Advent Week 3: When Joy is Elusive
The theme for the third week of Advent is joy. And to be honest, joy is the last thing I feel. In addition to personal challenges, I also feel weighed down by the amount of injustice going on. I could mention a million different issues but the one currently weighing most on my mind is the continued genocide in Palestine.
It boggles my mind how despite the numerous genocides and ethnic cleansings that the world experienced in the 20th century, they continue to occur well into the 21st century with the expressed support of nations that allegedly value democracy, freedom, and justice. There’s not much to feel joyful about. And to be honest that has been the reality for years. I am sure that every year since Advent was created, people could point to horrific occurrences that made the gospel a bit more difficult to hold onto.
So what are we Christians to do with joy amid such sorrow? First, it’s ok to not feel any hint of joy at all. Especially if you and your loved ones are going through significant sorrow- loved ones who have died, jobs lost, violence suffered, etc. Take this time to mourn and be honest about one’s struggles, God can handle it.
Additionally, I do think that Western Christians should take seriously the fact that in Bethlehem, Palestinian Christians have canceled Christmas. It makes sense: how can there be Christmas amid a massacre that the majority of the world powers have averted their eyes from?
For me, joy during this period doesn’t look like stereotypical depictions of joy: lots of presents, attending parades, and watching holiday movies. At this point in my life, joy isn’t tied to outward expressions of jubilee. Instead, right now, the few moments I can grasp onto any inkling of joy are tied to my faith. A faith that sings with Mary of a God who rips the powerful from their throne and rises up the lowly, that cares for the hungry and sees the rich denied. A faith that says: God isn’t up there in the clouds somewhere but is here with us: is here with those of us struggling to find jobs, is here with those grieving the deaths of loved ones, is in Gaza in the rumble and destruction.
I know I am not alone in forgoing the festive nature of the upcoming holiday. For many of us, any expression of joy feels foreign during this time. And it feels as if we will never experience joy again. That is valid. Let us remember that this lack of expressing joy is not evidence of a lack of faith. It is an acknowledgment of the reality of the world in which we find ourselves.
And yet faith can be found in the midst of despair. Faith says, that we may not be experiencing joy now, but we trust that God journeys with all of us suffering. Faith says that even in light of the horrific amount of injustice we will continue to work to bring peace and justice. Faith says we know that we do not do this work alone: God is with us. Faith says we are going to keep moving forward, keep putting one step in front of the other, and keep agitating for things to change. Faith says that we serve a God who can and will turn the world upside down.
Mary, in Luke, is pregnant and unmarried. Her world has been turned upside down. She must have been scared and uncertain of the future. She is living under the occupation of the violent and oppressive Roman Empire. And yet she still utters a song of triumph and victory.
Most of us aren’t in a place of triumphantly shouting for victory, maybe the best we can do is whisper our hopes for a world where violence and injustice are no more. Maybe we can’t muster up even a drop of joy. That is ok. We can still hold onto the hope of future joy. We can still hold onto the hope of a God who will work with us to put an end to injustice and violence. For this Advent, that is enough.
Image: Grey wall as the background. Text: Most of us aren’t in a place of triumphantly shouting for victory...that is ok. We can still hold onto the hope of future joy. We can still hold onto the hope of a God who will work with us to put an end to injustice and violence. For this Advent, that is enough.