News and Views

Rejoice in the Lord always; again, I will say, Rejoice! Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. -- Philippians 4:4-7      

If I asked you to imagine a serious, somber, prayerful Jesus, you probably wouldn’t have too much difficulty conjuring that image. The same might be true if I asked you to imagine Jesus weeping, or perhaps even an angry Jesus, such as when we visualize him overturning the tables in the temple. But what happens when I ask you to imagine Jesus leaping in exuberant joy? Are you able to easily create that image in your mind? If not, why do you think that is?

I recall a discussion during a Bible study earlier in my ministry where the notion of “laughing Jesus” was discussed. One participant said they found that characterization of Jesus to be disrespectful, almost irreverent. If Ecclesiastes teaches that there is a time and a place for everything under the heavens, including laughter, why do we restrict Jesus to a perpetually serious countenance?

The third Sunday of Advent is known as Gaudete Sunday. Gaudete is Latin for “rejoice.” The lectionary Scripture for this Sunday comes from Philippians 4:4-6, “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.” The same call is heard in the words of 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18, “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” It is difficult to be somber or sullen while simultaneously rejoicing. The very definition of the word is to “feel or show great joy or delight.” We who follow Jesus are called to rejoice, to show great joy or delight -- and to do so constantly!

Is this invitation to rejoice valid in difficult times and circumstances? Don’t we get a liturgical pass in our current milieu? That question is valid, but as we understand the context of Paul’s letter, the answer becomes self-evident. These verses appear in a letter the apostle Paul wrote to the church at Philippi as he was facing a death sentence. He is exhorting them to rejoice, to be gentle, to stop worrying, to be at peace. The times in which the letter was written were also fraught as some who received his letter were under siege. Paul wrote as he was imprisoned for being a faithful witness to the life, mission and ministry of Jesus Christ. He was being persecuted for following The Way and was being held under a capital charge. Paul wrote about rejoicing and giving thanks, not knowing whether he would ever see the outside of his cell.

Paul understood that joy, unlike happiness, is not something to be pursued. Happiness, in many instances, is tied to circumstances, situations, or feelings. Joy must be more innate. Theologian, author and activist Barbara Holmes expounds upon this notion of joy as it manifests itself in the African American church. She writes, “A common presumption is that Black church worship practices are subsumed in liturgical enthusiasm and joyful expressions of adoration and praise.” She guards against the misnomer that this expression arises from frivolity; rather, it comes from a deep longing connected to a deep knowing. A very deep knowing of God and God’s faithfulness in all circumstances. This active yearning, coupled with an unshakeable knowing, challenges and even defies expression. It is an “unspeakable joy.” 

But let me be clear, nothing in this explication should be interpreted as African Americans or any marginalized group being impervious to pain, injustice or oppression. Nor should it be understood as the passive response of people resigned to hardship in this life but clinging to an eschatological hope for a better life in the world to come. Rather, this Pauline exhortation is evidence of faith in a God who always brings justice, righteousness, redemption and restoration. A life lived in God and committed to the spiritual disciplines, especially the discipline of prayer, is a whole life borne of God’s proven faithfulness. And, that wholeness becomes a fountain of joy. It’s a joy that the world doesn’t give, so the world cannot take it away.

During a recent meeting where we were discussing whether rejoicing is the right focus for our upcoming annual conference sessions, a member of the team quoted author Alice Walker’s phrase, “Hard times require furious dancing.” The phrase adorned an invitation Walker sent as she invited friends and colleagues to come and dance through whatever was challenging them. Walker herself was dealing with birth, death, love, rejection, abandonment and familial struggles – all the vicissitudes of life. Yet, Walker knew there was something freeing in movement. As your body connects with the beat, and you begin to lose yourself in the rhythm, whatever sadness, grief, pain, disappointment or fatigue you are carrying recedes and joy wells up within you. Surely, you’ve experienced it -- a toe-tap moves to the leg, which rises up the back, and before you know it, you’re swinging and swaying, snapping your fingers and consumed with joy.

Praise is a form of dance, an embodied liturgy that isn’t dependent on circumstance or outward ease. It is a testimony of the presence, power, persistence and perfection of God. As we praise and dance before the Lord, even our present burdens are lightened, and the joy within cannot be contained. Today, tomorrow and for ten thousand tomorrows, may our joy be made evident to all. And regardless of your circumstances, or perhaps because of them, the next time you get the chance to sit it out or dance, I hope you’ll dance -- alive with the joy of Advent and the coming of Christ.