There is always joy

O Wisdom,

Lord and Ruler,

Root of Jesse,

Key of David,

Rising Sun,

King of the Nations,

Emmanuel.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Amen.

Mark writes: “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”

Mark starts with announcing the good news, in fact while this sentence introduces his gospel, the entire gospel is in fact all good news.

And unlike Luke or Matthew, Mark does not spend time on describing the nativity or Jesus’ familial line and unlike John, the true nature of Jesus as co-eternal with God is not discussed.

No, Mark just jumps right in.

He confirms that Jesus is the Messiah by quoting Isaiah, by noting that God’s agents are building the highway to make God’s return that much smoother.

They are flattening mountains and raising up valleys.

Those agents are preparing the way for the Lord.

Now, it can be a bit difficult to read Jesus into the Hebrew Bible as the idea of Jesus was not yet conceived when the prophet Isaiah put words to parchment.

Some would argue Isaiah was even talking about Cyrus who would lead the Israelite’s return from the Babylonian exile and restore the Temple rather than a figure such as Jesus.

Still, Mark uses Isaiah’s poetic and prophetic words to introduce us to John the Baptist who in turn prepares us for the arrival of the one who shall baptize with the Holy Spirit.

And the one who would deliver us, baptize us with the Spirit, and will eventually build anew not just God’s Temple, but God’s kingdom as well, is Jesus Christ.

Indeed, Mark does start with the good news first!

It is the good news.

It is joyful news.

And this news prepares us for Christ’s eventual arrival which we will celebrate just two weeks from now.

Two weeks.

If that doesn’t wake you up I don’t what will, (certainly not this sermon!)

At least for me, this is the part of the season of preparation where I start to get a little nervous.

The tree is up and decorated, sure, but what of everything else?

What about everything else we have to do to prepare for such a holiday and more so, what about everything else we have to do to prepare for the arrival of the Christ child?

There can be a sort of panic sometimes that there is much to be done, too much to be done before some deadline needs to be reached, before some bauble needs to be bought, before some effort needs to be put forth.

There is a great possibility that this season of preparation becomes one of many tasks and at no time is there a moment to pause.

To reflect.

To bask in the early winter glow of a darkened evening lit by moonlight and hopeful dreams of days to come.

And it is in these times when I am just as rushed and just as harried as anyone else that I need to remind myself to find that pause and reflect on all that this season entails.

And I often find that reminder just when it seems most inconvenient, just when there is yet another sermon to write or a business meeting to attend or someone’s need to attend to God reminds me to pause.

And this year, I was reminded to reflect a little when I reread a Howard Thurman poem from his collection of poetry, “The Mood of Christmas…”

The poem reads:

I will light Candles this Christmas,

Candles of joy despite all the sadness,

Candles of hope where despair keeps watch,

Candles of courage for fears ever present,

Candles of peace for tempest-tossed days,

Candles of grace to ease heavy burdens,

Candles of love to inspire all my living,

Candles that will burn all year long.

Yes, Advent is about preparing for Christ’s arrival and not all of that commercial stuff and still, Christ arrives on Christmas and the very message we carry into that day and the 12 days after until the Epiphany matters.

And Dr. Thurman’s poetry reminds me of that message.

The message that though we celebrate the day of Christmas and in this church the season of Christmas, our work, just as our faith, just as our hope, is eternal.

And long-lasting.

I do not need to do it all to have it all, I need to focus on the longer path and the greater vision.

We lit candles this morning.

Specifically, one was a candle symbolizing peace, yet imagine its light emanating from this place into our hearts and through the doors and windows of this church until it reaches a tempest-tossed world in need of the slightest slivers of light as if tossed pea stones leaving ripples upon the water.

A candle lit for peace can change the world.

Candles lit for joy can shine light upon sadness until that light overcomes the sadness.

Hope shall overcome despair.

Courage over fear, and so on.

But note there is action involved.

Note that the candle must be lit so that it can let out its light.

And just to clarify, we are the light.

We are the light bringing peace to the nations and food to those who hunger.

The question then becomes, which is your candle and where is your light?

Which is my candle?

Where is my light?

To answer that I need to wonder; to discover.

To pause and to reflect.

Which candle will burn all year long; which light shall shine from beneath to above the heavens?

Give yourself now the space and time to understand such things, to grow into such things.

Pause.

Then act.

Because next comes the hard work and in that work is joy.

Though this world can sometimes seem only full of turbulence and upset, there is joy.

Joy in family, yes, joy in worship, yes, joy in sharing time with each other over a meal or a meeting held in a chilly undercroft or downstairs classrooms as we gather together to plan just how we are to accomplish the work God sets out before us, there joy, yes.

There is always joy.

And we can look at sadness and find joy in lifting up those who weep.

We can perceive hunger as the sin for which it is and still find joy in feeding those who need food.

We can understand the feeling of thirst, the desire for one’s thirst to be quenched with water or the Word and find joy in sating that thirst.

In all that Dr. Thurman set before us in his poem, in that list of things he mentions that cause heartbreak and pain to the soul, in despair and fear and the burdens we carry, there is joy when we confront them.

There is joy when we lift each other up.

And so, I say if this place is not joyful, if in these pews we are brought down by sin and brokenness rather than sharing those burdens and calming fear and embracing those in despair then we are doing this wrong.

If we are pointing to a broken world, shrugging our shoulders, and saying, “That’s just the way things are,” then we are doing this wrong.

Again, now is the time to reflect and then act.

Reflect on all that we do to alleviate loneliness rather than give into the fact that loneliness exists.

Pause to consider that though the sick do suffer we have a role in healing the sick through prayer, companionship, and ensuring our brothers and sisters receive the proper care they so need.

Point not to all that is wrong in the world, no, point to all that we do, all of that we believe, and say there is joy in serving and there is light.

A light to illumine suffering so that we might find suffering and alleviate suffering.

A light to illumine the joy we bring to this world found in this place and spreads from here to the nations.

A light that will shine brighter than any star and ultimately, ultimately will lead us to our savior.

Amen.