Twice a year, during the liturgical seasons of penitence and preparation, that is: Lent, leading up to Easter and Advent leading up to Christmas, the Church bids us “Rejoice.”
This comes at the midpoint of both seasons, giving us Laetare Sunday in Lent and Gaudete Sunday in Advent, which we’re observing today. These two Latin words, both meaning to rejoice, come from the first words of the Introit, the Entrance Antiphon of Morning Prayer.
The Lenten Laetare is easy enough to grasp: “Rejoice! Lent is half over!” The Advent Laetare, however, presents more of a challenge. Here in the midst of a season where some people feel added stress… deepened alone-ness… the Church is suggesting we rejoice? Are we merely looking at the world through rose-colored vestments?
How, then, can we claim this Gaudete,
+ joy in the midst of real sorrow
+ calm in the midst of seasonal stress
+ intimacy and belonging in the midst of isolation?
In the Gospel of Midnight Mass, the angel of the Lord says to the shepherds, “Do not be afraid, for behold I proclaim to you good news of great joy: Today in the city of David, a Savior has been born for you who is Christ and Lord.”
This is the source of Gaudete: our Advent joy: remembering the story of the Birth of Our Lord as the dawn of our salvation… and not simply as a story of events which took place long ago and far away, but as a living Gospel reminding us that God fulfills His promises, and that the salvation promised us is living and active in our lives through the mode of Grace.
Looking closely at this Sunday’s observance, we can see three ways of experiencing “Gaudete” joy:
First:
The Prophet Isaiah gives us the criteria from which we can draw the conclusion that God is in our midst:
+ the eyes of the blind will be opened…
+ the ears of the deaf will be cleared…
+ the lame will leap like a stag…
+ the tongue of the mute will sing.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus points to the evidence of this in His public ministry so that St. John the Baptist’s messengers can report back to John that Jesus, indeed, is “He who is to come.” While these are all lovely images of the healing power of God: the blind seeing… the deaf hearing… the mute singing… they don’t always hit that close to home for us.
Perhaps speaking in more personal, more familiar images, the Lord’s promises to heal and renew will be more appealing and restorative:
+the misunderstood… will be appreciated
+the forgotten… will be remembered
+the unloved… will be cherished
+the guilty… will be forgiven
+the stressed… will be calmed
+the widowed… will be made whole again
+the abandoned… will be raised into the very arms of God.
As long as Christ is at the center of our lives, there may be struggle and sacrifice, but sorrow is redeemed by the Cross, sanctified by Him who shares our suffering, our crosses, with us.
“Those whom the Lord has ransomed,” says Isaiah, “will return and enter Zion singing; crowned with everlasting joy, they will meet with joy and gladness; sorrow and mourning will flee.”
Gaudete, then, is heartbreak turned to hope.
Secondly,
When the Christmas angel says to the shepherds, “Be not afraid,” Isaiah instructs us that we are to say this to one another, as he says, “Say to those whose hearts are frightened, 'Be strong! Fear not!’” and we’re not simply to say it, but to live it: to become a source of encouragement to one another.
Gaudete now becomes compassion, encouragement, and strength. It is charity personified. And yet, there is more —
Third:
In the next sentence, Isaiah identifies the source of our strength and renewal, our fear overcome, saying, “Here is your God, He comes with vindication, with divine recompense He comes to save you.” “Here is your God” — this means that He is present with intimacy and immediacy: right here… right now… not just the distant God of the heavens.
“He comes to save you.” — not just to heal you, but to save you, which is a greater gift. This means that salvation is God’s intention for us. Gaudete here is faith rewarded and strengthened.
This Advent invitation to rejoice, we now see, is rooted in the great Theological Virtues of Faith, Hope, and Charity, for without these, joy is limited to salutations as found in Christmas cards.
Thoughts of the Coming of Our Lord, then, will bring greater, deeper joy than the coming holiday looming large upon the horizon. So, don’t let the coming of Christmas become overwhelming and burdensome.
Take as words of encouragement, strength, and gladness, the words of Saint James: “Make you hearts firm, because the Coming of the Lord is at hand.”