Great Joy

SUMMARY

Karl Ihfe continues Broadway's Advent series "Holy Night" by examining joy through the lens of Luke 2 and the shepherds' encounter with the newborn Jesus. Using a clip from The Chosen to illustrate the scene, Karl distinguishes between surface-level happiness and the deeper contentedness that characterizes true joy. He points out that the first Advent joy came amid difficult circumstances - Mary and Joseph alone in a barn, shepherds who were social outcasts - yet joy was found in trusting God's faithfulness.

Karl shares personal stories that illustrate joy in unexpected places, including his mother's battle with cancer where she held onto the truth "I don't know what the day holds, but I know who holds the day," and his son Gabe's 11-day stay in the NICU where they experienced profound joy even in a place no parent wants to be. He connects these experiences to Jesus' teaching in John 15 about remaining in God's love so that "my joy may be in you and your joy would be complete." Karl emphasizes that when certainty isn't possible, faithfulness is still on the table, and that joy comes from staying connected to God's love even through trials. He concludes by challenging the congregation to choose joy this holiday season - to be God's joyful people who engage the world with hope rather than despair, contentment rather than complaint, trusting that God is doing something bigger and inviting us to be part of it.

TRANSCRIPTION:

Well, if you have your Bible with you, I invite you to turn over to Luke, chapter two. We're in week three of our Advent series called Holy Night. We've been thinking together and looking back through the lens of Luke's version of this story in the second chapter of his gospel. We've been thinking each week through one of the lenses of the Advent season. So we started in week one with the lens of hope and thinking about how nothing is impossible with God.

That promise that is given to Mary is this promise that we also know nothing's impossible with God. Last week we heard Jeremy talk about through the lens of peace and shalom. Now, I heard mention that he dug into my past and found a picture of me and showed it. I'm not going to do the same thing to him. I'm going to forgive him.

But one day all things will be made right. Jeremy, that day is yet to come, but it will. We were thinking about the shalom of God and how in the coming of Christ, we know that what God has inaugurated in that first coming, he will consummate in the second coming that one day all things will be made new. And we look forward to that day. Today we're going to look through the lens of joy, go back into the story and consider what this might be, the story of joy.

And I want to do so by taking us back to a clip from the Chosen. We've been doing each week, kind of looking at their interpretation of some of these scenes and imagining, allowing it to inspire our imaginations. And this scene's going to pick up where Jeremy's clip left off last week. But before we do, let me just remind you once again of the words that were spoken over the shepherds before this scene arrives. The angel said to them, Luke tells us, do not be afraid.

I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David, a savior has been born to you. He is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be assigned to you. You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.

And suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, glory to God in the highest heaven and on earth, peace to those on whom his favor rests. Can you imagine that scene? Let's take a look at how the Chosen portrays it. It's a powerful scene. As these shepherds encounter, they find the child they've been looking for.

But they also find something else. At least this one shepherd in particular finds more than he expected. He finds Healing. I love this picture of Mary taking off one of the cloths and just handing it to the shepherd. He finds healing in an unexpected way and joy in an unexpected place.

And isn't that often how. How it turns out with joy? It's different than happiness. A lot of people equate joy and happiness as the same thing. But as we talked about last week, peace of the world knows and the peace that God promises, those are two different things.

Joy includes happiness, certainly. And we see that in this scene, don't we? We see the laughter and those smiles so wide it seems about to break their cheeks off. And that almost giddiness. Certainly those are parts, but with joy, there's this deeper aspect to it in there, a deeper aspect that goes beyond the surface.

We often think of it as, or at least I think of it as contentedness, a contentedness that comes with joy. And I want to dive into that for just a minute. Because to be content, it's not pretending that everything is fine. It's not denial. It's not just simply positive thinking.

You see, hope has come to us because nothing is impossible with God. And peace has come because God is doing something. He's going to make all things new. And when hope and peace settle into our souls, what rises up is joy. Maybe you notice the theme as we run through Advent, how these four aspects of love, peace, hope and joy all run together.

Joy is not determined by our circumstances or by situation. Have you ever noticed just the seemingly impossible places that joy shows up? It shows up in hospitals, not only in the maternity wards, which is a great place to find joy, but also in hospice care.

If you have a conversation with my brother Eddie, he'll tell you about how joy is found in the prison where people who have been locked up because of bad decisions and poor choices and much trauma in their life, and yet we find joy there. Why? Because they have discovered and found life in Christ. Whether it's in the midst of a cure or a terminal diagnosis, joy is found in. The scene in Luke we witnessed reminds us of how that first Advent joy came in the midst of a lot of pain and sorrow.

When we think about Joseph and Mary themselves, instead of celebrating in a hospital room with all their family gathered around and cheering and hooraying and high fiving. Instead of that, we find them alone in a cave or a barn, because apparently there wasn't anyone who could or would host them in their own home, surrounded by animals.

I know many of us will be traveling to be with our family. Maybe some of your family will be traveling to be with you. How many of you got your barn ready? How many of you looking forward to spending the night in that cave out back behind the house? No.

And yet that's where Joseph and Mary found themselves. What about the shepherds? You know, they weren't out late in the middle of the night watching over the sheep because it was the most honorable job to have. It wasn't like, hooray, I get to be out. No, no, These were.

These were men who suffered all kinds of social stigma and religious rejection. They were the outcasts, kind of pushed aside, often forgotten and overlooked. And it's there, right in the middle of their rejection, that these angels appear and they discover a joy that they hadn't known before. I love how the shepherd in the scene says, we've been waiting so long, and doesn't begin to scratch the surface of that. Waiting for them was beyond just a promise, but this idea of God, could there be a new hope, a new joy, a new life?

I remember in the midst of my mom's battle with cancer, there were many hard days and nights, but she had adopted this mantra. I've shared it with you before. I don't know what the day holds, but I know who holds the day. Not knowing what was going to come, she knew who would be with her. And there was a joy that my mom knew not because all things were going well.

In fact, if you just looked at it from the surface, anytime, things could have gone wrong. They went the worst way possible. And yet my mom, each day would hold on to this reality, this truth, this hope.

I don't know what the day holds, but I know who holds the day. And that hope gave birth to peace in her. That even as she was facing the end of her days, this joy welled up in her. She had based her whole life on this promise. One day, a child had been born in Bethlehem, and because of that, nothing would ever be the same again.

There are so many others, too, who have bet their life on the same promise, whether it was at Sunset Ridge in San Antonio, where I grew up, or here at Broadway. I was just thinking this week of so many friends, Bob Barnhill, John Horn and Doris Mullican, Dixie McWilliams and Beth Bryant and Floyd Stumbo. And getting word this morning of Larry Christian Right, those saints who had this joy, a deep. A deep and abiding joy. It was reflective of that promise that Paul says to the church in Corinth.

He'd say, outwardly, we're wasting away. Friends. But listen, church, inwardly. Every day we're being renewed so we don't lose heart. You see, what the Advent story reminds us is that true hope and peace and joy, they aren't the product of everything always working out on time and in the way we hoped.

In fact, if we've learned anything from this very first Advent story, it's often the opposite. Which is why it's so amazing to me that in the midst of this, of a world that had turned rogue, had gone rogue against God and all his promises, right? Darkness had invaded. There was so much sin and suffering and struggle. That's when Jesus chooses to put on flesh.

And he comes to earth not in power or in victory formation or surrounded by tens of thousands of angels. Instead, he comes as a tiny baby, helpless, born to a couple of parents who were way over their heads. I mean, they were way over their heads, just like any parent who knows that feeling. They had no place to stay, but they did know God is faithful, that God had made a promise. And so they had a hope and a peace that weren't explainable to their friends because the story sure wasn't how this all came about.

There's no way to explain that. And yet they had a peace and a hope that went beyond words. And there, alone in their makeshift maternity ward, cave, barn, surrounded by animals, they experience a deep joy.

I can't imagine. I can't help but imagine this experience had a profound impact on them. I wonder if that's why Luke included, verse 19. Did you hear that? As Dee was reading that for us just a few moments ago, right after the shepherds have left and they're telling people, and this buzz is kind of happening.

We're told Mary, she just treasured this all up in her heart. She pondered things. I told you before about the birth of our son Gabe. It came unexpectedly, like four, almost five weeks, unexpectedly early. We weren't prepared, and so we rushed to the hospital.

It caught us off guard. And as soon as he was born, I got to go back with the nurses as they cleaned him, but they noticed his shallow breathing. They said, we think you're having some trouble. And so they bring the doctor back in. The doctor says, yes, he needs to go to the NICU.

And so off he gets to the NICU. Meanwhile, Kaley's blood pressure had been playing havoc with her, and so they had given her some money to level that out, but that meant she had to stay in bed. She couldn't go visit him. And so we're sitting in the midst of this moment. What do we do now?

Some friends of ours had come by earlier in the day to visit, and they had mistakenly gone back to the church and said, hey, the Ives want to be alone. They just want to be alone. So nobody call them. Nobody, nobody contact them. Just leave them be.

And in the midst of that, Kaley and I are together going, why is nobody calling God? Are we alone? Have you forgotten about us? We called my parents, and they literally had just pulled into the driveway in Cloudcroft, New Mexico. We were in Austin, Texas.

Kaley's parents are both working full time. They're both at their jobs and they're going to. They got three girls at home, so they can't just run. So we knew, okay, in another day or so, we're going to have some more people with us. But, man, that was a long night.

A long night in the cave where we wondered needs to say we felt like we were alone. But I can tell you that experience had a profound impact on us. Gabe's first fourth of July celebration was in the NICU, and luckily he had a window seat. And Kaley and I sat next to his side and watched the firework from the window.

And looking out, we experienced this joy.

I don't know how to explain it.

I mean, bringing Gabe home after 11 days in the NICU, right? There was joy. There was happiness and thrill and relief and all those things, but there was this sense of peace and a profound difference.

We experienced joy in the NICU where no parent wants to be. I remember riding up and down the elevator, and you knew if you were going to this particular floor, you knew they were going with you. We were riding one day with an older couple who were kind of watching over their grandkid and this brand new couple, you could tell she was still in the wheelchair, just had given birth. And as we're riding up, there's kind of this silence. And this older couple looks over at the young couple and says, first time in the NICU.

And looked over at us and they said, what about you guys? You know, it had been about eight or nine days. So we were veterans, right? We felt like, okay, we know, you know, nine, 10 days, hopefully one or two more. And we said, what about you?

They said, six months, probably got another six to go.

There's this. This fellowship is formed as we get off the elevator and we all walk into this place that none of us want to be, and we're surrounded by others. And in the midst of that, to talk with these families who have found in some Way, that's hard to describe a joy that I get to be here today, my little kiddos getting taken care of and watched over, that I have a fellowship of people that I'd never want to be in fellowship with. But now we're in the club together.

I wonder how many times Jesus asked his parents about that night, about that story. I can't help but imagine Joseph telling that story. And every time he tells it, it's a different animal that came up and licked the side of Jesus face. You know, dad, come on, dad, you know. And Mary just kind of hanging back, smiling, just pondering that moment.

Joseph telling of the tears and the worry and the concern. And all of a sudden, in burst these shepherds, right, with wild eyes and crazy hair, pointing at the kid and just, you know, adding to the story. In the midst of pain and fear and uncertainty and loneliness, there's still available to those who trust in God, this joy.

And so Joseph said, best night of my life.

It makes sense to me then later on that as Jesus is preparing his disciples to say, I'm going to go away, Tim and Marie read this passage for us. A moment ago. I said, telling the story, he says this. As the Father has loved me, so I've loved you. Remain in my love.

If you keep my commands, you'll remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commands and remain in his love. I've told you this so that my joy may be in you and your joy would be complete.

Because there's going to come a moment where you're going to feel lost and forgotten, where you're gonna think the world and everyone and everything in it is against you. And at times it may very well be. But don't forget what I've told you. Don't forget what I've shown you. Remain in me, he says, just like a branch stays connected to the vine.

Remain in me. Remain connected in my love. The way you do that is by keep doing what we've asked you to do, what I've called you to do. You see, when certainty isn't possible, faithfulness is still on the table. And Jesus says, stay faithful to what you already know to be true, and you'll find not an easy life, not a carefree, carefree life, but a with God life.

What you'll discover is joy, even in the midst of all the hard things.

And so in the midst of explaining this, Jesus gives an example. He says, it's kind of like a woman giving birth, a woman giving birth to a child. Has pain because her time has come. But when her baby is born, she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world. So with you now, your time is grief.

But I will see you again and I will rejoice. And you will rejoice, and no one can take that away from you. Now, where do you think he got that example?

See, this joy was something that permeated Jesus, not just as a child. He was speaking from his own experience. Joy wasn't a Pollyannish dream that he would tell his disciples about. It was born of a life spent trusting and hoping and believing and holding onto being faithful to who God had called him to be, knowing that God was doing something bigger, that he was making all things new. And he invited Jesus, Jesus to lead us into that.

That he faced struggle and adversity, but nothing could separate him from God's amazing love. And so when the Hebrew preacher is writing to his church to encourage them as they're facing all kinds of trials and temptations when they're struggling, here's how he responds to them. Here's what he tells them.

He says, let's run with perseverance, the race Marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith, for the joy set before him. He endured the cross, scorning his shame, and he sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners so that you will not grow weary or lose heart. And he points the church back to Jesus. Joy, joy not born out of everything coming up roses and everything going well and knowing it's always up and to the right.

He says, no, no, he knew what was before him. There's a joy in spite of the cross, born from endurance and perseverance and trust. The Hebrew preacher says, remember Jesus, Joy, that same joy that he promised, my joy would be in you and your joy would be complete. It's the same joy that allowed him to endure the cross, knowing what God is doing is so much bigger. Keep trusting in that promise so that you too can endure.

I wonder if that's what Peter had in mind when he was writing to the church, his letter. And this church was itself facing all kinds of trials and temptations and struggles. And so we pick up at the beginning of chapter one, verse six. It says, in all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you've had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your proven genuineness of your faith of Greater worth than gold which perishes even though refined by fire, may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.

Though you've not seen him, you love him. And even though you do not see him now, you believe in him are now filled with inexpressible and glorious joy. For you're receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls. Church what if this holiday season, we chose joy?

What if we chose to be God's joyful people who refused to give in to cynicism? What if instead of nothing matters, we said no, no, everything matters because Jesus is about the work of making all things new. What if as joyful people, we walked into our workplaces, to our schools, to. To our neighborhoods with calm instead of complaining? What if we engaged in politics with hope rather than despair?

What if we used the Internet to bless and encourage others rather than to escape or to attack? What if we chose contentment rather than pursuing more?

You see? What if we choose to follow Jesus example, to remain in his love, to choose to keep trusting God, to know that God's doing something so much bigger and he's inviting you and me to be a part of it. What if we choose the way of joy this holiday season? A joyful life in a joyless world. It stands out, it's noticeable, it's magnetic, it's powerful.

Because joy isn't what we find normal, is it? It's supernatural. It's evidence that a king has come. In fact, as the angel said, church, you don't have to be afraid, because I've got some really good news for you. It's going to be great joy for all people.

Because today in the town of David, a savior has been born and he is the Messiah.

Nothing will ever be the same. God. May that be true for us this holiday season. May we encounter a deep joy that only comes from trusting in your promises. Would you help us, God?

Because some of us are facing some overwhelming obstacles that we need your hope and your peace to be real to us in a way that maybe we've never known it before. Trusting and believing that that hope and peace will lead us to experience a joy, a joy that doesn't have words, a joy that even though we find ourselves in the midst of hard things, you still, God, you still bring us through, that you are faithful. So, God, this holiday season, would you help us to be faithful to what we already know to be true, that you are with us and nothing can ever separate us from that.

So, God, would you well up in us a deep and abiding joy. A joy that will make a difference in the lives, not only our lives, but in lives of the people around us. Joy in such a way that as others see us out in our city, in our community, that they would notice and ask, what's different?

God, we're so thankful for the gift of Jesus, for the hope and the peace and the joy that we know because of Him. Would you help us to live and follow in his example? We pray in his name. Amen.