December 13th was the feast day of Saint Lucia. I first heard about Saint Lucia (or Lucy) last year during the Advent season, and I was quickly captured by her faithfulness. She lived in second century Rome during the reign of Emperor Diocletian. She was a Christian, and this was a time when Christianity was illegal, and Diocletian brutally and savagely persecuted anyone who claimed Christ. Lucia’s parents intended for her to marry a pagan suitor. A daughter of a rich nobleman, Lucia gave away a large portion of her wealth to the poor, and when her fiancé found out, he was enraged and reported her to the authorities for being a Christian. Roman authorities imprisoned and tortured her, and when she still refused to renounce Christ, they gouged out her eyes and set her on fire. Miraculously, the fire did not harm her, and she is reported to have praised God with this prayer:
I bless You, O Father of my Lord Jesus Christ, because through Your Son the fire has no power over me.
St. Lucia, Martyr at Syracuse
She was finally pierced in the neck with a sword and killed for her steadfast faith in Jesus Christ. I’ve been unable to stop thinking of her story as I’ve reflected on joy during this third week of Advent. Lucia counted it all joy — the persecution, the torture, the imprisonment, and all that I’m sure felt bleak, dark, and lost; for she knew that all was not lost, that her joy would be fulfilled when they pierced her with a sword — that her heart’s desire would be complete with the reality that she gets to behold her Savior, face-to-face for all of Eternity: a joy unmatched by any this world has to offer. She took seriously Jesus’ words:
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for the kingdom of heaven is theirs. You are blessed when they insult you and persecute you and falsely say every kind of evil against you because of me. Be glad and rejoice, because your reward is great in heaven. For that is how they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
Matthew 5:10-12 CSB
And Hebrews:
Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross (emphasis mine), despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.
Hebrews 12:1-2 ESV
I feel inadequate to talk about joy, as it feels so ambiguous to me most of the time. (Am I the only one?) And I think it’s because I too often attribute it to emotion. But it seems to me that, in Scripture, joy is almost always associated with God’s holiness; with seeing His face; with remaining in Him; with confidence in who He is and what He’s done for us through Jesus Christ. (1 Samuel 2; Nehemiah 8:10; Job 33:26; Psalm 16; Isaiah 35; Habakkuk 3:18-19; Galatians 5:22-25).
Joy is a fruit of the Holy Spirit in our lives, not simply an emotion — a sweet thing that wells up and pours out when our hope and faith are set on the very nature and character of God and what He’s done for us through Christ. (Sidenote: we’ve talked about hope and faith the last few weeks, and if you read Galatians 5:22-25, you’ll notice that hope and faith are not included in the list of fruits of the Spirit. I wonder if we must start with hope and faith for joy to be born in our lives.)
Even when we feel we’re lacking; even when our eyes are gouged out and body set aflame; even when it feels impossible to trust anyone around us — the joy of the Lord is our strength because of the pure fulfillment that is promised us on the other side of this exile. Joy can’t be just an emotion if the joy of the Lord is our strength; emotions are too fickle and inconsistent, but not God.
Joy ignites celebration, even when all still seems dark — in fact, joy is an act of war against darkness; it’s a part of the very person of God leaking out of us into a world desperate for Life.
Joy in us does not come out of our own efforts, our own lack, our own ambition, but out of beholding the One who is the embodiment of joy and the Savior of the world: Jesus Christ.
O God, like Lucia, and like so many before and after her, may our hope and faith in Your love and promise help us to set our hearts on the joy set before us, no matter our circumstances or state of being. Help us to live from the truth that our joy is determined by our future destiny alone, and no one can take that away from the ones who belong to You. For Your coming, O Lord, is still “good news that brings great joy” (Luke 2:10).
Amen.
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