“The UnCluttered Heart: Joy” Luke 1: 46-53

What comes to your mind when you think of joy? I think of one woman in this parish who has a smile that lights up the room whenever she sees you. I think of the excitement of a child when they get to do something that they enjoy or spend time with family and friends. 

I am currently working on a project that phrases the question a little bit differently, “what makes your heart sing?” For me it’s spending time with my nieces and nephews. Reading thick books. Exploring trails. Traveling. Having a cup of tea in the morning. 

The problem friends is that sometimes we lose our joy. Sometimes we get so caught up in what we think we ought to be doing that we don’t let that song sing out of our spirits about what brings us joy. What makes us feel alive and connected to God.

The third week of Advent has some debate around it. Some traditions say that this is the week of joy. Others say that it is the week of love. Either way, this is the week we light the pink candle. The candle that marks that we are half way through our time of preparation and waiting. 

Today, on this third Sunday of Advent we are going to focus on joy. The joy that Mary carried in her heart for Jesus’s impending birth. The word used for this particular Sunday is Gaudete - which literally means rejoice!

If anyone didn’t have a reason to rejoice it would have been Mary. This young woman, engaged to be wed to Joseph, only to be found with a child by the Holy Spirit. She knew what that meant, friend. She knew the risk to her own body, her own life that she was taking on when this happening to anyone else would bring a sentence of death. Yet, here is Mary, poor, living in a society where women did not have much worth or voice outside of their marriage and having children and she responded that she was willing to be obedient to the Lord. 

Mary then goes to spend time with Elizabeth and we are told that when Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting that the child in her womb, did what? Leaped for joy. The child that Elizabeth was carrying - the one whom was to prepare the way for the Messiah, responded before they were both even born. 

And after that moment the floodgates of Mary’s heart overflowed in this poem, this song, that we often call the Magnificant. Why? Because Mary starts out, before anything else, saying that her soul magnifies the Lord and she rejoices in God, her savior. For how he has looked at Mary and saw her with eyes that no one else in the world saw her with. For showing her favor. And simply because God is God and God is holy. 

Friends, is that the same type of joy that we are carrying around in our hearts this season? Because if I’m honest, sometimes it doesn’t seem like it. In the midst of all the busyness and the filled calendars with places to be and things to do - as we try to fit in as much holiday fun and cheer as we can, it is often at the cost of joy being pushed out. 

Because here’s the thing. Joy isn’t the same as being happy. Or being cheerful. Joy doesn’t come from circumstances. Joy comes from the hope and peace of God that we celebrated the last two Sundays. It is because of joy, my friends, that we can praise God. And not one more thing that you squeeze into your schedule this holiday is going to be the source of joy - for that is God alone. 

For the past few months, we have been studying the book of Hosea in Bible Study. And we got into an interesting conversation once about places of worship and especially about alters. The prophet Hosea was telling the people of Israel that they got the purpose of worship all confused and in doing so they have profaned the alter. They had even forgotten what the alter was for. 

See the people during the time of Hosea, were going about things all on their own. They were doing the things that they thought would bring them happiness and success, even if it meant going over here to worship the goddess of fertility and going over there to worship the god of the harvest. Then when they were so tangled up in the mess of their making they would come back to God and say, well God if I offer you a sacrifice, on this day, in this way, on this alter then you have to forgive me. 

But that wasn’t the point of worship. In fact, if you go back to Genesis, think about when alters were built. They were usually a pile of rocks put in a place where God showed up. Where people had this profound connection with God. A place they wanted to remember and be thankful for. 

We talk a lot this time of year, between Thanksgiving and Christmas in the wider world, which often overlaps with Advent within the church, talking about what we are thankful for. But I wonder if we actually live like it. Do we live like people who delight in God? Do we live like people who are overflowing with joy? Or do we say things we are thankful for, but not live as people marked and changed by the joy of our Lord?

Now, once again, that does not mean that we always need to be happy. In my last parish, I was blessed to serve alongside another clergywoman also named Michele (we called ourselves one ‘l’ and two ‘ll’). And for years we had a service for people for who this season may be hard. And folks who didn’t want to be tugged one way or another. Folks who just needed space to breathe during the midst of it all. And one of that things that came out of that service, which was originally meant for those who were grieving during the holidays, was this understanding that there can be springs of joy even when we feel broken, dry, and running on empty. Because joy is bigger than you and bigger than me. Joy comes from our Lord alone. There is joy even in the fact that I may not be able to feel it right now. There is joy that there is room for all. 

There is room for joy for the broken hearted. There is room for joy for those who are confused and overwhelmed. If there is room for the young girl who was told that her life was going to be forever changed by the Holy Spirit - then, church, there is room for joy for us all this season, no matter what we may be feeling. 

Friends, part of this season’s uncomfortableness can be tied up in misplaced expectations. Expectations for that gift that you really wanted but didn’t find under the tree. Expecting that one family member to come in for the holidays, that never shows. Expecting that we are going to be fulfilled by adding just one more thing to the calendar. 

But instead, Mary, and her song of joy and praise, reminds us that the only thing we can expect is the unexpected. Because God moves in the most unexpected of ways. But God also in that movement, leaves behind joy for our spirits that overflows from us into the world. Let us go forth as the people of joy. Amen.