Readings:
Zep 3:14-18a
Is 12:2-3, 4, 5-6.
Phil 4:4-7
Lk 3:10-18
It’s rare that looking at things with rose-colored glasses is considered a positive thing. We use that expression to dismiss the one whose happy attitude doesn’t seem to allow them to see the problems and pain, the deception and dire straits we clearly know we are all mired in. We talk about someone with rose-colored glasses as living in la-la land, ignoring the fears and heartaches that the rest of us struggle with.
We can’t help having a gut feeling that somehow a pair of rose-colored glasses is being handed to us today. In the short, grey days of December here in the northern hemisphere, in the daily news of war and strife, hunger and displacement, greed and hate, with the frenzy of our holiday and end of the year deadlines, we are blasted with joy this Sunday. The opening antiphon of the Missal, “Gaudete in Domino (Rejoice in the Lord)” sets the tone, sung in a liturgical space perhaps draped in rose cloth as we watch a rose candle flicker on our advent wreaths. And joy resounds right through our scripture passages.
Despite the distress and woe, joy is precisely what we celebrate today: an effusive joy that pours from the pages of our lectionary into our ears. Rejoice! The Lord is near in both time and space. In the middle of Advent, in this pivot from contemplating the last things to celebrating a first thing, we are asked to don rose-colored glasses not to ignore what is going on in our world, but to consider what change the joy of God’s nearness to us might bring to our vision.
Joy flows from Zephaniah’s visions. We pick up after Zephaniah has detailed the people’s sin and indifference, the hypocrisy and idolatry of their day, letting them know that the Day of the Lord is going to hold them accountable. Yet, Zephaniah maintains that the fearsome Day of the Lord is not only judgment but surprisingly a cause for joy. The call for judgment allows them to chart a new course, a new future. That is a reason for joy. “Your God is in your midst,” the One who is always merciful and loving.
Still having in our ears the lyrics of Isaiah’s canticle—the one who spoke of Emmanuel, God with us, the Great and Holy One in our midst—we hear Paul, writing from the pain of prison, asking us to let the joy in our ears pour more deeply into our hearts. Because Paul knows that Christ Jesus is near, one with him, that he lives for Christ and Christ in him, the sufferings Paul experiences are suffused by hope in the resurrection to eternal life. This conviction of joy should penetrate our hearts so that anxiety might give way to peace—not just our daily worries that come and go, but the anxiety that can imprison us, gripping us so tightly we can’t see a way out. That’s the peace that seems beyond understanding when we are captive in anxiety. The peace of Christ risen from the dead in our hearts assures us in our prayer, steadies us in our daily steps, and lets us act with a kindness that makes others take notice that we too are in Christ Jesus.
The joy that pours into our ears and penetrates our hearts needs to animate our actions. John the Baptist, who came to us last week preaching the baptism of repentance, is challenged by his hearers today. The urgency of recognizing that the Lord is in our midst should spur us to ask, “What should we do?” If the day is at hand, we want to be ready! John urges the crowd to look at daily life in a new way: share what is essential to living so that all can be protected, have something to eat and a place to eat it. John doesn’t ask for extraordinary things from the tax collectors, either: You don’t need to abandon your job, just do it justly. And to the soldiers, who properly should be using their authority to ensure order not exploitation, he says: Don’t give in. Don’t give in to the violence, the setups, the use of power to crush the weak. This is what metanoia—conversion—looks like. John preaches a conversion of attitude and action that flows from a deep change in how we see our relationships with others because the Holy One is in our midst.
So, rejoice! Put on those rose-colored glasses today, not to avoid the pain but to see it transfigured by hope in the Great and Holy One who is, who was, and who is to come. Rejoice because the coming of the Lord is near. We meet him not only in the Banquet of the Eucharist, but in the one needing a welcome place and just a bite to eat; in our prayer for those facing difficulty; in our striving to act with mercy; and, ultimately, in our passing from this world. If we have this steadfast faith that the Lord is always near, then our lives are flooded with joy and exultation! Is there anything more joyful than meeting the Lord Jesus Christ? He is our joy, he is our future, he is eternal life!
Richard E. McCarron, PhD