Telling Their Stories: “Knowing Joy in Jesus”
Luke 2:1-7
December 21, 2025
Isaiah 7:10-16
Again the Lord spoke to Ahaz, saying, Ask a sign of the Lord your God;
let it be deep as Sheol or high as heaven. But Ahaz said, I will not ask,
and I will not put the Lord to the test. Then Isaiah said: ‘Hear then, O house of David!
Is it too little for you to weary mortals, that you weary my God also?
Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Look, the young woman is with child
and shall bear a son, and shall name him Immanuel. He shall eat curds and honey
by the time he knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good.
For before the child knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good,
the land before whose two kings you are in dread will be deserted.
Luke 2:1-7
In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered.
This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria.
All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth
in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended
from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary,
to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child.
While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child.
And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth,
and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.
The Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.
I must confess –
I probably take for granted what I get to experience in this church during the Advent season.
I cannot help but smile when I see our church children dressed up like angels and lambs
in the Christmas pageant.
The other day, I got to sing Christmas carols with the kindergarten class
as they stood proudly at the front the chapel, smiling at their parents,
wearing LED-illuminated halos and wings.
On Wednesday, I had the humble privilege of lighting a candle as some of our young parents
of the church prayed for others during the Longest Night service.
On Thursday, I saw the look of hope on the face of a Threshold guest
when they received a form of assistance that will not only help them for one day,
but will make a real difference in their life over the coming year.
Last Sunday, I noticed the pure joy of a young family as they visited our Live Nativity
and smiled with laughter as they petted a four-month-old miniature cow.
Her name was Rita, the cow that is.
Tomorrow night, I’ll go bowling with our college students. I always enjoy
catching up with them between celebrations of strikes and spares,
and yes, a few moans over balls that end up in the alley.
Several times during Advent, I have been able to sing with you that beloved old hymn,
“O Come, O Come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel.”
On Christmas Eve, I will get to hold the plate of bread during communion,
and call you each by name as you come forward,
reminding you that “this is the body of Christ, broken for you.”
Then in the later service on Wednesday,
I’ll lift a brightly lit candle before you and with you as we sing “Silent Night, Holy Night.”
And today I hold the sacred task, once again,
of standing in this pulpit and proclaiming good news –
the good news that a child was born to save, to save the world, to save you and me,
from sin and fear, from lonely exile and hopeless despair.
I confess that I have probably often taken for granted the gifts of the Christ-child –
the gifts of hope and peace, of love and joy, of mystery and wonder.
After so many Advent seasons as a pastor, if I don’t pay attention,
I just might take for granted these blessings that come with the celebrations of Jesus’ birth.
One of my pastor friends wrote:
Participating regularly in church (will not necessarily keep us) from experiencing
the injustices and difficult struggles of life, but it will give (us) the hard hat
and steel-toed boots of hope – the hope firmly founded on what (we) have been taught
and what (we) have experienced over the years.
(Participating in church gives us) the hope that God is faithful
and that God is big enough to bear all human anger, and pain, and fear,
as well as share in and be the cause of our deepest joy.” (Rev. Loli Reiter)
In Jesus Christ, the child born in the manger, Emmanuel, God with us,
God became the cause of our deepest joy.
People may think of joy as being happy, and we often use the words interchangeably.
They are related but different. One author wrote,
“Happiness is a transitory response to some external experience.
When the external experience is gone, so is the feeling (of happiness).
But joy is a response of gratitude and delight in God’s eternal blessings.
Joy may accompany happiness, such as the happiness and joy one feels
when witnessing a sunrise or holding a precious baby.
Holy Scripture (and, I would say, the celebrations of Advent) invite us to experience joy,
not as a transitory, passive response, but as a faithful response to God’s eternal blessings.
Paul writes in Philippians 4:1, “Rejoice in the Lord always”; because,
no matter what else is happening, one can find joy in giving thanks for God’s blessings
and focusing on those things that are good, just, and excellent.
Joy is the recognition that we forever stand in God’s steadfast love—
God’s love that was made known in the past,
God’s love that we experience together in the present,
God’s love that we know will bless us once again in the future.
Joy in the midst of whatever difficulties you may be facing this year may feel impossible,
but recognizing God’s mercies at work in the ancient stories of Joseph and Mary,
in shepherds and angels, in Bethlehem and Nazareth, can tap into what joy is all about.
Joy is not fleeting happiness but resting in the awareness of God’s presence in history,
resting in the awareness that God is with us, God is with humanity,
God is with you and with me in the midst of every challenging time.
When we look beyond our current circumstances, no matter how difficult,
we can discover that joy can be found in every season of life,
not just in the expected times, not just in the happy times.
Joy is not just a warm feeling to share at Christmas,
but a lifelong response to what God has done in our lives and what God promises to do.
As we look back on our lives, we recognize the evidence of God’s mercies at work –
in those times of healing or reconciliation, in the birth of the child or a grandchild,
in the prayer that was finally answered, in the unexpected grace that we received.
Joy rises above our every circumstance and is found when we recognize the steadfastness
of God’s love over the course of our lives. (2022 Growing Faith Resources, PracticeJoy)
For me, one of the keys to a faithful and joyful life is J-O-Y, Jesus – Others – Yourself.
If we put Jesus first in our lives, then second, focus our efforts on loving others,
and are willing to put ourselves third,
then we just might be surprised at how fulfilling and joyful this human life can be.
Henri Nouwen claims that Joy is what makes life worth living,
and, strange as it may sound, Nouwen claims that we can choose joy.
Have you ever noticed how two people can be part of the same event,
but one will choose to live it quite differently from the other?
One will choose to trust that what happened, painful as it may be, holds a promise.
The other will choose despair and find themselves almost destroyed by it.
What makes us human is precisely this freedom of choice.
Eventually, Nouwen writes, we discover that Joy is hidden in compassion.
The word compassion literally means, “to suffer with.”
It seems quite unlikely that suffering with another person would bring joy.
Yet being with a person in pain, offering simple presence to someone in despair,
sharing with a friend times of confusion and uncertainty. . .
such experiences can bring us deep joy –
not happiness, not excitement, not great satisfaction, but the quiet joy
of being there for someone else and living in deep solidarity
with our brothers and sisters in this human family.
Often, this is a solidarity in weakness, in brokenness, in woundedness,
but it leads us to the center of joy, which is sharing our humanity with others.
(adapted from Father Henri J.M. Nouwen’s book, “Bread for the Journey”, 1997)
Many of you have held the hand of a loved one as they were dying.
Many have embraced an alcoholic who finally admitted that they were powerless
over their addiction and that their life had become unmanageable.
Many have walked with a friend through an agonizing divorce or the grave illness of a child.
These life experiences, these human experiences, are not to be desired, surely,
but in one sense they are quite necessary in order for us to become fully human.
At first sight, joy seems to be connected with being different.
You receive a compliment or win an award,
and you experience the joy of not being the same as others.
You are faster, smarter, or more beautiful, and it is that difference that brings you joy.
But such joy is very temporary. True joy is hidden where we are the same as other people:
fragile and mortal. It is the joy of belonging to the human race.
It is the joy of being with others as a friend, a companion, a fellow traveller.
This is the joy of Jesus, who is Emmanuel: God-with-us. (Henri Nouwen)
A friend who is a spiritual director says that nothing spiritually or emotionally significant
happens on a pilgrimage until someone becomes vulnerable,
until someone opens up and shares their vulnerability.
Once that door is cracked opened, others become willing to show their vulnerability as well.
Consider how God, in Jesus born in a stable, became vulnerable.
The Almighty God of heaven and earth, of moons and stars,
of planets and solar systems and universes and black holes and dark matter,
chose to become vulnerable in human form.
Why? So that one day we too might choose vulnerability over power mongering,
that we might choose compassion over apathy,
that we might choose the joy of human connection over the despair of alienation.
What brings us true joy in life, ultimately, is the fruitfulness of human connection.
Jesus wept with grieving sisters. Jesus listened to the struggles of lifelong paralytics.
Jesus reached out to touch outcast lepers.
In becoming fully human, he became vulnerable.
He experienced the depths of human pain and suffering,
and he knew more joy than you and I can imagine.
In Colossians 3, we discover a passage that encourages us to live and act
as did the one born in a stable long ago.
As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved,
clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.
Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other;
just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.
Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.
And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts…And be thankful…
with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God.
And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus,
giving thanks to God the Father through him.
Friends, you and I are not going to solve all of the world’s problems.
We are not necessarily going to solve all of our own problems or our family’s problems,
but we can simply be with people.
We can allow ourselves to become vulnerable, as Jesus did,
so that we can be fully present for people and love them,
regardless of whatever challenges we may be facing.
And as we do so, “…when we live in partnership with the divine for the healing and repair
of this world, we will experience deep and lasting joy on the journey,
even though the road may be difficult, (and at times) even dangerous.
(Barry Shelley, Church of the Covenant, Boston, MA, Sunday, November 8, 2009)
In Jesus Christ, the child born in the manger, Emmanuel, God with us,
God forever became our inspiration and the cause of our deepest joy.
Amen.
