15 December - Advent 3: Zephaniah 3:14-end, Philippians 4:4-7 and Luke 3:7-18
Today is what’s known as Gaudete Sunday: a day when we are commanded to rejoice.
It’s why we light a rose-pink candle. It signals a joyous note amidst the purple of penitence and preparation.
Gaudete in Domino semper: rejoice in the Lord always.
The prophet Zephaniah speaks of singing, shouting, exulting and rejoicing with all our heart and voice.
That might sound a bit bullish when we’re exhausted or fearful; when we’re grieving or just getting by; when our hearts break.
Maya Angelou wrote that: ‘we need joy as we need air. We need love as we need water. We need each other as we need the earth we share.’
Like Zephaniah and Paul, Angelou doesn’t write this out of comfort but from a place of struggle, protest and advocacy.
They are all aware of the personal burdens and community challenges - and yet glimpse and cling onto something more.
Joy isn’t something that simply happens. It’s not the pursuit of things we think might make us happy, for a while.
We have to choose it. Or notice it. And keep choosing it. And noticing it.
Without it we can’t breathe. Just as without love, we thirst.
Even when those #TinyJoys are like whispers not shouts; like breath before the song.
For Zephaniah, joy comes when justice is restored.
Despite the prophet calling out people’s neglect of the commandments of God, and in the face of the trauma of exile, the presence of God brings new life, a new future.
Instead of judgement there is overwhelming mercy.
God comes to us, is in the midst of us: with love.
This is a cause of celebration - of singing and shouting.
In the face of hurt and fear there is breath and joy.
In the face of fragmentation and alienation flow the waters of justice and love that renews.
Relationships change - people are gathered up and brought home, healed and stretched, given a future.
There is justice in place of fear - life together in a different register: as Angelou puts it, ‘we need each other as we need the earth we share.’
Such shouts of joy stand in stark contrast to the words on John the Baptist’s lips: ‘you brood of vipers!’
They are words of judgement: harsh, shocking, blunt.
He calls us to turn back to God’s love, to repent.
They are words which call forth change and action: to show in our lives the fruit of such repentance, of returning to love. We need such love as we need water.
The question on the lips of the crowd makes sense: what then should we do?
How are we to live?
If we turn towards God’s love, if we repent, how then should we live?
In the face of a changing world and when love changes us, how should we act?
From the wilderness, a voice calls us to us. It calls us home.
Home to God. Home to ourselves. Home to the places where we live and worship and work.
We need each other. We are to show love and joy in those familiar places.
It is in the ordinary habits and patterns of our lives, that God is near to us. It is in the routine and mundane that we can make a difference.
Two coats? Give one away.
More food than we need? Share it with others.
We can be generous now. We can be compassionate now.
We are invited to live our lives. Now.
John goes on to offer specific advice - to tax collectors, soldiers and religious leaders.
Don’t take more than is owed in tax; don’t use force or threats to supplement wages; don’t be arrogant because of your role or position.
Perhaps this is what repentance looks like: generosity, justice and contentment. It’s a practical expression of our faith.
The message to the crowd that we all have gifts - gifts more than what we own, but in who we are.
There is joy and love in this: needs met by human lives.
This is good news. This is a cause to rejoice, to shout and sing.
All that we have and all that we are is loved and capable of showing love.
John ends with words that the Messiah will baptise with the Holy Spirit and with fire.
It’s another stark image. An ear of corn is made up of both the kernel of wheat and the husk of chaff. What is capable of being ground into flour to make life giving bread is gathered up; the husk is inedible, it’s burnt up.
John and Jesus are dividing human beings against each other - they are reminding us that when we come before the fiery radiance of love. Then the one who knows all the secrets of our hearts will gather us home; and gather up the rich harvests of our attempts to love.
We are seen and known. Going through a baptism that cleanses, forgives and restores.
Judgement is good news; it’s an act of love and source of joy. It speaks of right perception and being seen. It speaks of holding on to what is good; of letting go of defences, fears, hurts, failings.
Joy comes from this honest place of setting aside painful truths - and allowing ourselves to be embraced by love (rather than turning away).
It’s out of this hope that Paul writes. God is near to us - set aside worries. God is near - be gentle, to others and yourself. God is near to us - pray, give thanks. God is near - rejoice.
Here we take the fruits of the harvest - the bread from milled grain, the wine from the crushed grape. They become for us food for the journey; drawing us into communion, community. A joyful feast, a love that meets us where we are and helps us bear fruit.
‘We need joy as we need air. We need love as we need water. We need each other as we need the earth we share.’
© Julie Gittoes 2025