Advent 3: Joy

As we turn to the third week of Advent, the candle of joy invites us into a mystery that is far deeper than the surface-level cheer so often associated with this season. Last week we sat with the peace of Christ, the shalom that restores what is broken and stills what is unsettled. This week, the tone shifts. Joy erupts. Joy breaks in. Joy refuses to be quiet. And yet joy, much like peace, is not simply an emotion, nor is it a fragile mood. Biblical joy is a reality that comes from outside ourselves, rooted not in circumstances but in the arrival of a Person.

To understand why Advent culminates in joy, we must begin where Scripture does: not in sentiment, but in longing.

Joy in the Midst of Darkness

The Old Testament’s primary word for joy is a vivid, almost startling word. In Hebrew, g̣îl describes a sudden overwhelming emotion, a kind of intense and even “violent” rejoicing. It is something that seizes you, something that sweeps over you. Joy is not polite. Joy does not whisper. Joy arrives with force. And this is the word Isaiah uses in a familiar Advent prophecy:

“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light.
On those living in the land of deep darkness, a light has dawned.
You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy.
They rejoice before You as people rejoice at the harvest,
as warriors rejoice when dividing the plunder.”
—Isaiah 9:2–3

We often imagine darkness as an ancient geopolitical reality. Israel was oppressed. Assyria was rising. Wicked kings reigned. Judgment loomed. All of that is true, and Isaiah spoke into that specific world. Yet Scripture pushes us further. The darkness is not merely historical, it is human. It is the condition of every heart apart from the intervention of God. Isaiah is not only speaking about people who lived twenty-seven hundred years ago; he is speaking about us.

We are the ones who walk in a land of deep darkness. Jesus Himself later calls this the human condition around Him: lostness, blindness, confusion, wandering, and estrangement. The point is not to shame us but to awaken us. Because joy is only joy when it bursts into darkness. Joy is only joy when it arrives where joy should have been impossible. And Advent reminds us that joy does not begin with us searching for God, but with God coming to us.

Why Joy Requires Waiting

Isaiah compares joy to two images: the harvest and the dividing of plunder after battle. Both are images of waiting. A farmer waits months, sometimes years, before joy arrives in the form of a harvest. A warrior waits through danger, risk, and uncertainty before joy comes through victory.

This reveals something essential: joy does not ignore suffering. Joy requires it. Joy presupposes the ache, the longing, the waiting, the labor. Joy is not the opposite of sorrow. Joy is what sorrow makes possible. Suffering does not negate the joy that is coming. In fact, suffering builds the very longing that joy will one day fulfill.

This is the tension Advent helps us feel. The darkness is real, yet it is not final. The waiting is long, yet it is not empty. Joy is coming. Joy is promised.

Joy as Declaration

Psalm ninety-seven opens with this line: “The Lord reigns, let the earth rejoice.”
When the Lord takes His throne, creation sings. Joy becomes a declaration. Joy becomes public. Joy becomes uncontainable.

This is why Luke describes the night of Jesus’ birth the way he does. An entire host of angels erupts in praise over Bethlehem’s fields. Heaven cannot hold back the joy of God breaking into the world. The arrival of Christ provokes the most dramatic outpouring of angelic praise recorded in Scripture. Joy is always meant to be proclaimed. It is never simply internal. It spills out. It reverberates. It testifies. And this is because true joy is not ultimately rooted in circumstances but in the presence of Jesus Himself.

Joy Is a Person

One of the most tender scenes in Scripture takes place before Jesus is even born. Mary enters the home of her cousin Elizabeth, who is pregnant with John the Baptist. The moment Mary’s greeting reaches Elizabeth’s ears, John leaps in her womb. Luke makes the point explicit: the baby leapt for joy.

Before John could speak, before he could understand, before any external circumstance could influence him, joy erupted in him at the presence of Jesus.

This moment reveals the core truth Advent wants to teach us:
Joy is not merely a feeling. Joy is a Person. Joy is Jesus.

Joy enters the world not when circumstances improve, not when suffering ends, not when everything makes sense, but when Christ draws near. Joy is tied to His presence. Wherever He is, joy abounds. Wherever He is not, joy becomes impossible.

This is why joy is not dependent on our mood, our emotional capacity, or our natural optimism. Joy is relational. Joy is experiential. Joy is the overflow of meeting the living God. Joy is what happens when Jesus arrives.

The Difference Between Happiness and Joy

Many modern people confuse joy and happiness, and while they are both positive emotions, they arise from different places. Happiness is typically tied to the self, to personal success, to comfort, to favorable circumstances. Happiness can be good and holy, but happiness does not require vulnerability. Happiness does not demand relationship. Happiness can even coexist with selfishness.

Joy cannot. Joy only emerges where love has taken root. Joy requires vulnerability, sacrifice, and deep relational connection. This is why Scripture so often links joy with love, suffering, and hope. Joy is what the heart experiences when it is given away, when it is opened up, when it is united to someone else. And joy is what happens supremely when we see Christ.

In His presence is fullness of joy. Not partial joy. Not temporary joy. Fullness. Completion. Overflow.

The Labor That Produces Joy

Human joy often follows labor. The birth of a child. The reconciliation of a marriage. The healing of grief. Years of faithfulness and sacrifice often precede our most profound experiences of joy.

And this points us to something astonishing in Christian faith: the joy that saves the world flows from the labor of Christ. On the cross, He endured suffering, grief, abandonment, sin, and death so that we could receive joy. His labor becomes our joy. His pain becomes our peace. His obedience becomes our freedom. His resurrection becomes our hope.

This is why the angels call Jesus’ birth “good tidings of great joy for all people.”
Jesus is not merely the bringer of joy. He is the joy that has come.

The Joy That Is Coming

The joy we experience now through the Holy Spirit is only the first taste. Isaiah promises a greater joy still: the restoration of all things, the end of the world’s mourning, the renewal of creation, and the reunification of all that is fractured. When Jesus returns, the nations will erupt with joy. War will end. Division will cease. Creation will be healed. Human flourishing will be restored. The earth will sing.

Scripture says the first act of the resurrected saints will be this:
“Awake and sing.”
Joy will be the natural response to the presence of the risen Christ.

This is the joy Advent teaches us to long for. The joy of His appearing. The joy of His presence. The joy of all things made new.

Conclusion: The Joy That Meets Us Now

Joy is not naïve. Joy is not shallow. Joy does not deny pain or gloss over suffering. Joy looks darkness in the face and proclaims that it will not last. Joy is what happens when Christ arrives in the very places where we once felt hopeless or alone.

Advent joy is a Person. He has come. He is with us. And He is coming again.
In Him, our sorrow finds meaning. In Him, our waiting is not wasted. In Him, our longing becomes hope. And in Him, even now, we begin to taste the fullness of joy that will one day fill all creation.