Advent 3 Yr A
Gaudete

Gaudete; or REJOICE, for goodness sake, REJOICE!

11/19/2022

Gaudete Sunday is the third Sunday of Advent in the liturgical calendar. The day takes its name from the Latin word Gaudete (“Rejoice”), which appears in this Sunday’s introduction to the Eucharistic meal. Gaudete Sunday expresses joy in anticipation of the miracle of Christmas, and its visual message reflects a lightening of the tone of the traditional Advent observance—moving from a deep, dreamy, longing Advent blue (or purple) for the wreath candles to a warm, hopeful, comfy rose. 

In some years, one of my very favorite readings comes round on this Sunday: The Magnificat, or The Song of Mary, a canticle taken from the Gospel of Luke (1:46–55), purportedly the words of Mary when she visits her cousin Elizabeth to tell her she is with child. It begins,

My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.

When I think about rejoicing and about Mary, I always pause to wonder just how many sermons, reflections, or scriptural meditations you’ve heard in church about that young lady’s great deeds. Perhaps a few, but I’m willing to wager dollars against donuts that the Mary you heard about was the quintessential good girl, retiring, meek, mild.

But there’s a different Mary who lives in my heart: she’s brave, confrontational, and, yes, even a rebel—an unmarried pregnant teenager with the chutzpah to proclaim the coming birth of her son with jubilation and radical vision. This Mary is surely one reason for rejoicing on this Sunday called Gaudete.

Having praised the “great things” that God has done for her in choosing her as the “blessed” mother of Jesus, she goes on to say:

His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants forever.

These are verses that I heard emphasized only once in a sermon in many years. To me, however, they tell the whole story, and they have stuck with me. What Mary envisions is an end to exploitative and unjust economic structures, a time when “the lowly,” those crushed by the so-called System, will be able enjoy their birthright—all good things given by God. I cannot help but think of Mary sharing this vision with her beautiful, smart-as-a-whip, fully human son at her knee, and the faithful, stalwart Joseph by her side, teaching Jesus about kindness, compassion, and justice and all things that matter most, and are most precious, in life.

Did you know that The Magnificat is the longest set of words spoken by a woman in the New Testament? Did you know that Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German pastor and theologian who was executed by the Nazis, called The Magnificat “the most passionate, the wildest, one might even say, the most revolutionary hymn ever sung”? Mary, according to the artist Ben Wildflower, is “a radical who exists within the confines of  institutionalized religion.”

So, as we come to Gaudete Sunday, I remember one of my favorite quotations, from the 14th-century German mystic Meister Eckhart, who said: “We are all meant to be mothers of God, for God is always needing to be born.” Meister Eckhart, I think, has hit the nail on the head. God is always needing to be born through each and every one of us, each and every day. Thank you, Mary, for showing the way. WE REJOICE.

(P.S.: Can’t help but note that the Gaudete color is a rosy pink. GIRL POWER!)

(Bonus track: “My heart shall sing of the day you bring / Let the fires of your justice burn,”: A 2015 video of the SSSJ* women performing “Canticle of the Turning” —a contemporary paraphrase of The Magnificat by the liturgical songwriter Rory Cooney.)

© 2022 Peggy van Antwerp Hill
*Episcopal Church of St. Simon & St. Jude