Are We There Yet? Joy

December 14, 2025 homily on Isaiah 35:1-10 and Matthew 11:2-11 by Pastor Galen for the Third Sunday of Advent

“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 35:10.

The Joy of Christmas Morning

It’s hard to think of a more joyous scene than children on Christmas morning, waking up early and rushing downstairs to see what hidden treasures may be awaiting them in their stockings or under the tree. And then, when they are finally allowed to tear into them, wrapping paper flying everywhere, squeals of delight mixed with exclamations of surprise as those hidden treasures are revealed.

When I was growing up, our family did things a little differently. We didn’t have a Christmas tree, or stockings hung by the fireplace, but on Christmas Eve there were beautifully wrapped presents waiting for us when we came home from the candlelight service at the United Methodist Church around the corner from our house. But rather than tearing into the presents all at once, my parents had created a ritual. My mom would light some candles and turn on Christmas records (she still had—and still has—a vinyl record player), and then, one by one, youngest to oldest, we would take turns opening a single present at a time. Everyone gave their full attention to the person opening their gift in that moment. When they finished, we moved on to the next person, cycling back around until all of the presents had been opened.

Although perhaps not as raucous as the first scene I described, our family’s way of opening presents was no less joyous, just perhaps a little more restrained. There was something fun and delightful about having everyone’s attention as I opened my surprises, while at the same time getting to really see and enjoy the reactions on my brother’s and my parents’ faces when they opened the presents I had made or bought for them.

Joy in the Wilderness

My point is that joy can look different. Often, we imagine joy as unrestrained, raucous and rambunctious. The imagery that Isaiah paints for us in Isaiah 35 certainly fits that picture. He begins by talking about the wilderness and dry land blossoming abundantly and rejoicing with joy and singing (Isaiah 35:2). He speaks of encouraging those who are fearful with the good news that God is coming to save them. He speaks of the eyes of the blind being opened and the ears of the deaf being unstopped (Isaiah 35:5), the lame leaping like a deer, and those who were unable to speak singing for joy (Isaiah 35:6). Burning sand becomes a pool, the thirsty ground springs of water (Isaiah 35:7), and the passage ends with the ransomed of the Lord returning to Zion with singing, everlasting joy upon their heads, obtaining joy and gladness, while sorrow and sighing flee away.

What a joyous, beautiful image! Wrapping paper flying everywhere. Shouts of joy and delight. Organized (or perhaps not-so-organized) joyful chaos. This was a powerful and hopeful vision for God’s people, especially during times when they were taken into exile and longed to be free to return home.

A Built-In Warning

But sprinkled into Isaiah’s prophecy are some not-so-subtle hints that the coming of the Lord would not be such a joyous occasion for everyone.

In verse 4, Isaiah says, “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.’” And a few verses later, when describing the Holy Way, Isaiah says, “The unclean shall not travel on it; they shall not be found there, but the redeemed shall walk there” (Isaiah 35:8).

Taken together, it’s not hard to see how Isaiah’s prophecy of joy for God’s people was also understood as a prophecy of judgment for those who opposed God’s will. And so, during times of exile and later under Roman occupation, many longed for a Messiah who would come with power, overthrow their enemies, restore an earthly kingdom, and punish those who oppressed them. They hoped for something dramatic—something like an Armageddon-type day when God would unleash judgment and set everything right all at once.

A Messiah Not Quite What They Expected

And then, suddenly, after generations of silence, a voice cried out in the wilderness, calling people to prepare for the coming of the Lord. John the Baptizer appeared, preaching repentance, baptizing people, and pointing to Jesus as the one they had been waiting for.

The problem was that Jesus’ ministry didn’t include the vengeance and wrath many were expecting. He didn’t raise an army to overthrow Rome. He didn’t seek political power. In fact, the longer people watched him, the more they began to wonder whether he really was the Messiah after all.

Even John the Baptist wondered. From prison (where he had been thrown for speaking out against King Herod’s corruption) he sent his disciples to ask Jesus if he truly was the one they had been waiting for.

Jesus responded not with speeches or threats, but by pointing to what he was doing: the blind received their sight, the lame walked, lepers were cleansed, the deaf heard, the dead were raised, and good news was proclaimed to the poor.

No, Jesus did not come like a hurricane or a tornado, tearing everything down. He did not come to destroy his enemies through violence. Instead, he came humbly and gently—bringing healing one life at a time, one relationship at a time, one person at a time. Enemies were turned into friends. People who never would have entered the same building. Zealots and tax collectors became disciples together. Outcasts and those on the margins were brought into the center. Rather than the unclean being rejected, they were made clean.

Jesus was, in a sense, letting them unwrap one gift at a time, inviting them to linger, to pay attention, to truly experience God’s presence among them. He brought true, lasting, life-changing joy—not through violence or destruction, but through love, mercy, and transformation.

Receiving Joy One Gift at a Time

I wonder if part of our struggle with joy today is that we are often looking for the dramatic version, the wrapping-paper-flying-everywhere kind of joy, when Jesus is offering us something quieter and deeper. We want everything fixed at once. We want suffering to end immediately. We want clarity, certainty, and resolution right now.

But Jesus often comes to us the way he came to the world: patiently, gently, one gift at a time. Sometimes joy comes not in a single overwhelming moment, but in small signs of healing, reconciliation, forgiveness, or hope. Sometimes joy looks like learning to pay attention to God’s presence in the midst of ordinary moments, difficult seasons, and unfinished stories.

Advent invites us to slow down, to watch, and to wait, not because nothing is happening, but because God is at work in ways we may not immediately recognize.

Conclusion: Everlasting Joy

Isaiah promises a day when sorrow and sighing will flee away, when everlasting joy will rest upon God’s people. In Jesus, that promise has already begun to be fulfilled, but not all at once. The joy of Christ comes to us the way gifts were opened in my family, and how our family still opens them today: intentionally, relationally, with attention and care.

This Advent, may we resist the urge to rush ahead or demand spectacle. Instead, may we open ourselves to the joy Christ offers, receiving it patiently, noticing it carefully, and trusting that God’s quiet work among us is leading us toward a joy that truly lasts.

Amen!

Questions for Personal Reflection in Response to Today’s Sermon:

1. When you think of joy, what images or expectations come to mind? How might those expectations shape what you notice or miss in your spiritual life?
2. Where in your life right now might Jesus be offering joy quietly, one gift at a time, rather than all at once?
3. Are there places where you are waiting for God to act dramatically, when God may instead be working patiently and gently?
4. Who might God be inviting you to see differently—an enemy, a stranger, or someone on the margins—through the transforming joy of Christ?
5. This Advent, what would it look like for you to slow down and receive Christ’s joy with attention and gratitude?