“Rejoice in the Lord always: again I say, rejoice. Let your modesty be known to all men: The Lord is nigh.” (Philippians 4:4–5)
With these resounding words, Holy Church greets us on Gaudete Sunday, the third Sunday of Advent, drawing us into a holy joy that is not frivolous, but rooted in the nearness of the Lord. It is a Sunday of rose-colored vestments, of the organ’s return, and of the candle of joy. Yet it is also deeply sober — for true joy in Catholic tradition springs not from the world’s offerings, but from the soul’s preparation for the coming of Christ.
Saint Paul’s exhortation to the Philippians is the opening note of this liturgical symphony: “Rejoice in the Lord always… the Lord is nigh.” His joy is not the joy of abundance or ease, but of a soul anchored in divine peace amid tribulation. As St. John Chrysostom comments on this passage:
“This joy is not worldly joy; it is not sensual delight. It is joy in the Lord — in the hope of good things to come, in the love of God and of virtue. For he who rejoices in the Lord can bear all griefs and troubles.”
(Homilies on Philippians, Homily 13)
This distinction is crucial: the Church bids us rejoice not in what we feel, but in Whom we await. And in this expectation, “The Lord is nigh.”
Yet what does it mean that the Lord is near? Is it the nearness of His Nativity in Bethlehem, now commemorated anew? Yes, but more still. It is His advent into the soul through grace, and ultimately, His second coming in glory.
This dual advent — historical and eschatological — is illuminated in today’s Gospel (John 1:19–28), where the voice of St. John the Baptist echoes across the Jordan:
“I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, Make straight the way of the Lord.”
Here is the humble Forerunner, who declares himself to be not the Christ, not Elias, not the Prophet, but merely the vox clamantis in deserto. He is the voice, but Christ is the Word.
St. Augustine, meditating on this passage, offers a profound image of the relationship between John and Jesus:
“John was the voice, but the Lord is the Word. When I think of what a voice is without a word, I think of a cry in the wilderness. But if the Word is not present, the voice is empty.”
(Tractates on the Gospel of John, Tractate 2)
Thus, John’s entire mission is to prepare for the coming of the Word — not to draw attention to himself, but to point all things toward Christ, the true Light.
And so, in Advent, the Church takes up this same mission. Like the Baptist, she calls us to prepare, to make straight the paths of our hearts, to lower the mountains of pride and raise up the valleys of despair. As St. Gregory the Great teaches:
“John was the boundary between the Old and the New Testaments. The Lord Himself said: ‘The law and the prophets were until John’ (Luke 16:16). Thus John was a kind of hinge joining the two Testaments.”
(Homily VII on the Gospels)
And indeed, in this hinge, we ourselves live — between the first coming of Christ in humility and His final coming in majesty. That is why Paul continues in his Epistle: “Be nothing solicitous; but in every thing, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your petitions be made known to God.”
The Church Fathers saw in this not merely advice for spiritual calm, but a command to radical trust. St. Cyril of Alexandria says:
“Those who have cast their care upon God find peace, for they are not weighed down by the world’s anxieties. This peace, which is beyond all understanding, guards the heart from the attacks of the enemy.”
In this final stretch of Advent, then, we are exhorted to a threefold path:
- To rejoice in the Lord always, for joy is the fruit of hope.
- To imitate the humility of the Baptist, who said of Christ: “He must increase, and I must decrease.”
- To seek the peace of God, through prayer, supplication, and thanksgiving.
Let us take heart from the ancient liturgy, which today lifts us from penitence into the joyful promise of salvation. The Introit sings:
“Gaudete in Domino semper: iterum dico, gaudete.”
And Holy Church, radiant in rose, points us toward Bethlehem, not as sentimental travelers, but as vigilant disciples. The Light is drawing near.