The Rev. Noah Van Niel
December 12th, 2021
The Chapel of the Cross
Advent III (C): Zephaniah 3:14-20; Canticle 9; Philippians 4:4-7; Luke 3:7-18
Did you know that in 1659, the Puritans cancelled Christmas? It’s true. In 1659, the General Court of the Massachusetts Bay Colony decreed that “whosoever shall be found observing any such day as Christmas or the like, either by forbearing of labor, feasting, or any other way” will be subject to a 5-shilling fine.[1] December 25th was meant to be a workday not a holiday. Part of their reasoning was scriptural—the Bible makes no mention of December 25th as being the day of Jesus’ birth, and even in the 1600’s they were aware that the Roman Catholic Church had probably picked it out to co-opt pagan festivals around the winter solstice. The other part of their reasoning was that the 17th century celebrations of Christmas they knew from their native England were getting a little out of control. People were being very merry and not all that bright. Their revelry bordered on rioting, and they spent the holiday doing whatever the 17th century equivalent of living la vida loca was. So, the Puritans, never ones for half measures, banned the holiday. And the law remained on the books until 1681. Over 20 years: No Christmas!
Obviously riotous debauchery is not a good way to pass the Christmas holiday. But one of the troubling things about those Puritans, and many other Christians before and after them was the way in which they didn’t seem to understand the value of celebration. They seem to mistrust joy. They see it as something superficial, something that can distract you from the serious work of God. After all, in our faith we are dealing with weighty matters of existential importance: life and death, sin and salvation, justice and righteousness. Therefore, the feeling was, our work, our worship, our lives, must be very serious; orderly and restrained. Now even though, the Anglicans were the ecclesiological enemies of the Puritans, I wonder if in our approach to matters of the faith, we don’t tilt a little in their direction on this front. It is no secret that we Episcopalians are known to some as the “Frozen Chosen”—we practice our faith with supreme orderliness and structure, which does not lend itself to outbursts of exuberance. (Where we might say we are refined, others might say we are repressed.) I don’t necessarily agree with that assessment, but the danger, is that, in keeping our stiff upper lip, we unintentionally give the message that joy, that fun, has no place in the life of faith. We feed into the idea that religion must be very solemn and very serious.
Well to that I say, “Bah, Humbug!” Because joy is a scriptural mandate and a virtue to be cultivated! Today, the Third Sunday of Advent is known in the church as Gaudete Sunday—Rejoicing Sunday. (It’s traditionally the pink candle on the Advent wreath if you’re playing along with colored candles at home.) To my point, we have to set aside a day to remind ourselves that, even amid the solemn preparations of Advent, the thing for which we are preparing is really exciting, really good news, news to celebrate! This is always echoed in the readings selected for this day. Hear the words of Zephaniah: “Sing aloud, O daughter Zion; shout, O Israel! Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter Jerusalem!” Or as the original Hebrew has it, “WAHOO!” Hear the song of Isaiah: “Sing the praises of the Lord, for he has done great things, and this is known in all the world. Cry aloud, inhabitants of Zion, ring out your joy.” And then of course Philippians. “Rejoice in the Lord always, again I will say, Rejoice!” And why? Why should we be so happy? Zephaniah: “The king of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst!” Isaiah: “for the great one in the midst of you is the Holy One of Israel!” Philippians: “The Lord is near.” That’s the good news of today: the proximity of the divine presence. God is coming. Here. To us. With us. In fact, God is already in the midst of us! If you believe in that good news, they are saying, then act like you do when you get good news! Sing, dance, shout, jump up and down!
Not everyone at once. Okay, to be fair, not everyone expresses or experiences joy in the same way. You do not need to be rolling in the aisles to prove you’re feeling the Spirit. But it’s worth asking yourself, do you feel that level of joy in your spiritual life? Does your faith feel like fun? Because it should. It should make you happy. There is much heaviness in life, that’s undeniable. Difficulties and disasters; sin and sorrow and sadness. Especially right now. Everything for two years has just been so heavy. And justifiably so. But I’ve found one of the hardest parts of living through this pandemic has been the loss of opportunities for fun. And even when they do present themselves, they’re still highly fraught, weighted with a level of danger and worry that is always there, hovering, blocking out the sun. But that heaviness can suffocate our souls which, like birds of the air are meant to take flight, be light, not caged and chained to the ground. Joy gives us that lightness of being. A taste of what it feels like to be fully alive and free of fear—if only for a moment. And if Jesus is to be believed, that is the kind of life for which we are made. We are not meant to be heavy, solemn, dour people. We are made for joy. The Kingdom of Heaven he came proclaiming, the fullness of life to which he called us was not a life of drudgery and rigidity. He said it was a great banquet feast, to which all are invited. Sounds like fun, right? If Advent is really preparing us for the arrival of Emmanuel—God with us—and the recognition that God is with us, then we are meant to celebrate and to live lives of celebration. Because in so doing we get a foretaste of life as it should be, but so rarely is.
Our need for joy, is not the need to forget about the troubles of this world, pretending they do not exist. This is where I think the Puritans and so many other Christians have made mistakes in their treatment of joy. To rejoice is not a distraction from more important matters. It is not an escape. It is not living superficially. To rejoice is not denial. It is defiance. Defiance of worry, and fear, and pain, and sorrow and loss. A refusal to let them have the last word and rob us of the very life we are meant to be living. The promise of the incarnation, twinned with the promise of resurrection, is the same: you have nothing to fear. The Lord is near. The Lord is here. So let us rejoice and sing! To rejoice, especially at times of hardness and heaviness, is not distasteful, it is faithful. It is to stare death and darkness and difficulty in the face and not to let them overwhelm the light that is in you, the lightness that is in you. That is why, as our prayer book says, even at the grave we make our song, Alleluia…Alleluia…Alleluia!
We need to find some joy this Advent. Lucky for us, occasions for it are all around this time of year. Seek it out. Embrace it. Do something that will make you smile, make you laugh. And then remember that feeling. That’s how life with God is supposed to feel. Good. Happy. Free. Joy-filled and joyful. Carry that in your heart through this season; and throughout this year and the blessings of Christmas will shine all the brighter even in your darkest moments. That is why on this day we are told, why we are commanded: “Rejoice in the Lord, always, and again I say, Rejoice.” Because it is only then that will we be living the life of faith to the fullest. Amen.
[1] https://www.history.com/news/when-massachusetts-banned-christmas