Oh Rosy Candle Burning Bright!Dec. 14, 2008, 3rd Sunday of Advent
Isaiah 61:10-11 I Thessalonians 5:16-24 John 1:6-8, 19-28
To the churched and unchurched[1]
gathered in a temple not built by human hands[2]
First reading from the prophet Isaiah
The word of the Lord
Thanks be to God
Second reading from St. Paul’s epistle to the Thessalonians
Thanks be to God
Second reading from St. Paul’s epistle to the Thessalonians
Brothers and sisters: Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. In all circumstances give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus. Do not quench the Spirit. Do not despise prophetic utterances. Test everything; retain what is good. Refrain from every kind of evil.May the God of peace make you perfectly holy and may you entirely, spirit, soul, and body, be preserved blameless for the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who calls you is faithful, and he will also accomplish it.
The word of the Lord
Thanks be to God
Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to John
Glory to you, Lord.
A man named John was sent from God. He came for testimony, to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to testify to the light. And this is the testimony of John. When the Jews from Jerusalem sent priests and Levites to him to ask him, “Who are you?” He admitted and did not deny it, but admitted, “I am not the Christ.” So they asked him, What are you then? Are you Elijah?” And he said, “I am not.” “Are you the Prophet?” He answered, “No.” So they said to him, “Who are you, so we can give an answer to those who sent us? What do you have to say for yourself?” He said: “I am the voice of one crying out in the desert, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord!’ as Isaiah the prophet said.”
The Gospel of the Lord
Praise to You, Lord Jesus Christ
Introduction
The rose color candle
The rose color candle
Before Vatican II, Advent (like Lent) was strictly a penitential season which frowned upon feasting and celebrating. Because of its somber atmosphere, Advent (like Lent) seemed interminably long in those days. So on the Sunday halfway through both seasons, the opening word of the old Latin Mass cried out “Rejoice!” The church was exclaiming, “Yippy! We’re halfway through our season of penance!”
Today -- mid-Advent Sunday -- the church still cries out “Rejoice! [in Latin Gaudete!]. We’re halfway through Advent, and soon it will be Christmas Day.” On Gaudete Sunday the color of the vestments and the third candle on the Advent wreath is rose which rejoices better than penitential purple.
Today -- mid-Advent Sunday -- the church still cries out “Rejoice! [in Latin Gaudete!]. We’re halfway through Advent, and soon it will be Christmas Day.” On Gaudete Sunday the color of the vestments and the third candle on the Advent wreath is rose which rejoices better than penitential purple.
Fr. Delp’s joy
The German Jesuit, Father Alfred Delp (executed by Hitler on February 2, 1945), sitting in prison and bound with chains, wrote in his diary for Gaudete Sunday, 1944,
Is it possible to rejoice in a prison cell (a space of three paces in each direction)? Is it possible to rejoice when your hands are fettered, and your heart is overwhelmed with longings, and your head is filled with problems and worries? Yes, happiness can happen even under these circumstances. I tell you every now and then my heart can scarcely contain the delirious joy that's in it. Suddenly, not knowing why, my spirits soar and there is no doubt in my mind that all the promises[3] hold good…. [He admits that that might just be an unconscious defense mechanism against depression.] But not always. Sometimes it is due to a wonderful premonition of wonderful things to come. (Prison Meditations of Fr. Alfred Delp)
How is it possible to rejoice when your heart is overwhelmed with longings, and your head is filled with problems and worries? Fr. Delp’s question sooner or later is everyone’s question. It’s a question which confronts us particularly at Christmas which claims to be the most joyful time of the year.
Is it possible to rejoice in a prison cell (a space of three paces in each direction)? Is it possible to rejoice when your hands are fettered, and your heart is overwhelmed with longings, and your head is filled with problems and worries? Yes, happiness can happen even under these circumstances. I tell you every now and then my heart can scarcely contain the delirious joy that's in it. Suddenly, not knowing why, my spirits soar and there is no doubt in my mind that all the promises[3] hold good…. [He admits that that might just be an unconscious defense mechanism against depression.] But not always. Sometimes it is due to a wonderful premonition of wonderful things to come. (Prison Meditations of Fr. Alfred Delp)
How is it possible to rejoice when your heart is overwhelmed with longings, and your head is filled with problems and worries? Fr. Delp’s question sooner or later is everyone’s question. It’s a question which confronts us particularly at Christmas which claims to be the most joyful time of the year.
Commanding joy!?
Gaudete Sunday commands us to rejoice. We ask is it possible to command joy or any other internal emotional state? Is it possible to command joy especially when the chips are down? The prophet Zephaniah thinks so. Speaking to refugees in a slum district of Jerusalem he tells them to, "Shout for joy, O daughter Zion! Sing joyfully, O Israel.…The King of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst. "[4] St. Paul, too, commands joy when the chips are down. Sitting in prison and bound with chains, he tells the Philippians to, “Rejoice in the Lord always! Again I say, rejoice!”[5]
Joy: not just an outside job.
How is it possible to rejoice when the chips are down? How is it possible to rejoice when you’ve just received a chilling verdict from your doctor or have been plunged into some tragedy? How is it possible to rejoice when you’ve lost your job in the present economic meltdown? How is it possible to rejoice when you’ve lost a pet which taught you what it means to love unconditionally? How, indeed, is it possible to rejoice when you’ve lost a partner of 30, 40, 50, 60 years?
It is possible because joy (the real stuff) isn’t just an “outside job.” It isn’t just a willowy reed at the mercy of life’s favorable winds. It isn’t just some capricious mood at the mercy of life’s benign circumstances.
Joy (the real stuff) isn’t just getting your hands on a $798 Samsung 50-inch Plasma HDTV, or a Bissel Compact Upright Vacuum for $28, or a Samsung 10.2 megapixel digital camera for $69, or a DVD such as "The Incredible Hulk" for $9. These were all on sale at a Long Island Wal-Mart store the day after Thanksgiving, Nov. 28, 2008, when a crowd broke down the doors at 5. A.M. and stampeded 34-year-old Jamaican Jdimytai Damour to death and injured an eight-month pregnant woman. That crowd was in hot pursuit of joy as an “outside job.”
Joy: an inside job
Joy (the real stuff) is an “inside job.” It is a decision to not get stuck in our pain. To evoke the climate of December, joy is a decision not to be snowbound by anger, self-pity, regret, grief, etc. Joy is a decision not to be snowbound either by unlucky birth or unlucky circumstance. Joy is a decision to break through the snowdrifts above us and rejoice as daffodils do in early spring. They bloom wherever they are.
A 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud lady radiates joy as an inside job, as she decides to break through the snowdrift above her and bloom right where she is. She 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. 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.
Joy as a decision is mysterious. Why is it that one person decides to stay in bed and bemoan the difficulties she has with the parts of her body that no longer work, and another makes a decision to get up and coif herself fashionably and be grateful for the parts that do work? Why is it that Dicken’s old Ebenezer Scrooge, who has all the money he needs, decides to grouch out “Bah, Humbug!,” while his nephew, who doesn’t have a penny in his pocket, decides to sing out “Merry Christmas!”? Psychology and physiology have answers to that question.
Sometimes joy is downright mystical. It was mystical, indeed, when Fr. Delp, sitting in prison and bound in chains, every now and then experienced delirious joy. Such joy has no human explanation; it is utterly a gift.
A 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud lady radiates joy as an inside job, as she decides to break through the snowdrift above her and bloom right where she is. She 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. 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.
Joy as a decision is mysterious. Why is it that one person decides to stay in bed and bemoan the difficulties she has with the parts of her body that no longer work, and another makes a decision to get up and coif herself fashionably and be grateful for the parts that do work? Why is it that Dicken’s old Ebenezer Scrooge, who has all the money he needs, decides to grouch out “Bah, Humbug!,” while his nephew, who doesn’t have a penny in his pocket, decides to sing out “Merry Christmas!”? Psychology and physiology have answers to that question.
Sometimes joy is downright mystical. It was mystical, indeed, when Fr. Delp, sitting in prison and bound in chains, every now and then experienced delirious joy. Such joy has no human explanation; it is utterly a gift.
Joy: also an outside job
Joy, indeed, is an inside job -- a personal decision. But it is also an “outside job.” That is to say it often needs help from others. The reality on the ground shows that joy as a decision doesn’t come easily for those who labor under unfortunate birth or circumstances. Then a personal decision for joy will, indeed, be helpful, but it won’t be enough. It will need help from others.
On Monday, Dec. 1, 2008, an emaciated and shackled 17-year-old boy (held captive for nearly a year) climbed out a window in the home of his captors and walked into a nearby gym in Tracy, California, in search of help. He was covered with soot, had a chain on his foot and was wearing only boxer briefs. It’s a good bet that that young man will be eternally scarred and scared. No matter how much he tries, a sheer personal decision for joy on his part will never be enough. Joy for him will always be also an outside job; it will always need help from many people.
On Monday, Dec. 1, 2008, an emaciated and shackled 17-year-old boy (held captive for nearly a year) climbed out a window in the home of his captors and walked into a nearby gym in Tracy, California, in search of help. He was covered with soot, had a chain on his foot and was wearing only boxer briefs. It’s a good bet that that young man will be eternally scarred and scared. No matter how much he tries, a sheer personal decision for joy on his part will never be enough. Joy for him will always be also an outside job; it will always need help from many people.
Conclusion
Oh Rosy candle burning brightly
Oh rosy candle burning brightly before us today,
we hear you: “Joy is an inside job!”
We don’t have to stampede to get to it!
Oh rosy candle burning brightly before us today,
we hear you: “Joy is an inside job!”
It’s a decision we make,
like the decision the petite blind lady made
as she daily rose and counted her blessings.
Oh rosy candle burning brightly before us today,
we hear you: “Joy is also an outside job!”
It often needs help from others.
The joy of that eternally scarred and scared boy
will always need much help from many others.
Oh rosy candle burning brightly before us today,
we hear you: “Joy every now and then is also a mystical job!”
That was the joy of Fr. Delp whose spirit every now and then soared,
and whose heart could scarcely contain the joy that was in it,
even though he was bound in chains and sitting in prison.
Oh Rosy candle burning brightly
Oh rosy candle burning brightly before us today,
we hear you: “Joy is an inside job!”
We don’t have to stampede to get to it!
Oh rosy candle burning brightly before us today,
we hear you: “Joy is an inside job!”
It’s a decision we make,
like the decision the petite blind lady made
as she daily rose and counted her blessings.
Oh rosy candle burning brightly before us today,
we hear you: “Joy is also an outside job!”
It often needs help from others.
The joy of that eternally scarred and scared boy
will always need much help from many others.
Oh rosy candle burning brightly before us today,
we hear you: “Joy every now and then is also a mystical job!”
That was the joy of Fr. Delp whose spirit every now and then soared,
and whose heart could scarcely contain the joy that was in it,
even though he was bound in chains and sitting in prison.
[1]] By the “the unchurched” is especially meant not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!
[2] Acts of the Apostles 17:24
[3] The promise is ”Blessed are they who suffer, they shall be comforted.”
[4]Zeph 3:14‑15 – 1st reading on Gaudete Sunday, cycle c.
[5]Phil 4:4 – 2nd reading on Gaudete Sunday, cycle c
Oh Rosy Candle Burning Bright 3rd Sunday of Advent
