There are a number of Sundays in the historic church year that have a special joyful emphasis. Their names even mean “rejoice!” Gaudete Sunday is the 3rd Sunday of Advent; Laetare Sunday is the 4th Sunday in Lent; and Jubilate Sunday is the 4th Sunday after Easter. On these days, the color reflects the emphasis of joy. On both Gaudete Sunday and Laetare Sunday the color changes to rose (a more pale shade of pink that has tones of red and gold) (Jubilate Sunday remains white as white is the used for the most joyous days already already). This change is brief  – a single Sunday in the midst of longer seasons – but the break in the midst of these seasons causes us to “lift up our hearts.”

The idea behind the color rose is a lightening of the color violet. For centuries, violet, or purple, has had associations with royalty or wealth. Dye for cloth was expensive, and purple was just about the deepest color, requiring the most dye. In the Bible, Lydia was “a seller of purple” (Acts 16). Just before Jesus was taken out to be crucified for being “the King of the Jews,” the soldiers mocked Him, and, besides putting a crown of thorns on his head, put a purple robe around Him. Violet, or purple is used in penitential seasons for this reason. But, on these “Rejoice” Sundays, some of the darkest dye is removed. The color left is rose. It is a reminder that, even in the darkest of days and seasons, Christians still have reason to rejoice. The penitential veil is lifted and the Scripture lessons point us to the comfort that the Word and Sacraments provide amidst the struggles of life.

The names for each of the “Rejoice” Sundays are taken from the Introits (Latin for “Entrance”) for the day.

On the 3rd Sunday of Advent we hear the Introit, “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again will I say, rejoice! Let your gentleness be known to all men. The Lord is at hand”(Philippians 4:4-5). In the Gospel lesson, John the Baptist is in a dark prison, likely despairing, but receives comfort from Christ’s Words of Promise brought to him by messengers (Matthew 11:2-10). Christ’s Word is our rose comfort amidst deep violet hardship.

On the 4th Sunday in Lent, we hear, “Rejoice with Jerusalem, and be glad with her, all you who love her; that you may feed and be satisfied with the consolation of her bosom” (Isaiah 66:10–11). In the Gospel, Christ feeds the 5,000 in the wilderness, displaying a typological foreshadowing of the Lord’s Supper. Christ says “I am the living bread which came down from heaven. If anyone eats this bread, he will live forever“ (John 6:51). Christ feeds us with His body and blood – food in the desert – consoling us with Himself, giving us rose joy in the midst of deep penitential violet.

Not all churches have rose paraments, but most churches, especially Lutheran churches, incorporate the color somehow (even perhaps without realizing it). The Advent Wreath, a tradition that began in the Lutheran church, uses a rose-pink candle on the 3rd Sunday in Advent. Many call this candle the “joy candle” for this reason. The color of the candle comes from the proper liturgical color for the day, rose. While the origin of the use of rose is unclear, it possibly dates back as early as the 8th century. The rubrics for various Lutheran church bodies give rose as an optional color for Gaudete and Laetare Sundays, with violet for the rest of the seasons and blue as an optional color for Advent.

Colors are one of the simplest ways to teach. My three-year old son walks into church every Sunday and asks “What color is today?” I rejoice that I get to explain it to him.

We are thankful to CM Almy for creating this set for us. It has been a work in progress over a number of years, when the first piece, a rose stole was generously gifted by a member. The majority of the cost of these paraments have been supplied through a Thrivent Action Team grant.

What is Lent?

Lent is a 40-day season of an intentional Christ-centered return to our baptisms, where we daily die with our sins and rise with Christ to live a new life.  Between Ash Wednesday and the Paschal Triduum (Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and the Easter Vigil), the church is again called to live a life of repentance. The practice of Lent has been observed by Christians around the world since the early centuries of the church.

Lent shows how much we need Christ.

Lent is an opportunity to follow Jesus who was led into the wilderness by the Holy Spirit for 40 days of prayer and fasting. This Lent at Faith, we are inviting the Spirit to lead us to God’s Word and be increasingly conformed to His image. This is particularly fitting this year, as throughout Scripture, plagues and pandemics were used by God to call His people to repentance and faith.  Through baptism, and by returning to our baptisms in confession and absolution, God provides us with renewal, refreshment, and a fresh start.

Lent shows how much we need each other.

We often think of our faith as something personal, and while many of the practices of Lent are things that can’t be done except by each person individually, however Christian faith is never practiced in solitude, but always in communion with fellow Christians.  Together, by meeting together around the Word of God, we encourage one another and fulfill a purpose of church: to carry each other’s burdens and to encourage them with the love of Christ.  May we encourage each other this Lent in our individual participation in the death and resurrection of Jesus.

As you participate in Lent, please read our guide, and feel free to share it with your friends.

Here are all of our opportunities at Faith to participate in Lent:

After a year of going to the essentials (Ie., Sunday worship and catechesis), it’s time to come together again to build one another up in the Word of God. Groups will hopefully start later this month. Please help me by taking this survey. – Pastor Hendrix

My first Christmas not “at home” was a few years ago. It was the first Christmas my wife and I celebrated while serving at a parish. I’m a pastor, who for the short length of my ministry, has served some distance away from my relatives. It comes with the vocation that any holiday, not just Christmas, will be away from family. One of the things that also happens for a pastor and his family is that during the most celebratory aspect of the holiday, you are distant from each other: My wife was in a pew alone by herself, and I was in the tiny chancel by myself. We were in the same room, but separate, in a congregation smaller than many families, whom we were still getting to know.

The most difficult part of the whole festival was the slow realization just how different this was for each of us. For as long as either of us could remember, we had always been together with parents, siblings, cousins, and/or grandparents at this time. We couldn’t help but think of what everyone else was doing. We missed even the most mundane things – for me, it was my family’s tradition of pizza after all attending the Christmas Eve service together. For my wife it was singing Christmas hymns on Christmas Eve in a pew full of family. Despite the objective joy of the holiday, subjectively, our happiness was difficult to find.

My purpose of this post is not to compare the vocation of pastor during the holidays with any other vocation. There are many others who have to serve away from family at the holidays – military, first responders, doctors, snow truck drivers, delivery drivers, and the list could go on and on. I have also seen too many posts on social media saying tactless sentiments like, “[so and so essential worker] always stays home, so don’t complain, stay home!!” This article is not that.

I also don’t write this to shame anyone who chooses to go home or not go home to family. We are complex beings with more than just physical needs. It is true that going home could mean helping our neighbors (family) keep his or her life. As Martin Luther once told this simple, yet profound advice to Christians during the Black Death Epidemic: “If my neighbor needs me…I shall not avoid any place or person but will go freely.”¹ It is also true that this may not be possible for everyone.

Rather, what I hope to do is give some comfort to those who find themselves in a situation where they can’t be home this year, especially because of the pandemic. And this is a challenge.

Our society is not quiet about what we should be doing, or how we should celebrate the holidays. For a few weeks now, I have seen or heard sayings like “A Zoom Thanksgiving is better than an ICU Christmas.” However, platitudes like this are useless in a culture in which the whole idea of the holidays is togetherness. For secular culture, Christmas is all about family. So now, when you turn on the radio and hear, “I’ll be home for Christmas,” “Oh, Baby all I want for Christmas is you,” “There’ll be much mistletoeing And hearts will be glowing When loved ones are near…” it’s hard not to cringe. At best, the cultural themes of Christmas distract us from the real hope of Christmas. At worst, the idea of Christmas=family turns family into an idol. And, as idols will do, they take everything and give nothing back.

There is no tradition at Christmas that can fill an empty heart. Our hearts yearn to be filled, and even all the family in the world can only fill a little imperfectly.

To be sure, there’s a reason why we have holiday traditions. We are creatures who need repetition (whether we realize it or not). There is a reason we have families. Families, properly understood not as an idol but as a gift from God, are a way God preserves you and gives you “all that [you] need to support this body and life.”²

But even without these, Christmas is no less Christmas. Christmas hasn’t lost its hope or comfort. It’s actually in these hardships, these crosses, that the glory of Christmas shines.

My first year in a parish away from home for Christmas, I borrowed some words of my former pastor for my Christmas Day sermon, words that I think ring truer this year than even back then:

“We could take away the poinsettias, the trees, the lights, and everything else, and still have a Christmas celebration.  All you need are two or three poor, miserable sinners huddled around Christ’s Word, and you have everything of Christmas.  ‘In him was life, and that life was the light of men’ (John 1:4).”³

Christmas means that Christ became your brother. To be with you. Emmanuel. God with you. To literally share your flesh and blood. To become a part of your family. To never leave you nor forsake you. To dwell with you in your loss to take it upon Himself and give you all the riches of His grace. God gave up His son, literally separating Himself from His Son on the cross, so that He may be joined to you through His Son.

So don’t look for your Christmas hope or joy in some “uplifting” feelings.  “Go to the baby in the manger, as the shepherds did.  Go to the young child in the house, as the magi did.  Go to man on the cross.  And since you can’t literally do any of those things, go to the Word, the Baptism, and the Supper, where the Light shines to give you life!” And where these things are, is another family: Your church family; people who need you (and you need) no less than your blood family. Even if you are still getting to know them, like my wife and I were, they are your family in Jesus.⁴

Every Christmas, together with my church family, I am sure to plan to sing “O Jesus Christ, Thy Manger Is.” Rarely can I or my wife make it through without sobbing, not so much at the sadness of being away from our families, but at the deeper joy of the implications of Christ’s birth so beautifully explored in this hymn.

The hymn is tragically not very well known, likely because it sings of everything our culture doesn’t want Christmas to be. But it should be the theme hymn for Christmas 2020. It was written by a Lutheran Pastor named Paul Gerhardt. Gerhardt could sympathize with the worst of our crosses. He lived during a severe plague in the 1600’s as well as the 30 Years War. He lost his job as a pastor because he refused to preach false doctrine, and it was during this period that his wife died.  Only one of his five children outlived him.  Undoubtedly, the majority of his Christmases were spent missing family.

Hear Gerhardt’s confession of the fulfillment of his heart’s emptiness with the fulness of Christ in these verses (2, 4, 5, 6 – especially note verse 4…):

2. He whom the sea And wind obey
Doth come to serve the sinner in great meekness.
Thou, God’s own Son,
With us art one,
Dost join us and our children in our weakness.

4. Thou Christian heart, Whoe’er thou art,
Be of good cheer and let no sorrow move thee.
For God’s own Child,
In mercy mild,
Joins thee to Him—how greatly God must love thee!

5. Remember thou What glory now
The Lord prepared thee for all earthly sadness.
The angel host
Can never boast
Of greater glory, greater bliss or gladness.

6. The world may hold Her wealth and gold;
But thou, my heart, keep Christ as thy true Treasure.
To Him hold fast
Until at last
A crown be thine and honor in full measure.

Evangelical Lutheran Hymnary | 161
O Jesu Christ, dein Kripplein ist
P. Gerhardt, 1607-76
Tr. The Lutheran Hymnal, St. Louis, 1941

(You can listen to the above chorale here, performed by the choirs of Martin Luther College.)

This Christmas, if you are away from family, be sad for what you are missing and who you are not with. But rejoice in Who is with you and what you have been given. You are not alone. God is truly with you, with all His gifts of peace, forgiveness, and life.