What? Gaudete. It’s Latin. Pronounced “Gow-dah-tay.” Gaudete. It means “rejoice.” It is an imperative. “Rejoice!” It comes from a 16th Century Christmas carol, published in a Finnish/Swedish collection of sacred songs in 1582. “Gaudete, Gaudete! Christus est natus ex Maria virgine, Gaudete.” (And, mind you, my spell check is throwing a wobbly right now.) Which translates as “Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born of the Virgin Mary - rejoice!” There are verses, but my Latin typing skills are rusty, to say the least, so we’ll leave it at that. Besides it is only in the chorus that the word “Gaudete” appears anyway.
The other fascinating thing about this old carol (and aren’t you just fascinated? I know I am) is that this song was released in the 70's by the British folk group Steeleye Span (No, not Steely Dan, that’s someone else - Boomers! Sheesh!) And to this day it remains only one of three Latin songs that made the top ten on the British pop charts. The other two being two versions of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Pie Jesu from his Requiem back in the late 80's.
Now, aren’t you just amazed? I love Wikipedia. Anyway, what’s all this about, you’re wondering, I’m sure. Well, this Sunday is Gaudete Sunday. The Third Sunday of Advent is always set apart. It is the one that has the pink or rose colored candle. In some traditions, it is called Mary’s Sunday, and is filled with the story from Mary’s point of view, or is designed to help us honor and celebrate Mary. But in others, it is simply Gaudete Sunday – a reminder, a call, a command to rejoice.
Yeah, it’s that imperative that gets me. Maybe it should be gaudeo, the infinitive - to rejoice. Maybe it should be presented as an invitation, rather than as a command. Rejoicing isn’t really something one does on command. I went to rehearsal for the Cantata which is being presented this Sunday afternoon (no, no, stop worrying, I’m the narrator) and while I was waiting for it all to begin and sitting in the middle of the sanctuary, one of the choir members passed by me and said “If you’re going to be here, then you have to smile!” I said, I’d have to look at the contract, since I didn’t know that was a part of the deal.
You have to smile. Rejoice, exclamation point. It’s not an easy thing to do. Press it too hard with someone who doesn’t want to be happy and you’re likely to get a poke in the snoot! Or enduring someone trying to cheer you up when you don’t want to be cheered can one of those uncomfortable moments they make tv sitcoms about. Except it doesn’t feel very funny.
I know, I know, you can choose your attitude. The only thing you have control over in this life is how you respond to stuff that happens. I know all that, and I even believe all of that. But sometimes the dark clouds of despair are beyond our own capacity to break through. The weight of circumstances, the burden of events, the feelings of abandonment, the shattered heart, the leaden stomach ... shall I go on? Sometimes an internal attitude adjustment is not what we need, not what will work. Sometimes pasting on a smile is a means to get our “comforters” to leave us alone, and is only skin deep.
Gaudete Sunday seems a hollow exercise in those moments, on those days. Can we command joy? It seems unlikely, an exercise in futility. And yet, here it is. So, what do we do with it? Light the pink candle and pretend? Or is there something more?
Isaiah seems to think so. Three Sundays in a row is a heavy diet of this prophet, sorry about that. But listen again, maybe there is something here after all.
Isaiah 35:1-10 The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom; like the crocus 2 it shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice with joy and singing. The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it, the majesty of Carmel and Sharon. They shall see the glory of the LORD, the majesty of our God. 3 Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. 4 Say to those who are of a fearful heart, "Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God. He will come with vengeance, with terrible recompense. He will come and save you." 5 Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; 6 then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy. For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert; 7 the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water; the haunt of jackals shall become a swamp, the grass shall become reeds and rushes. 8 A highway shall be there, and it shall be called the Holy Way; the unclean shall not travel on it, but it shall be for God's people; no traveler, not even fools, shall go astray. 9 No lion shall be there, nor shall any ravenous beast come up on it; they shall not be found there, but the redeemed shall walk there. 10 And the ransomed of the LORD shall return, and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.
Isaiah’s hearers weren’t just having a bad day, they were broken into little pieces. They were exiled, they were impoverished, they were homeless, families torn apart, abused ... it was not something to be solved with a command to rejoice. So, Isaiah drew them a picture.
I could take a side track into a little discussion of art therapy, but instead I’ll remind you of the power of vision. Sometimes dead ends occur because of a lack of imagination. There are no options, because you can’t think of any, you can’t see any. An experience of despair, of hopelessness is a dark experience. And the best counter to darkness is to bring a little light. Because in the light you can see what was hidden before. Isaiah wanted his people to see another possibility, different from the one they were living. As a desert people, the dream is always lush, fruitful. As a broken people, the dream is about wholeness and strength. As a hunted people, the dream is about safety and protection. As a oppressed people, the dream is about joy.
But, pay attention, it is not a “smile things could be worse” kind of message. There is full acknowledgment of the seriousness of the situation. The rejoicing comes from the land itself first. It comes from creation at the beginning of the chapter. Sort of like Jesus telling the Pharisees who were banging on the ceiling of the Palm Sunday party, “If these were silent, the stones would cry out.” God knows, Isaiah knows that the people don’t have the breath for shouting for joy, so God will take care of it. Meanwhile, words of encouragement will be given. Words that lift up, that give strength, that give hope. Words about a presence. In the midst of abandonment, the dream is about community, about relationship. Behold, he will come and save you.
And what will that salvation feel like? Like having your feet put back on the road. Like finally you just might be getting somewhere. And that somewhere is home. Home, where hope resides, and where joy is available. They shall obtain joy, promises Isaiah. You might not have it now, it might be out of reach now, he agrees, but someday joy will be available. That’s the promise.
And how strong is that promise? Ah, my favorite verse in the whole chapter tells us how powerful this promise is. Go back to verse 8, about the highway, the holy way. Take a look at the last part. “No traveler, not even fools, shall go astray.” What great comfort to fools like me. Even when it looks like we’re lost, we’re not lost. When our feet have been set on the road, we stay on the road. All the way to joy.
The other fascinating thing about this old carol (and aren’t you just fascinated? I know I am) is that this song was released in the 70's by the British folk group Steeleye Span (No, not Steely Dan, that’s someone else - Boomers! Sheesh!) And to this day it remains only one of three Latin songs that made the top ten on the British pop charts. The other two being two versions of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Pie Jesu from his Requiem back in the late 80's.
Now, aren’t you just amazed? I love Wikipedia. Anyway, what’s all this about, you’re wondering, I’m sure. Well, this Sunday is Gaudete Sunday. The Third Sunday of Advent is always set apart. It is the one that has the pink or rose colored candle. In some traditions, it is called Mary’s Sunday, and is filled with the story from Mary’s point of view, or is designed to help us honor and celebrate Mary. But in others, it is simply Gaudete Sunday – a reminder, a call, a command to rejoice.
Yeah, it’s that imperative that gets me. Maybe it should be gaudeo, the infinitive - to rejoice. Maybe it should be presented as an invitation, rather than as a command. Rejoicing isn’t really something one does on command. I went to rehearsal for the Cantata which is being presented this Sunday afternoon (no, no, stop worrying, I’m the narrator) and while I was waiting for it all to begin and sitting in the middle of the sanctuary, one of the choir members passed by me and said “If you’re going to be here, then you have to smile!” I said, I’d have to look at the contract, since I didn’t know that was a part of the deal.
You have to smile. Rejoice, exclamation point. It’s not an easy thing to do. Press it too hard with someone who doesn’t want to be happy and you’re likely to get a poke in the snoot! Or enduring someone trying to cheer you up when you don’t want to be cheered can one of those uncomfortable moments they make tv sitcoms about. Except it doesn’t feel very funny.
I know, I know, you can choose your attitude. The only thing you have control over in this life is how you respond to stuff that happens. I know all that, and I even believe all of that. But sometimes the dark clouds of despair are beyond our own capacity to break through. The weight of circumstances, the burden of events, the feelings of abandonment, the shattered heart, the leaden stomach ... shall I go on? Sometimes an internal attitude adjustment is not what we need, not what will work. Sometimes pasting on a smile is a means to get our “comforters” to leave us alone, and is only skin deep.
Gaudete Sunday seems a hollow exercise in those moments, on those days. Can we command joy? It seems unlikely, an exercise in futility. And yet, here it is. So, what do we do with it? Light the pink candle and pretend? Or is there something more?
Isaiah seems to think so. Three Sundays in a row is a heavy diet of this prophet, sorry about that. But listen again, maybe there is something here after all.
Isaiah 35:1-10 The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom; like the crocus 2 it shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice with joy and singing. The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it, the majesty of Carmel and Sharon. They shall see the glory of the LORD, the majesty of our God. 3 Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. 4 Say to those who are of a fearful heart, "Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God. He will come with vengeance, with terrible recompense. He will come and save you." 5 Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; 6 then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy. For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert; 7 the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water; the haunt of jackals shall become a swamp, the grass shall become reeds and rushes. 8 A highway shall be there, and it shall be called the Holy Way; the unclean shall not travel on it, but it shall be for God's people; no traveler, not even fools, shall go astray. 9 No lion shall be there, nor shall any ravenous beast come up on it; they shall not be found there, but the redeemed shall walk there. 10 And the ransomed of the LORD shall return, and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.
Isaiah’s hearers weren’t just having a bad day, they were broken into little pieces. They were exiled, they were impoverished, they were homeless, families torn apart, abused ... it was not something to be solved with a command to rejoice. So, Isaiah drew them a picture.
I could take a side track into a little discussion of art therapy, but instead I’ll remind you of the power of vision. Sometimes dead ends occur because of a lack of imagination. There are no options, because you can’t think of any, you can’t see any. An experience of despair, of hopelessness is a dark experience. And the best counter to darkness is to bring a little light. Because in the light you can see what was hidden before. Isaiah wanted his people to see another possibility, different from the one they were living. As a desert people, the dream is always lush, fruitful. As a broken people, the dream is about wholeness and strength. As a hunted people, the dream is about safety and protection. As a oppressed people, the dream is about joy.
But, pay attention, it is not a “smile things could be worse” kind of message. There is full acknowledgment of the seriousness of the situation. The rejoicing comes from the land itself first. It comes from creation at the beginning of the chapter. Sort of like Jesus telling the Pharisees who were banging on the ceiling of the Palm Sunday party, “If these were silent, the stones would cry out.” God knows, Isaiah knows that the people don’t have the breath for shouting for joy, so God will take care of it. Meanwhile, words of encouragement will be given. Words that lift up, that give strength, that give hope. Words about a presence. In the midst of abandonment, the dream is about community, about relationship. Behold, he will come and save you.
And what will that salvation feel like? Like having your feet put back on the road. Like finally you just might be getting somewhere. And that somewhere is home. Home, where hope resides, and where joy is available. They shall obtain joy, promises Isaiah. You might not have it now, it might be out of reach now, he agrees, but someday joy will be available. That’s the promise.
And how strong is that promise? Ah, my favorite verse in the whole chapter tells us how powerful this promise is. Go back to verse 8, about the highway, the holy way. Take a look at the last part. “No traveler, not even fools, shall go astray.” What great comfort to fools like me. Even when it looks like we’re lost, we’re not lost. When our feet have been set on the road, we stay on the road. All the way to joy.
Gaudete, everybody!
Shalom,
Derek
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