Sunday, 11 December 2022

Gaudete Sunday Year A 2022

What do you wish for your child’s future? I suppose whatever lies ahead, it would have to be coloured by success, right? So, what marks success and how is it measured? The switch in the shade of our vestment is a good opportunity to survey the landscape of what a good future should look like. Firstly, the lightening of purple to a rosy tinge is an indication that the sombre spirit of penitential preparation will soon give way to the exhilaration that salvation is upon us. The entrance antiphon clearly exhorts us to rejoice always in the Lord for He is near.

We rejoice this Sunday because we are also making a transition from John to Jesus. This last Old Testament prophet stands in stark contrast to the one to whom he is the precursor. Everything about John suggests of material misery—isolation from social contact, eating wild honey with locusts and donning hair shirts. Precisely in his nothingness, John is said to be the prophet of joy. In Elizabeth’s womb, upon hearing the voice of the Mother of the Lord, he leapt for joy, thrilled by the proximity of man’s salvation. Years later, at the sight of Jesus in the desert, he rejoices that the Bridegroom has finally arrived. He even encourages his disciples to follow Christ over him.

Yet today’s Gospel shows a different John—a man suffering a crisis of confidence. Arrested, gaoled and in solitary confinement, news of his cousin’s ministry trickled in. Who is this Jesus whose behaviour appears outside the norms of a Messiah?

In response to John’s query, Jesus points to the future as illustrated by Isaiah which John’s disciples themselves could witness. The blind see, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised to life, the Gospel is proclaimed to the poor. Jesus may not be as fiery as Elijah was but He definitely fits the bill of the one whom the world has been waiting for. Indeed, happy the man who does not lose faith in Him. One can picture a John relieved by a realisation that the future has already begun. That is a moment of joy for John.

We may not have fully realised the ideals of Isaiah but we are on the way there. Thus, joy flows from the certainty that we are on the path to salvation. It is more than being happy. It is certainly greater than pleasure because a person under stress, persecuted, tested to the full, can still remain joyful. Sadly, our philosophy of success is geared toward a fulfilment which is at best, psychological or at most, physical. For example, one can be happy from having achieved something great. If not, success can also mean arriving at a stage in life where we can have the best of all things. Remember the rich man who decided that the best way to mark his accomplishments was to build a bigger barn so that he can enjoy his harvest. Happiness or material well-being are good but when they become the goal of life, they do not lead to greater joy.

Joy is more profound than happiness and pleasure. In fact, those who have discovered joy can forgo physical pleasure. They can withstand suffering. Is it any wonder why virginity or celibacy are so misunderstood today only because we have forgotten what joy is? We have somewhat conflated joy with both happiness and pleasure. As a result, the absence of pleasure is almost a condemnation of one’s existence which explains how euthanasia has become such a viable option. What is the point living when there is no pleasure? When healthcare applies the standard “quality of life”, it does not consider that joy can be intangible. Instead, it looks at qualities which are measurable either psychologically or physically. In a way, we are condemned to dull ourselves with “narcotics” of all kinds, from adrenalin rushes to pain-numbing drugs to food bingeing, to carnal indulgences.

It is possible to live without pleasure or even happiness but it impossible to live without joy. When pleasure becomes the goal of existence, then to live without sensible satisfaction is almost analogous to death. When gratification is the aim of our seeking, we shall never discover joy. Why? Because joy can only be discovered when there is sublimation meaning that there is purification involved. To illustrate, think of a beautiful object which we may characterise as sublime. Its beauty draws us up. Now visualise a helicopter in a mission to rescue a person trapped on the rooftop of a burning building and is in mortal danger. The helicopter hovers above, lowers the ladder and as the man climbs the ladder, he is weighed down by bags. How to be saved when the bags hinder the man’s ascent? Salvation requires letting go of the bags. In like manner, to achieve the sublime, what is required is sublimation. Another word is purification.

Pleasure is a good which we should appreciate but it must never be the goal of life. For when one has found joy, it is possible to leave behind everything in order to “enjoy”, which is, to be taken up by joy. Like the man who finds the priceless pearl, selling away everything he has in order to purchase the pearl. Sadly, awash in materialism, we continue to mistake joy with happiness or pleasure that material goods can supply. One of the challenges we face has to do with living for a future in which we deny ourselves what is good now for what will be better later. But so far, the road to fulfilment is to give in to whatever pleasures there are which can makes us “happy” even though momentarily.

John is truly a prophet of joy because he sees himself best in the shadow of the Bridegroom. Now that He has arrived, John knows that he is no longer needed. Such a sentiment can only be expressed by someone who has found true joy in being who he is, a precursor. Nothing more. Nothing less. By present standard, John would have been classified an abject failure. He has no material gains to show for his success. In fact, celibates and virgins share the same kind of lack. But they, like John, are actually pointers of joy. Success is neither heightening our pleasure nor increasing our happiness. Instead, success is deepening our joy. In the ancient tradition of the Church, two categories of people, virgins and celibates, teach us, by their very denial of the goods that life offers, direct our attention to the truth that success is wherever Christ is found.

The liturgy echoes this repeatedly throughout the weeks of Advent: “Teach us to judge wisely the things of earth and hold firm to the things of heaven”. A successful future is not automatically rosy even as the colour of the vestment suggests so. Instead, it is proposed by the collect of the 1st Sunday of Advent as the “resolve to run forth to meet His Christ” whose coming we are preparing for. Perhaps this Christmas, we can take delight that the rosy hue symbolises the joy that only Christ can give. The greatest success in life is neither wealth nor happiness but the joy of possessing Christ.