All of today’s readings deal with joy. In my mind, joy is different from happiness. Joy is active, compared to the passivity I associate with happiness. I’ve been happy after eating a tasty meal, reading a good book, or using a coupon that saves a few dollars. In those circumstances, onlookers might not even know I was happy by my outward expression.
But joy? For most, joy is unmistakable. At its weakest, joy bestows a compulsion to smile, a brightening of the eyes, a chuckle at the back of the throat. At its strongest, it compels action: a delighted clapping of hands, a spontaneous hug, or even more explosive exuberance. The phrase “jump for joy” is rooted in the human experience.
This joy is evident in practically every moment of today’s selections. From Song of Songs: “Hark! my lover–here he comes springing across the mountains, leaping across the hills.”
From Zephaniah: “Shout for joy, O daughter Zion! Sing joyfully, O Israel! Be glad and exult with all your heart, O daughter Jerusalem!”
From the responsorial psalm: “Give thanks to the LORD on the harp; with the ten-stringed lyre chant his praises. Sing to him a new song; pluck the strings skillfully, with shouts of gladness.”
And from today’s Gospel selection from Luke, detailing the meeting of Mary (pregnant with Jesus) and her cousin Elizabeth (pregnant with John the Baptist), Elizabeth declares, “the infant in my womb leaped for joy.”
On this, the day of Christmas Eve Eve Eve Eve, we have less than 100 hours to go before we celebrate the birth of Christ. Less than 100 hours until the culmination of our Advent contemplations, our prayers, our charitable acts.
Many outsiders consider the faith to be joyless, because so much of our time is spent in soulful hymns, in calls to repent, in reflections on Christ’s suffering. But little could be further from the truth. To the faithful, joy is an integral part of life. We’ve been taught by Christ to live beyond the meager physical pleasures that the world would tempt us with, that it tries to say are “joy.”
Instead, we turn our attention and focus to that which really gives joy. The coming of the Savior. The realization that death need not hold any fear for us. The knowledge that we are part of the Body of Christ. The understanding that the Communion of Saints continues to play an active role in our lives. The feeling of the Spirit in our hearts and minds and lips.
Linguistically, the word “rejoice” literally stems from the idea of “cause joy to” or “experience joy.” It is active. The hymn “How Can I Keep From Singing?” speaks well to this overflowing bounty of active anticipation that fills our hearts, and today’s readings bolster that. Like the feeling of seeing a beloved, like the percussive exuberance of drums, like the ascendant voice of a choir, like the delight of an expectant mother, like the glee of seeing a favorite family member, like the gladness that comes from sharing that elation with others . . . all of this, and more, is true joy, and it vastly overshadows the fleeting temptations of the secular world.
In the time it’s taken you to read this, you’ve grown five minutes closer to the celebration of the birth of our Savior – with that most humble of origins, destined to bestow the greatest gift the world has ever known. If your heart isn’t quickening, if your lips aren’t curling in happiness, if there isn’t some part of you waiting, begging to act on that joy, then I humbly suggest reviewing today’s readings again. Then hug a loved one, send a card to a friend, visit a neighbor, sing a song, and . . . well, rejoice!
Today’s readings: Sg 2:8-14; Zep 3:14-18A; Ps 33:2-3,11-12,20-21; Lk 1:39-45
