“Joy to the World, the Lord has come.
Let Earth receive her King!
Let every heart prepare him room,
And heaven and nature sing.”
Rustling tissue, jangling ornaments, flickering flames, pealing laughter, the lull of carols and the fragrance of pine— if there’s one ritual that I gleefully anticipate, it’s the night we prepare our home for Christmas. Weaving our way around the tree, we wind the cords of light in and out, lower and higher, until at last stepping back to admire its incandescent glow. And yet, as sluggishly as that evening approaches each year, how suddenly it passes.
Isn’t that always the way of it? The sweeter the moment, the swifter the ending: an unexpected rescue just when all seems lost, a bridegroom waiting with baited breath, the creeping blush of dawn on the horizon, a child’s first gasp, a soaring crescendo poised trembling in the air—however exquisite the experience, our happiness is fleeting at best.
And for every momentary pleasure, there are whole seasons where sorrow deepens and anxiety escalates. Nights where we fall asleep weeping, and awaken weary to face the day. Years when even those Christmas lights seem dimmed by the creeping darkness.
I remember one particularly bitter January when my mother cautioned me, “Jo, you can’t go on like this. You’ve lost your joy.” I would have dismissed her words, were it not for my Bible reading that morning: “Be joyful always. Pray continually. Give thanks under all circumstances” (I Thessalonians 5:16-18). At the time, I felt resentful. “God, you have got to be kidding me! What is this so-called “joy” that you speak of? How am I supposed to muster up this emotion, when all I feel is sadness?” Frustrated and convicted, I began to search the Scriptures for this evasive “joy”.
Immediately, I discovered that joy is not only a pervasive thread throughout the Scriptures, but an authentic marker of the people of God. Notably, however, joy is not synonymous with happiness. According to the Declaration of Independence, “the pursuit of Happiness” is an “unalienable right” for humankind. And yet, wherever we seek it—whether through work, education, nature, wealth, pleasure, power, or human relationships—lasting happiness proves to be as elusive as “chasing after the wind” (Ecclesiastes 1:14). “Pursuit” is an apt expression, as we are ever striving but never arriving.
What sets joy apart from happiness is that, while happiness is dependent upon our circumstances, biblical joy is experienced in defiance of the circumstances:
“Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning… You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness.” (Psalm 30:11)
“Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy.” (Psalm 126:5)
“Then they left the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer dishonor for the name.” (Acts 5:41)
“Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings…” (Romans 5:3)
“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds.” (James 1:2)
As remarkable as it may seem, while happiness is found in the absence of suffering, the Bible speaks of a joy that can be encountered in the midst of it: indeed, a joy that is typically born out of it. But how can this be?
When my eldest son was still an infant crying in the night, I used to sneak into his room and lay my hand on his head. Immediately comforted, he fell back into a peaceful slumber, often with a smile on his face. Nothing about his circumstances has changed—he remains confined to his crib and surrounded by darkness—and yet, his experience of those circumstances has been transformed.
The same proves true for us too: no matter what we may be going through, when God shows up, He invites into an encounter with joy that runs far deeper than any superficial happiness we may have experienced. In the words of King David,
“You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy…” (Psalm 16:11)
What incredible news this is, considering that the Bible is the story of a God whose presence draws ever closer to us.
As Nehemiah comforted the people of God when they were grieved to discover just how far they had wandered from His ways: “do not weep, for the joy of the Lord is your strength” (Nehemiah 8:10). Even when we turn our backs on God, He refuses to turn his back on us.
Quite the contrary: Isaiah promises that you’ll know when the Lord draws near because “you shall go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall break forth into singing, and all the trees of the fields shall clap their hands” (Isaiah 55:12).
No wonder, then, that joy is described as a fruit of the Spirit, because lasting joy blossoms out of a life that is rooted in God and nurtured by his life-giving presence.
What, then, does this mean for us this advent season, as we anticipate the coming of Emmanuel, “God with us”?
It means we can let go of pursuing happiness, because it is joy that pursues us. Far from being a state that we attain, joy comes to us in the form of a King that we receive.
In the words of my favorite carol:
“O Come, Thou Day-Spring
Come and Cheer
Our Spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death’s dark shadows put to flight
Rejoice, rejoice, Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel”
When we see those Christmas lights twinkling, they are a reminder to us that when the Messiah came, he came to brighten our darkness. There, in the gloom of death’s dark shadows, the light of the world was strung up on a tree. And so we string up our Christmas lights in remembrance, knowing that far from being defeated by our circumstances, the God of joy came to re-define our circumstances—to ensure that a day will come when “everything sad [is] going to come untrue”.
While there may be times of weeping in the night, we celebrate when Joy truly did come in the morning.
This advent season, as you go about preparing the rooms in your home, will you also take the time to prepare room for Him in your heart?