hope and rationality of society.
There is the darkness of uncertainty about the future: a darkness of fear and futility that sucks the life out of our present.
And in the midst of all these darknesses, the message of the Church on this third Sunday of Advent is very simple: expressed succinctly by the Apostle Paul in today's second reading (Philippians 4:4-7).
Rejoice in the Lord always.
What? We might ask. Is he nuts? Doesn't he know what's going on? Doesn't he know how bad things are?
The short answer is: yes, Paul knows how scary and painful life can be. He is writing this letter from prison and is being threatened with death.
I shall say it again: rejoice!
How can he say this in the midst of such much suffering and uncertainty?
How can there be joy?
St. Paul proceeds to map out the way to joy. First he says
Your kindness should be known to all.
There are multiple levels to this: first, that we need to recognize the good that we have done and the good that we do, not to let the eyes of our minds be filled only with the darkness, but to keep also in view the ways we have brought light to the world; second, that acts of kindness, considerateness, fairness, and mercy do indeed bring light and joy to the world.
Perhaps these little lights of Christian charity may not seem like much in the face of some of the things that are going on right now, but in the deepest, darkest pit, even the tiniest light can bring a touch of sweetness to our soul, a rekindling of hope in our heart, and even a faint aroma of joy... if only we open our eyes.
The Lord is near.
Again, so many levels!
The Lord is near. When we act in Christian charity and do deeds of kindness, the Lord is near (ubi caritas et amor, Deus ibi est).
The Lord is near. No matter what may be happening right now, it will come to an end and God will turn all our sorrows into a joy beyond our imagining in his own time and in his own way (Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus!)
The Lord is near. A young Jewish girl and her husband are making their way slowly to a small town in the territory of the West Bank. The squalor of an animal enclosure awaits them. Yet in the midst of that squalor and humiliation, something wonderful will happen (Veni, veni, Emmanuel).
Have no anxiety at all,
but in everything,
by prayer and petition,
with thanksgiving,
make your requests known to God.
The path to joy requires us to place ourselves in the hands of God: or rather, to recognize that we are indeed in the hands of God.
Prayer, petition and thanksgiving do not help God (he is omniscient and omnipotent, after all), but prayer, petition and thanksgiving reaffirm in us (in our hearts, in our minds, and in our souls) both the need for God and the reality of God in our lives.
Then the peace of God
that surpasses all understanding
will guard your hearts and minds
in Christ Jesus.
All is not well with the world, but the Lord of all goodness is near and no matter what darkness may hover upon us, God offers us foreshadowings of joy: foretastes of the dazzling and infinitely sumptuous banquet that he is preparing for his faithful ones.
The Lord is near....
I shall say it again, rejoice!
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