Deacon Ray Ortman

Today we light the third candle on the Advent wreath.  The candle of joy. The Advent wreath is a wonderful visual for us of our progress through Advent, and indeed of our progress in the Christian life. We begin with the wreath itself.  Its circular shape and its composition of evergreen branches woven together signify the eternity of God, who is without either beginning or end, and of the promise of life everlasting. Within that eternity, however, we experience a progression through time.  A progression marked — and in some sense achieved — by the retreat of darkness in the face of the gathering brightness of the light.  Or as John’s Gospel puts it, the unfolding victory of the light of Christ over darkness. We mark our Advent entry into the light of Christ with the first candle — the candle of Hope.  But what are we hoping for?  This is perhaps our most pressing existential question: what do people hope for?  What do we hope for?  One answer is to embrace the theme of light and to answer that what people in the darkness most hope for is light.  And that is true.  But then what is light?  I think the most satisfactory answer comes from Genesis 1:4  Light is Good: good in its opposition to darkness, but good even more in that it was the first emanation of God’s glory. 

So, in a sense, we hope for that which is supremely Good, that which is God.  Of course, that’s a theological answer.  More secular or situationally-oriented people might express a hope for more of this or less of that.  More money, more power, more happiness.  Less poverty, less suffering, less fear.  Implicit in their calculus is hope for more of a good thing and for less of a bad thing. So it was that the priests and Pharisees came to John in today’s Gospel.  They wanted to know if he was preaching something they thought was good or if he was a threat.  Problem is they were blinded by their comfortable circumstances from being open to a better way, so the Christ that John preached was not their kind of hope, not good news to them.  It’s often like that for the rich and the powerful. Isaiah’s prophecy, announced anew by John, offered a different and better hope, a hope for not just more (money, power) or less (poverty, suffering) but for something better: different not only in degree but also in kind.  Something new and wonderful! 

Last week, we lit the second candle, the candle of Faith.  Faith is an act of preparation to receive that which we hope for.  Hebrews 11 puts it this way:  Faith is the realization of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.  Without faith in God, we cannot realize the ultimate good for which we hope.  But with faith, we already really possess that for which we hope.  Again we have the example of John the Baptist.  Last week he cried out to prepare the way of the Lord.  And by faith in the promises of God, in the messianic promise of redemption, the people came to him to be baptized so that they would be ready to receive the Holy One of God who would save them.  But not so the priests and Pharisees in today’s Gospel.  They came not in belief but in unbelief, to challenge John’s preaching. 

Today, we light the third candle, the candle of Joy.  Joy is the natural result of Hope realized by Faith.  It is the experience of intense delight that by faith our deepest longings and hopes have been and are being realized for us.  The time of darkness and fear is over!  The reign of sin and death is undone!  Saint Paul tells us that rejoicing ought to be the natural disposition of all Christians at all times. In this, it is important to distinguish between joy and happiness.  Happiness is the great feeling that you get when everything is going smoothly.  There are no crises, we feel good, and we have enough money.  Happiness, in other words, is situationally dependent.  So it is impossible to always remain happy because life happens; things change, and not always to our liking.  Faith is no assurance of happiness, health or prosperity.  To the contrary, the walk of faith often involves poverty, pain and suffering. 

But joy is entirely different.  It does not depend upon us or our undulating circumstances.  It is found entirely in God’s goodness and of our embrace of that goodness in our lives.  And it is much more than a feeling.  C.S. Lewis called joy in this life an “unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction.”  For me, I would say that joy — true joy — is a taste of heaven in the here and now that leaves us both exhilarated by its exquisite goodness and at the same time wanting more.  As such, Joy takes no account of anything that is not eternal.  It is not subject to change or circumstances.  It is not at all diluted by the sufferings and travails of our lives as we experience them in our mortality.  But yet mysteriously our joy is enhanced by the goodness and the love that we encounter and that we create, because love is eternal.  And the imperturbability of joy in Christ is such that we can rest peacefully in His arms, He who is the Prince of Peace.  Peace is the fourth candle of Advent. Scarcely a week remains for us to complete our Advent preparations this year.  But that is time enough to dispose our hearts to long for the coming of Jesus into our lives and into our world.  The inestimable goodness of God and His loving plan for us is far more than we could ever hope for or conceive for ourselves.  Not only more but infinitely better.  With Mary, let us give life and give birth to that Blessed Hope by Faith in the One who is ever Faithful and True.  And like Mary, may our hearts overflow with joy — no matter the difficult times that may lie ahead — that we may know Peace.