“Rejoice in the Lord always.

I shall say it again: rejoice!”

This, and every, Third Sunday of Advent we celebrate Gaudete Sunday. It gets its name from the beginning of the entrance antiphon for the Third Sunday of Advent, “Rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say it again: rejoice!” Gaudete is a Latin word meaning rejoice. It is in the imperative tense, so it is given as a command or instruction. The entrance antiphon comes from Paul’s letter to the Philippians, which in the three year cycle of Sunday readings we also happen to hear today. Paul actually wrote these words from prison, so this is no pollyannaish admonition to just be happy. True happiness is a complex emotion tied to subjective well-being. It is not a cliche to “turn that frown upside down” (although some studies suggest that intentional actions like smiling can significantly affect subjective well-being). Paul’s admonition is even deeper than that. It is a call to tap into joy. Henri Nouwen, a Catholic priest and author, spoke of joy as knowing that one is truly loved, especially by God. As the first reading from the prophet Zephaniah (the only time hear from this prophet in the three year cycle) states poetically, “…[The LORD] will rejoice over you with gladness, and renew you in his love, he will sing joyfully because of you, as one sings at festivals.” Because of God’s personal love for each of us, we can experience deep and profound joy, regardless of our circumstances. Even in the midst of trauma, trial, or tragedy, we can experience peace knowing that God loves us and we are not alone. Paul instructs us to tap into that joy, that profound relationship of love with God, to “rejoice in the Lord always.”

On that journey to joy, which frequently still alludes me, a great grace occurred for me before my third back surgery. Back surgery is usually not a response to a life threatening condition, although back pain can be a profound trial and life altering. Yet, before going under anesthesia, you are informed that there is an incredibly slim chance that you may not wake up. For my first two surgeries, that produced some significant anxiety in me. The grace for me before the third surgery was the very clear memory as I was going under, that even if I didn’t wake up, I would be okay. If this was the end, I was at peace with that outcome. I trusted the one who loved me whatever happened. Don’t get me wrong, when I woke up I was very happy! But even when I went under, I had joy. We celebrate Gaudete Sunday as a reminder of that kind of joy. Buffeted by life’s difficulties and uncertainty, we are not alone. We are loved. Jesus is in our boat. As a visible sign, we light a pink candle on the Advent Wreath and we may wear rose vestments. In our hearts, it is a reminder that we are always and forever and unconditionally loved. 

If you’ll allow me a brief personal reflection, this is also a moment of deep personal joy for me as I celebrate my 20th anniversary of ordination to the priesthood of Jesus Christ. I can hardly express the depth of my gratitude that God, through the Church, chose me to serve his people, those whom he loves, as a priest. I would be lying if I said that I fully understood, even now, what that means. It has been a vocation that stretches my heart everyday, calling me to love more like Jesus. It has been a sacrifice that stretches my ego every day, calling me to die to self and give my life for others. It has been a privilege to walk with people in the great joys, griefs, transformations, successes, failures, and reconciliations of their lives. It has been a source of authentic friendships and love. Through it, God draws me ever deeper into his own love. It has definitely not been all sunshine and daisies, but it has all been grace! I was reminded this week that “none of us gets here alone.” Certainly, I am grateful to every one of you that have loved me and formed me as a better priest and I am grateful to God for all of it. May God, who has begun this good work, bring it to fulfillment! Rejoice in the Lord always!