GREAT JOY

A Sermon the 3rd Sunday of Advent

Pastor Laura Gentry

Zephaniah 3: 14-20

Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Let us begin with an Advent prayer written by the late Henri Nouwen:

Lord Jesus,

Master of both the light and the darkness,

send your Holy Spirit upon our preparations for Christmas.

We who have so much to do

seek quiet spaces to hear your voice each day.

We who are anxious over many things

look forward to your coming among us.

We who are blessed in so many ways

long for the complete joy of your kingdom.

We whose hearts are heavy

seek the joy of your presence.

We are your people, walking in darkness, yet seeking the light.

To you we say, “Come Lord Jesus!”

Amen.

This morning, we have come to the third Sunday in Advent. Our Advent wreath is glowing brighter, especially now with the addition of the pink candle of joy. It is beautiful to see how the light is growing on the wreath, for this light symbolizes how the light of Christ is coming into our world, into our darkness.

We are no stranger to this world’s darkness. The darkness is all around us. It is obvious this time of year as the dusk starts hovering before it’s even hit four o’clock. It reminds us of the darkness in our hearts. I read an article that said the number one stressor this season is finances. People stress themselves out wondering how they can afford the Christmas presents they are buying. Instead of focusing their hearts on the coming Christ child, they worry about financial matters.

The second biggest stress of the season, the article said, is grief. People think about the loved ones they have lost and how Christmas just isn’t the same without them. Many people become overwhelmed with loneliness this time of year.

I guess I’ve always known this, but this year I’m experiencing it myself. The first Advent season without my mother has been punctuated with moments where I sense the depth of my loss. I’m all but boycotting Christmas. I’m not putting up the big Christmas tree or decorating the house or sending cards and I haven’t been able to bring myself to buy present one. I know, as many of you do, the heaviness of grief this time of year.

And yet, it is precisely because of this heavy, complicated, human pain we bear that we are made aware of of our need for the growing light of Advent. It is because of our brokenness that we come to seek the light of Christ—a light we need more than we can express. We seek it with all our heart and soul and mind.

I was profoundly struck by something I read by Dietrich Bonhoeffer this week. Bonhoeffer was a German Lutheran pastor and theologian. He was also a participant in the German Resistance movement against Nazism during World War ll. He was subsequently arrested, imprisoned and eventually executed in 1945, shortly before the war's end. So here was a man who understood, firsthand, the terror of being in a prison cell. And here is what he wrote:

“A prison cell, in which one waits, hopes... and is completely dependent on the fact that the door of freedom has to be opened from the outside, is not a bad picture of Advent.”

The door of freedom must be opened from the outside. Bonhoeffer understood that our freedom is not in our own hands. The Advent message is that through we are traveling in the dark, our God has unveiled a plan for a bright future through Jesus Christ. It’s God’s plan, not ours. That’s why we can wait in hope and, yes, even in joy.

And this is what we hear in our scripture reading from Zephaniah for today. The prophet tells the people who sit in great darkness that the power of God is in the midst of them, bringing victory. These people have no reason to hope. Their land has been taken over by foreign invaders. Many live in exile. Their tears flow like the rivers of Babylon. Yet, they are given word that God will be like a mighty warrior in their midst. But this is not the kind of worldly power that we often think of when we hear the word “warrior”. There is such beautiful language used in this prophesy. We hear that God is “a warrior who gives victory; he will rejoice over you with gladness, he will renew you in his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.”

Rejoice over you with gladness. Renew you in God’s love. These are images that remind us more of a mother than a warrior. And the most beautiful image is that God will exult over you with loud singing.

The good news is that no matter how deep our despair, no matter how debilitating our grief, no matter how solid our prison walls, the door is being opened for us. The darkness is being drowned. The light—the pure, vibrant light we so desperately need—is dawning upon us. Yes, us.

Martin Luther preached that the Christmas message was really about us. In a famous Christmas sermon, he wrote:

“Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people; for there is born to you this day a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord.” In these words you clearly see that he is born FOR US. He does not simply say, Christ is born, but TO YOU is born; neither does he say, I bring glad tidings, but TO YOU I bring glad tidings of great joy. Furthermore, this joy was not to remain in Christ, but it shall be to ALL PEOPLE.

It is for us and for all people. Christ is born for us all. He will rejoice over us with singing. Great joy is coming. The door is opening from the outside. Do you believe it?

If you do, then the candle of joy can burn in your heart. May it burn brightly and overwhelm your darkness. Amen.

© 2009 Laura Gentry