Advent: Joy In Sadness

Recently, one of the men from my Missio Community Group asked me how I was doing. Often, I would give a pleasant, “I am doing well,” or some other expected salutation that would satisfy the seemingly obligatory greeting and response. Because I knew him well and knew his question wasn’t an anxious obligation but came from a place of genuine curiosity and care for me, I shared, “I’m okay.” 

“Just okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah brother, I’m just okay. It’s been a heavy season and sadness has become a daily companion,” I replied. 

He was aware of some of the things I had been carrying, so he lovingly didn’t press me for more details, but asked me a profoundly helpful question. He asked, “How are you seeing light or experiencing joy and hope while you’re sad?” His question was not dismissive or distracting, but caring and full of gospel-centered hope. He shared that it was a question that his parents would ask him and others to whom they ministered. And that question ministered to me in that moment, for the remainder of the day, and continues to minister to me spilling into the days following our exchange.

First of all, questions are a profoundly good tool for ministry. Jesus was fond of asking questions; so fond that the New Testament records about 10 questions for every 1 command that He uttered. If we are to follow the way of Jesus, we would do well to learn how to ask questions that draw people into an awareness of their need for Christ and His availability to them.

Secondly, the question about joy in sadness is one that believers in Christ ought to always consider but to do so in ways that are honest and healthy and reveal our lack of independent strength. We don’t naturally do this and our church cultures don’t often promote it. Instead, we busy ourselves with seeking out surface-level happiness and pretend that everything is good and that we have everything under control. 

We could simply confront the sadness through honest confession, but we tend to dismiss, diminish, and downplay it by convincing ourselves it isn’t a big deal or that it shouldn’t be a big deal in comparison to what other people might face. So we commit to looking on the “bright side” and trying to put on a display of happiness. Happiness, however, that ignores pain is not joy, it’s distraction. Distraction can often prevent us from approaching the One who can turn our sadness into joy. Another option is to become identified with our sadness. We do this when we show up to our circumstances and our relationships believing the worst and despairing of a positive outcome. This too is a dishonest outlook on life and leaves us blind to some of the good that God is doing in the world. 

Jesus neither distracts us or defines us by our struggles or sadness. He is deeply concerned with the well-being of His people and deeply connected to those things that motivate us, even when we’re not honest about what those things might be.  He was promised in the Old Testament to be “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Is. 53:3). He doesn’t pretend that the world isn’t so bad and He doesn’t call us to pretend that we are better than we actually are. 

In John 11, when Jesus finally arrives near the home of his good friends and learns that one of them, Lazarus, has died, we are told, “Jesus wept” (John 11:35). It is the shortest verse in the English Bible and one that is easy to memorize and on which to meditate. What is striking about this text is that Jesus would raise Lazarus from the dead in the same story, but at this point and in that moment, Jesus wasn’t distracting Himself or anyone watching. He fully embraced the raw honesty of the moment and He wept. 

What I love about this story is that it demonstrates what gospel faith looks like in everyday life. Namely, sadness and grief precede resurrection hope, and joy. In fact, I’m not sure we are growing hopeful when we are dishonest about our sadness and our pain. When the Apostle Paul reminds the Corinthians of those elements of the gospel that are of “first importance,” he reminds them, “that Christ died...that he was buried” before “he was raised…and that he appeared” (I Cor. 15:3-5). We often want the raising without the death and burial. Let’s commune with God in the death and in the burial with the hope of communion with him in the resurrection.

What might it look like to allow the gospel to address the difficult and heavy things before moving to the victory and celebration? It would start with a trust that God confronts brokenness that captures His people and knows it personally. He doesn’t ask us to overcome it, but to take heart because he has overcome it (John 16:33). 

It would allow the pain to reveal what we might need. One of my favorite aspects of the ministry of Jesus is his willingness to ask people, “what do you want,” or “what do you want me to do for you?”

Matt. 20 records two stories of Jesus asking this question. A people in need of God, ask for more of His presence through prayer. 

As we grow in awareness of our needs, we begin to share with God’s people. Isolation is one of the most damaging things we can do to ourselves. We can remind ourselves of the promise that by faith in Christ, we are never left or forsaken (Heb. 13:5). Serving others and doing so on a team can be helpful. For further reflection consider the following passages:

Rom. 5:3-5

3 Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.

I Pet. 4:12-13

12 Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. 13 But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed. 

James 1:2-4

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.

My friend understood that our faith in Christ does not make us immune to difficulty, suffering, or sadness. He also understood that we aren’t defined by that difficulty, but that we are loved and held in communion with Christ and with His people. God the redeemer is calling us to hope over despair and while that produces joy, it sometimes comes during floods of sadness. And we are in good company in our sadness when we consider Jesus to be the man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. Because the Savior was swallowed up, and victoriously raised up, we have hope that our sadness is not eternal, but that our life is. May we endure sadness and suffering with that sense of joy.

Submitted By: Kurt Hannah