The Rejoice Always: The Secret of Christian Joy

This morning, as the pink candle of joy already burning in our Advent wreaths. The pink candle stands out amid the purple ones, symbolising a transformation in our Advent journey. This visual change mirrors a deeper truth: Christian joy often emerges unexpectedly, standing distinct and radiant against the backdrop of ordinary life. But what makes this joy so different? What gives it the power to shine regardless of season or circumstance?

These questions bring us to Paul’s letter to the Philippians, specifically chapter 4, verses 4–7, where we encounter one of the most striking commands: “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again; Rejoice!” The repetition here is not just emphasis; it’s an insistence that points to a deep truth about Christian joy. This joy is not a seasonal celebration or a response to favourable circumstances, but rather a deep-rooted reality that exists in every season of our lives, in every corner of our world.

The emphasised word “rejoice, always” might seem almost impossible, especially when we are having a really bad day. Rejoice in the Lord, even when days are hard, even when we are in pain, when we are weary, and even if our family and friends disappoint, criticise, and abandon you.

As we know Paul did not write these words from a sunny and cheerful study filled with comfort. Instead, he is writing from the harsh Roman prison, where he is soon to die. Paul had already endured hunger, persecution, shipwreck, whippings, and beatings. Physical pain is something he knows all too well. Even more heartbreaking is the fact that the gospel message he preached has been undermined and even rejected by many and the faith communities he lovingly built and carefully taught are crumbling.

Meanwhile, the church itself is experiencing a terrible period under Emperor Nero. Christians were used as burning torches in Nero’s gardens and thrown to lions in the arenas. Paul was not happy, and even worse things.

But Paul boldly declares, “Rejoice! Do not worry about anything.” How could he say this? Paul knows his life is almost over. He knows the church is being destroyed and persecuted and he also knows that God is not a superhero who will suddenly appear and magically solve everything in an instant. Looking through his ministry, there is one consistent testimony that remains unchanged—that he had learned to be content in any and every situation. This was his secret: the fullness of joy was to behold God in everything and to entrust all things into God’s hands.

Paul’s deep assurance and firm trust bring to mind the words of St. Teresa of Avila, whose timeless poem, God Alone is Enough, with Paul’s conviction and shed light on the mystery of entrusting all to God:

Let nothing trouble you,
Let nothing frighten you
Everything passes
But God will never change

Patient endurance
Will obtain everything.
Whoever has God
Wants for nothing at all

God alone is enough, God alone is enough
Whoever has God, Wants for nothing at all.

The thread that weaves through both Paul’s letters and Teresa’s poetry is this beautiful truth: joy flows from complete surrender to God. This is why Paul’s call to “Rejoice” is deeply connected to the mystery of the Cross.

It’s the faith that pain and suffering, even death, can be used for the salvation of the world. And it’s the faith that when we trust God and allow God to use our lives, God can shape them for a greater purpose. Our troubles won’t go away, but when placed in God’s hands, they become part of a larger story in which suffering is in some way redeemed. In this larger story, we will absolutely know joy.

Paul’s rejoicing is not the kind of fleeting happiness we feel when things go well and when we are free from fear and worry. Happiness is temporary and circumstantial, dependent on what happens to us. But Paul’s rejoicing is something far deeper and more lasting. ‘Joy, then, is not dependent on context or happenstance, nor does it indicate the absence of pain. Instead, it is a gift given to us when we open our hearts to God, even and perhaps especially—in times of anguish. And when we seek God’s will more than our own comfort or happiness, our suffering is written into a bigger story and we need no longer be afraid. Because when we give our lives to God, we can trust that the things that we are taught to fear—suffering, rejection, anguish, even death—will be redeemed. ‘Don’t worry about anything,’ writes Paul, not because our troubles will evaporate, but because uniting with God brings purpose and joy, and joy is an antidote to fear.

“But, in everything, by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God.” One who knows suffering encourages us to pray about everything. Beloved in the Lord, bring your needs before God. Give thanks for what God has done. Place every aspect of your life in God’s hands, trusting that He will use all things for the healing of the world. Hold fast to the promise that “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

Finally, Paul offers us this thoughtful assurance today: Your trials will not vanish, but you will know the peace that I give. Your pain and sorrow will remain with you, yet you will find courage in me and experience the power and goodness of joy that endlessly wells up from beneath the surface. This joy enables us to declare, “We give thanks to God.” We trust and believe in this God who gives us life.

This is the kind of joy that changes us. This is the joy that allows us to pray with confidence, to embrace each day with hope, and to face our challenges with unwavering trust. Not because our circumstances have changed, but because we know the One who holds all circumstances in His hands. We are held by the God who creates, who bears our suffering, and who gives life even in death.

And so we join with Paul, with Teresa, and with all the faithful through the ages who have discovered this deep joy—not a joy that denies suffering, but a joy that transforms it. We give thanks to God for the gift of joy that sustains us, for the peace that guards us, and for the love that never lets us go. Amen.