Oh Rose Color Candle Burning Brightly
(Joy: an Inside & Outside Job)
December 16, 2007, 3rd Sunday of Advent (Gaudete)
Isaiah 35:1-5 James 5:7-10 Matthew 11:2-11
To the church in the diaspora[1]
& to the church of the unchurched[2]
First reading
The desert will rejoice, and flowers will bloom in the wastelands. The desert will sing and shout for joy; it will be as beautiful as the mountains of Lebanon and fertile as the fields of Carmel and Sharon. Everyone will see the glory of the Lord, the splendor of our God. Strengthen the hands that are feeble, make firm the knees that are weak, say to those whose hearts are frightened: Be strong, fear not! Here is your God. He comes with vindication; with divine recompense. He comes to save you. Then will the eyes of the blind be opened, and the ears of the deaf be cleared. Then will the lame leap like a stag, and the tongue of the mute will sing. Those whom the Lord has ransomed will reach Jerusalem singing, crowned with everlasting joy. Joy and gladness will go with them, and sorrow and mourning will be ended.
Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to Matthew
Glory to you, Lord.
When John the Baptist heard in prison of the works of the Christ, he sent his disciples to Jesus with this question, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?” Jesus said to them in reply, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them. And give him this message, `Blessed are those who don’t doubt me.’”
As they were going off, Jesus began to speak to the crowds about John, “What did you go out to the desert to see? Were you expecting to see a reed swayed by the wind? Or someone dressed in fine clothing? Those bedecked in fine clothing dwell in royal palaces. Were you expecting to see a prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written: Behold, I am sending my messenger ahead of you; he will prepare your way before you. Amen, I say to you, among those born of women there has been none greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.”
The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
Introduction
Gaudete Sunday
There is a new Advent since Vatican II. It is no longer a season of penance but of joyful preparation for Christmas. What is not new is that the third Sunday of Advent still strikes a note of joy as it has for centuries.
On the third Sunday of Advent in liturgical Cycle C, the prophet Zephaniah exhorts the people saying, "Shout for joy, O daughter Zion! Sing joyfully, O Israel. The Lord, your God, is in your midst" (3:14‑18). In Cycle B, St. Paul exhorts us to, “Be joyful always, pray unceasingly and render constant thanks” (I Thess 5:16-18). In this year’s Cycle A, the prophet Isaiah promises that “The desert will rejoice, and flowers will bloom in the wastelands. The desert will sing and shout for joy; it will be as beautiful as the mountains of Lebanon and fertile as the fields of Carmel and Sharon” (Is 35:1-2).
In the second reading for Cycle C, St. Paul, sitting in prison and bound with chains, writes to the Philippians, “Gaudete in Domino semper! Iterum dico gaudete!” “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again, I tell you, rejoice” (Phil: 4:4)! Because that exhortation opened the old Latin Mass for centuries on the third Sunday of Advent, that Sunday came to be called Gaudete Sunday. On this Sunday, rose (the liturgical color of joy) may be used for the priest’s vestments instead of purple (the liturgical color for penance). Rose is also used for the third candle of the Advent wreath lighted on this Sunday which commands us to rejoice.
The command to rejoice, issued midway through Advent, made more sense in the old days when Advent was still a penitential season which had strict rules for fasting and abstaining, and which discouraged all celebrating in a formerly somber season. In those days it was natural to rejoice that the sober season of Advent was half-through, and that soon we would be allowed to intoxicate ourselves with the toys and joys of Christmas.
A command to rejoice?
In a psychological atmosphere which sings, “I want to be me,” we are inclined to frown upon any attempt to command our internal emotional states. If I am feeling glum for some reason, then glum I am going to feel, and do not tell me to smile “because God loves you.” If I want to go around grouching "Bah humbug!" like old Scrooge because something has gone wrong in my life, then that’s what I’m going to do, and do not tell me to cheer up. The psychological atmosphere of the day frowns on a command to rejoice, especially if someone is financially down and out or is battling cancer or is beset with some tragedy or is suffering some irretrievable loss.
On Gaudete Sunday the prophet Zephaniah does not frown on a command to rejoice. Speaking to refugees in a slum district of Jerusalem he commands them to, "Shout for joy, O daughter Zion! Sing joyfully, O Israel. The Lord, your God, is in your midst" (3:14‑18). On Gaudete Sunday St. Paul, sitting in prison and bound with chains, does not frown upon a command to rejoice. He writes to the Philippians, “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I say, rejoice! The Lord is near" (Phil 4:4).
Joy: an inside job
Zephaniah can tell a group of poor refugees to shout with joy because, as someone has profoundly said, “Joy is an inside job!” Paul, sitting in prison and bound in chains, can give the Philippians a command to rejoice (as he, a prisoner, was rejoicing) because “Joy is an inside job.” That is to say, joy is a personal decision.
We do not speak of the orgy of joy of the Christmas season. That kind of joy is tossed out on the curb with the Christmas tree on the 26th of December. That kind of joy is a capricious mood which is at the mercy of outside circumstances like getting the high tech toy we want for Christmas. That kind of joy is a willowy reed which is at the mercy of life’s benign and favorable winds.
Joy as an inside job does not depend on life’s benign and favorable winds. It depends on a decision we make. A decision not to be stuck in our losses or privations or irritations or diminutions or even our tragedies. To evoke the climate of December, joy is also a personal decision not to be snowbound by the unfortunate circumstances of life but to break through our snowdrifts and rise to the top and bloom there like daffodils in early spring.
A story about joy as an inside job
An e-mail received paints a perfect picture of joy as an inside job—as a decision.
A 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud lady is fully dressed each morning by eight o’clock. Her hair is fashionably coifed and her makeup perfectly applied (even though she’s legally blind). She moved to a nursing home today. Her 90-year-old husband died recently, and that made the move necessary. As she maneuvered her walker to the elevator, the nurse in charge gave her a kind of visual description and preview of her tiny room. “Oh, I love it,” she said with the enthusiasm of an eight year old having just received a new puppy as a Christmas gift. “Oh, but Mrs. Jones,” the nurse replied, “you haven’t seen your room yet. Just wait until you do! You’re going to be so happy.”
“That doesn’t have anything to do with it,” she replied. “Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn’t depend on what kind of furniture is in it or how it is arranged. It’s what’s in my mind and how that is arranged there that counts. I have already decided to be happy with my room. It’s a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice: I can spend the day in bed bemoaning the difficulties I have with parts of my body that no longer work, or I can get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do work. My recipe for joy and also for a long life is this: a) free your heart from hate; b) free your mind from unnecessary worry; c) live simply; d) give more and expect less.”
Joy as an inside job – as a personal decision to rise above birth and circumstances - is a mystery. Why does one person make a decision to stay in bed and bemoan the difficulties she has with the parts of her body that no longer work, while another decides to get up and coif herself fashionably and be grateful for the parts that do work? Why is it that old Scrooge, who has all the money he needs, makes a decision to grouch out “Bah Humbug” to his nephew, while his nephew, who has almost nothing at all, decides to sing out “Merry Christmas” to old Scrooge?
Joy: also an outside job
Joy is an inside job; it is a personal decision. But this is also true; joy at times is also an outside job. The reality on the ground forces us to admit that joy at times is also at the mercy of fortunate birth and circumstances which provide tender loving care, self-assurance and health of mind and body. That, often, is beyond personal decision. When fortunate birth and circumstances are missing (as they often are), then joy in this unfortunate valley of tears does not come easily. Then it needs help from outside. Then joy is also an outside job.
Joy does not come easily for me. I was not very fortunately born. That might have the ring of self-pity to it, but it also has the thud of cold hard truth which I have had to deal with all my life. I was born of poor Italian immigrants who came to this country at the start of the last century. They didn’t fare well here. Our mother, who couldn’t speak English, was taken from us at an early age. That left my sister and me as lost pound puppies. That left our father without a helpmate in a foreign land. That also robbed our house of a soul. No wonder joy does not come easily for me! No wonder a sheer personal decision for joy on my part is not enough for me! No wonder my joy needs help from outside.
Along the highway of my life, perceptive and compassionate people have given my joy the help it needs. And because of that, I am perceptive and compassionate enough to help, in turn, others whose joy also needs help.
Joy: an outside job for Robert Hawkins
Listen to the unfortunate birth of Robert Hawkins, a shaggy-haired, bespectacled lad of 19 years. On December 5, 2007, he opened fire at an Omaha, Nebraska, shopping mall. Killing eight people and wounding five others, he put an end to the joy of Christmas for countless families. Then he put a bullet to his head, and that put an end to his unfortunate birth and his joyless life spent in foster homes. After threatening to kill his stepmother in 2002, he spent four years in a series of treatment centers for youths with substance abuse or behavioral problems. A landlady called Hawkins a "lost pound puppy that nobody wanted." In a suicide note, in which he characterized himself as having snapped, he wrote, “I know everyone will remember me as some sort of monster, but please understand that I just don’t want to be a burden on the ones that I care for. I just want to take a few pieces of (expletive) with me.”
Joy for that unfortunate and troubled teenager needed outside help. He did not get it from all the agencies where the system sent him. Only perceptive and compassionate people, not agencies, could have given him the help that his joy needed. A relative, aghast at the mall massacre, remorsefully exclaimed,”Oh, if I had only perceived that he was calling for help!” It is so easy to get angry at this shaggy-haired and bespectacled lad of 19 years. It is so easy to take no stock of his sorrow and pain.
Joy: an outside job for Scrooge
At this time of the rolling year, when we pull out that great classic, Dicken’s Christmas Carol, it is also easy to get angry with old Scrooge for his miserliness and his grumpy “Bah, Humbug.” Few of us take stock of his sorrow and pain. In the frigid spooky darkness of winter at midnight, the Ghost of Christmas Past carries the old man back to his childhood and back to an old classroom emptied by the Christmas season. There old Scrooge sees himself sitting alone as a lost pound puppy, neglected by family and friends, and there he weeps for his poor sorry self.
That was what the “Bah, Humbug” in his life was all about. Scrooge was mired down in his sad childhood. He was snowbound by his less than fortunate birth. His anger at life “nipped his pointed nose, shriveled his cheeks, stiffened his gait, reddened his eyes and made his thin lips blue” (Christmas Carol). Had he been living in our present day, old Scrooge might have never grown old at all, but as an angry young man might have taken himself to a mall to even things off concerning his unfortunate birth and to exit this life with the front-page attention which he had never gotten before.
Joy for old Scrooge needed help from outside. In fact, it was in such dire need that it needed help not only from outside but also from Above! It needed divine help! It got the help it needed from the three Ghosts of Christmas: Past, Present and Future. As the curtain goes up on the Christmas Carol, old Scrooge is not shooting up the place with a sawed-off shotgun, but he is grouching “Bah, Humbug,” and he is boiling people in their own pudding and piercing their hearts with stakes of holly (Christmas Carol). But as the curtain is going down, there is a new Scrooge whose joy has been helped by the three Spirits of Christmas. He is jumping up and down with joy in his heart and tears in his eyes, and he is shouting out a promise to all that he will honor Christmas in his heart and keep it all year round (Christmas Carol).
Conclusion
Oh rose color candle burning brightly
We are not all like that 92-year-old petite lady who perhaps was very fortunately born. In her old age joy was not an easy job, but it was, indeed, an inside job for her. She made a decision for it. Because of unfortunate birth and circumstances, many of us are not as deft at joy as she was. For many of us our joy needs help. Gaudete Sunday commands us, for whom joy comes hard, to seek the outside help that it needs. We seek that help by sharing our problem and pain with someone. That could have saved Hawkins from snapping and going to a shopping mall to resolve his depression and isolation.
Gaudete Sunday commands us to “Rejoice in the Lord always.” That’s also a command to recognize when our joy, or the joy of another, is crying for help. That’s a command for us to come to the aid of that hurting joy.
Oh, rose color candle burning brightly on Gaudete Sunday in the darkness of our commercial Christmas season remind us of the decision for joy we must all strive for. Attune us also to ourselves and others when the lack of joy might be calling for help.
[1] Diaspora is a Greek word meaning dispersion. Originally it referred to the settling of scattered colonies of Jews outside Palestine after the Babylonian exile. It’s now come to mean the migration or scattering of a people away from an established or ancestral homeland or parish!
[2]] By the “the unchurched” is especially meant not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!
(Joy: an Inside & Outside Job)
December 16, 2007, 3rd Sunday of Advent (Gaudete)
Isaiah 35:1-5 James 5:7-10 Matthew 11:2-11
To the church in the diaspora[1]
& to the church of the unchurched[2]
First reading
The desert will rejoice, and flowers will bloom in the wastelands. The desert will sing and shout for joy; it will be as beautiful as the mountains of Lebanon and fertile as the fields of Carmel and Sharon. Everyone will see the glory of the Lord, the splendor of our God. Strengthen the hands that are feeble, make firm the knees that are weak, say to those whose hearts are frightened: Be strong, fear not! Here is your God. He comes with vindication; with divine recompense. He comes to save you. Then will the eyes of the blind be opened, and the ears of the deaf be cleared. Then will the lame leap like a stag, and the tongue of the mute will sing. Those whom the Lord has ransomed will reach Jerusalem singing, crowned with everlasting joy. Joy and gladness will go with them, and sorrow and mourning will be ended.
Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to Matthew
Glory to you, Lord.
When John the Baptist heard in prison of the works of the Christ, he sent his disciples to Jesus with this question, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?” Jesus said to them in reply, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them. And give him this message, `Blessed are those who don’t doubt me.’”
As they were going off, Jesus began to speak to the crowds about John, “What did you go out to the desert to see? Were you expecting to see a reed swayed by the wind? Or someone dressed in fine clothing? Those bedecked in fine clothing dwell in royal palaces. Were you expecting to see a prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written: Behold, I am sending my messenger ahead of you; he will prepare your way before you. Amen, I say to you, among those born of women there has been none greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.”
The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
Introduction
Gaudete Sunday
There is a new Advent since Vatican II. It is no longer a season of penance but of joyful preparation for Christmas. What is not new is that the third Sunday of Advent still strikes a note of joy as it has for centuries.
On the third Sunday of Advent in liturgical Cycle C, the prophet Zephaniah exhorts the people saying, "Shout for joy, O daughter Zion! Sing joyfully, O Israel. The Lord, your God, is in your midst" (3:14‑18). In Cycle B, St. Paul exhorts us to, “Be joyful always, pray unceasingly and render constant thanks” (I Thess 5:16-18). In this year’s Cycle A, the prophet Isaiah promises that “The desert will rejoice, and flowers will bloom in the wastelands. The desert will sing and shout for joy; it will be as beautiful as the mountains of Lebanon and fertile as the fields of Carmel and Sharon” (Is 35:1-2).
In the second reading for Cycle C, St. Paul, sitting in prison and bound with chains, writes to the Philippians, “Gaudete in Domino semper! Iterum dico gaudete!” “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again, I tell you, rejoice” (Phil: 4:4)! Because that exhortation opened the old Latin Mass for centuries on the third Sunday of Advent, that Sunday came to be called Gaudete Sunday. On this Sunday, rose (the liturgical color of joy) may be used for the priest’s vestments instead of purple (the liturgical color for penance). Rose is also used for the third candle of the Advent wreath lighted on this Sunday which commands us to rejoice.
The command to rejoice, issued midway through Advent, made more sense in the old days when Advent was still a penitential season which had strict rules for fasting and abstaining, and which discouraged all celebrating in a formerly somber season. In those days it was natural to rejoice that the sober season of Advent was half-through, and that soon we would be allowed to intoxicate ourselves with the toys and joys of Christmas.
A command to rejoice?
In a psychological atmosphere which sings, “I want to be me,” we are inclined to frown upon any attempt to command our internal emotional states. If I am feeling glum for some reason, then glum I am going to feel, and do not tell me to smile “because God loves you.” If I want to go around grouching "Bah humbug!" like old Scrooge because something has gone wrong in my life, then that’s what I’m going to do, and do not tell me to cheer up. The psychological atmosphere of the day frowns on a command to rejoice, especially if someone is financially down and out or is battling cancer or is beset with some tragedy or is suffering some irretrievable loss.
On Gaudete Sunday the prophet Zephaniah does not frown on a command to rejoice. Speaking to refugees in a slum district of Jerusalem he commands them to, "Shout for joy, O daughter Zion! Sing joyfully, O Israel. The Lord, your God, is in your midst" (3:14‑18). On Gaudete Sunday St. Paul, sitting in prison and bound with chains, does not frown upon a command to rejoice. He writes to the Philippians, “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I say, rejoice! The Lord is near" (Phil 4:4).
Joy: an inside job
Zephaniah can tell a group of poor refugees to shout with joy because, as someone has profoundly said, “Joy is an inside job!” Paul, sitting in prison and bound in chains, can give the Philippians a command to rejoice (as he, a prisoner, was rejoicing) because “Joy is an inside job.” That is to say, joy is a personal decision.
We do not speak of the orgy of joy of the Christmas season. That kind of joy is tossed out on the curb with the Christmas tree on the 26th of December. That kind of joy is a capricious mood which is at the mercy of outside circumstances like getting the high tech toy we want for Christmas. That kind of joy is a willowy reed which is at the mercy of life’s benign and favorable winds.
Joy as an inside job does not depend on life’s benign and favorable winds. It depends on a decision we make. A decision not to be stuck in our losses or privations or irritations or diminutions or even our tragedies. To evoke the climate of December, joy is also a personal decision not to be snowbound by the unfortunate circumstances of life but to break through our snowdrifts and rise to the top and bloom there like daffodils in early spring.
A story about joy as an inside job
An e-mail received paints a perfect picture of joy as an inside job—as a decision.
A 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud lady is fully dressed each morning by eight o’clock. Her hair is fashionably coifed and her makeup perfectly applied (even though she’s legally blind). She moved to a nursing home today. Her 90-year-old husband died recently, and that made the move necessary. As she maneuvered her walker to the elevator, the nurse in charge gave her a kind of visual description and preview of her tiny room. “Oh, I love it,” she said with the enthusiasm of an eight year old having just received a new puppy as a Christmas gift. “Oh, but Mrs. Jones,” the nurse replied, “you haven’t seen your room yet. Just wait until you do! You’re going to be so happy.”
“That doesn’t have anything to do with it,” she replied. “Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn’t depend on what kind of furniture is in it or how it is arranged. It’s what’s in my mind and how that is arranged there that counts. I have already decided to be happy with my room. It’s a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice: I can spend the day in bed bemoaning the difficulties I have with parts of my body that no longer work, or I can get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do work. My recipe for joy and also for a long life is this: a) free your heart from hate; b) free your mind from unnecessary worry; c) live simply; d) give more and expect less.”
Joy as an inside job – as a personal decision to rise above birth and circumstances - is a mystery. Why does one person make a decision to stay in bed and bemoan the difficulties she has with the parts of her body that no longer work, while another decides to get up and coif herself fashionably and be grateful for the parts that do work? Why is it that old Scrooge, who has all the money he needs, makes a decision to grouch out “Bah Humbug” to his nephew, while his nephew, who has almost nothing at all, decides to sing out “Merry Christmas” to old Scrooge?
Joy: also an outside job
Joy is an inside job; it is a personal decision. But this is also true; joy at times is also an outside job. The reality on the ground forces us to admit that joy at times is also at the mercy of fortunate birth and circumstances which provide tender loving care, self-assurance and health of mind and body. That, often, is beyond personal decision. When fortunate birth and circumstances are missing (as they often are), then joy in this unfortunate valley of tears does not come easily. Then it needs help from outside. Then joy is also an outside job.
Joy does not come easily for me. I was not very fortunately born. That might have the ring of self-pity to it, but it also has the thud of cold hard truth which I have had to deal with all my life. I was born of poor Italian immigrants who came to this country at the start of the last century. They didn’t fare well here. Our mother, who couldn’t speak English, was taken from us at an early age. That left my sister and me as lost pound puppies. That left our father without a helpmate in a foreign land. That also robbed our house of a soul. No wonder joy does not come easily for me! No wonder a sheer personal decision for joy on my part is not enough for me! No wonder my joy needs help from outside.
Along the highway of my life, perceptive and compassionate people have given my joy the help it needs. And because of that, I am perceptive and compassionate enough to help, in turn, others whose joy also needs help.
Joy: an outside job for Robert Hawkins
Listen to the unfortunate birth of Robert Hawkins, a shaggy-haired, bespectacled lad of 19 years. On December 5, 2007, he opened fire at an Omaha, Nebraska, shopping mall. Killing eight people and wounding five others, he put an end to the joy of Christmas for countless families. Then he put a bullet to his head, and that put an end to his unfortunate birth and his joyless life spent in foster homes. After threatening to kill his stepmother in 2002, he spent four years in a series of treatment centers for youths with substance abuse or behavioral problems. A landlady called Hawkins a "lost pound puppy that nobody wanted." In a suicide note, in which he characterized himself as having snapped, he wrote, “I know everyone will remember me as some sort of monster, but please understand that I just don’t want to be a burden on the ones that I care for. I just want to take a few pieces of (expletive) with me.”
Joy for that unfortunate and troubled teenager needed outside help. He did not get it from all the agencies where the system sent him. Only perceptive and compassionate people, not agencies, could have given him the help that his joy needed. A relative, aghast at the mall massacre, remorsefully exclaimed,”Oh, if I had only perceived that he was calling for help!” It is so easy to get angry at this shaggy-haired and bespectacled lad of 19 years. It is so easy to take no stock of his sorrow and pain.
Joy: an outside job for Scrooge
At this time of the rolling year, when we pull out that great classic, Dicken’s Christmas Carol, it is also easy to get angry with old Scrooge for his miserliness and his grumpy “Bah, Humbug.” Few of us take stock of his sorrow and pain. In the frigid spooky darkness of winter at midnight, the Ghost of Christmas Past carries the old man back to his childhood and back to an old classroom emptied by the Christmas season. There old Scrooge sees himself sitting alone as a lost pound puppy, neglected by family and friends, and there he weeps for his poor sorry self.
That was what the “Bah, Humbug” in his life was all about. Scrooge was mired down in his sad childhood. He was snowbound by his less than fortunate birth. His anger at life “nipped his pointed nose, shriveled his cheeks, stiffened his gait, reddened his eyes and made his thin lips blue” (Christmas Carol). Had he been living in our present day, old Scrooge might have never grown old at all, but as an angry young man might have taken himself to a mall to even things off concerning his unfortunate birth and to exit this life with the front-page attention which he had never gotten before.
Joy for old Scrooge needed help from outside. In fact, it was in such dire need that it needed help not only from outside but also from Above! It needed divine help! It got the help it needed from the three Ghosts of Christmas: Past, Present and Future. As the curtain goes up on the Christmas Carol, old Scrooge is not shooting up the place with a sawed-off shotgun, but he is grouching “Bah, Humbug,” and he is boiling people in their own pudding and piercing their hearts with stakes of holly (Christmas Carol). But as the curtain is going down, there is a new Scrooge whose joy has been helped by the three Spirits of Christmas. He is jumping up and down with joy in his heart and tears in his eyes, and he is shouting out a promise to all that he will honor Christmas in his heart and keep it all year round (Christmas Carol).
Conclusion
Oh rose color candle burning brightly
We are not all like that 92-year-old petite lady who perhaps was very fortunately born. In her old age joy was not an easy job, but it was, indeed, an inside job for her. She made a decision for it. Because of unfortunate birth and circumstances, many of us are not as deft at joy as she was. For many of us our joy needs help. Gaudete Sunday commands us, for whom joy comes hard, to seek the outside help that it needs. We seek that help by sharing our problem and pain with someone. That could have saved Hawkins from snapping and going to a shopping mall to resolve his depression and isolation.
Gaudete Sunday commands us to “Rejoice in the Lord always.” That’s also a command to recognize when our joy, or the joy of another, is crying for help. That’s a command for us to come to the aid of that hurting joy.
Oh, rose color candle burning brightly on Gaudete Sunday in the darkness of our commercial Christmas season remind us of the decision for joy we must all strive for. Attune us also to ourselves and others when the lack of joy might be calling for help.
[1] Diaspora is a Greek word meaning dispersion. Originally it referred to the settling of scattered colonies of Jews outside Palestine after the Babylonian exile. It’s now come to mean the migration or scattering of a people away from an established or ancestral homeland or parish!
[2]] By the “the unchurched” is especially meant not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!
