If you scroll through the headlines on any given week, “joy” isn’t exactly the word that leaps off the screen.
Stress? Absolutely.
Outrage? Trending daily.
But joy?
It can feel like a relic from a simpler time. It might also seem like something reserved for kids on Christmas morning. It reminds me of people in commercials who never seem to spill coffee on themselves.
Yet here we are on the Third Sunday of Advent, lighting the candle of joy. And the timing is perfect. Advent is honest about darkness, waiting, and longing, but it’s also stubbornly hopeful. Right in the middle of the waiting, the Lord throws a party and says, “Rejoice.”
For this week, let’s turn to one of the most familiar Christmas passages—so familiar that our ears can skip over the shock of it:
“And the angel said to them, ‘Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people…’”
Luke 2:10, New International Version
“Great joy.” Not average joy. Not momentary joy. Not seasonal joy like the kind that fades once the decorations hit storage bins.
“Great joy.” For all people.
Who gets the message first? Not kings. Not influencers. Not the people you’d assume were on the Lord’s VIP list.
Instead, it was shepherds, ordinary, unnoticed, and working the night shift. The Lord’s joy doesn’t wait for people who “have it all together.” His joy goes looking for people in the dark.
That’s good news for us, too.
Because it means joy is not the same as “everything going right.” Joy isn’t happiness on steroids, and it isn’t naive cheerfulness. Biblical joy has this gritty, defiant quality. It’s the kind of joy that shows up while the world is confusing, while life is messy, and while we’re still waiting for everything to be made right.
For the shepherds, nothing about their circumstances changed instantly. Caesar still ruled. Rome still occupied their land. They still had work to do. But they received something new: a joy big enough to reframe everything else.
We sing “Joy to the World” as if it’s a sweet lullaby for baby Jesus. But it’s actually a victory anthem written not about Christ’s birth, but about His return and reign.
And you know what? That’s perfect for Advent. Because Advent points us both backward and forward:
It goes backward to the manger, where Jesus came near to us. It goes forward to the day He will come again and make all things new.
“Joy to the world, the Lord is come. Let earth receive her King…”
The invitation of Advent joy is this: Receive Him.
Make room.
Open the door.
Let Him reign in the parts of your life that feel dark, tired, stretched thin, or quietly discouraged.
Joy isn’t something you manufacture. It’s something you receive.
This week, consider practicing joy as something that interrupts:
- Pause when something good happens—even something small—and name it as a gift.
- Choose one thing to put down (a habit, a worry, or a doom-scroll) so you can pick up a moment of joy.
- Share a bit of joy with someone who needs it. A text, a call, a cup of coffee—joy multiplies when it moves.
Joy isn’t a feeling to chase. It’s a reality that dawns on us when we lift our eyes to see what God is doing right in the middle of our ordinary lives.
As you light the joy candle this week, may you experience again the joy that doesn’t depend on circumstance. May you feel the joy that the shepherds found in the night. May you experience the joy that still breaks into our world.
Joy to the world.
Joy to your world.
The Lord has come.
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