Advent teaches you that joy doesn’t wait for perfect conditions. Like purple turning to rose when touched by light, God brings holy brightness into the middle of long nights and unfinished stories. Joy is not denial; it is confidence that God is already at work while you’re still waiting. The soul gets permission to breathe, to smile in the dark, and to sing before the sun clears the horizon. Receive joy as a gift that interrupts your ache, and let it rise before resolution. [07:15]
Psalm 146:5–6 — Joy rests secure in the person whose helper is the God of Jacob, whose expectation leans toward the Lord. He crafted the heavens, the earth, the seas, and everything living, and his faithfulness does not run out.
Reflection: Where, in your current waiting, could you practice one small act of rejoicing today, and what exactly will you do to embody that joy?
Do not stake your joy on leaders, headlines, paychecks, or the approval of people who can’t save you. Human breath is brief, and so are human plans; when they fold, borrowed joy collapses with them. True joy endures when it is anchored in the God who remains when everything else fades. This frees you to engage life and even public responsibility without confusing leadership with lordship. Choose discernment over despair and place your trust where it can actually hold. [08:42]
Psalm 146:3–4 — Don’t lean on powerful people as if salvation were in them. When their spirit departs, their strategies disappear; their strength returns to dust and their promises go quiet.
Reflection: What “prince” or promise have you quietly depended on this month, and what specific step will help you re-anchor your trust in God today?
“Happy” here isn’t a mood but a location—standing under God’s care, even when emotions swing. Help is not a polite assist; it’s rescue that arrives when strength runs out and survival feels unsure. Hope is disciplined trust formed by memory—confidence in tomorrow because God proved faithful yesterday. The Maker of heaven and earth has not retired; he remains steady when everything shakes. So even in crisis, you can be joyfully positioned, knowing the cavalry of heaven knows your address. [06:58]
Psalm 1:1–2 — Blessed is the person who refuses the counsel that bends away from God, who won’t plant their feet in the path of harm or settle into scorn. Instead, they live delighted by God’s ways and keep them turning over in heart, day and night.
Reflection: Name one place where you need God’s rescue right now; how will you ask for help today—in words, in prayer, or by reaching out to a faithful friend?
God’s joy turns the world right side up—feeding the hungry, freeing the captive, opening blind eyes, lifting the bowed down, guarding the stranger, and caring for the widow and the fatherless. Jesus doesn’t just echo that list; he embodies it and keeps doing it. If your life is frayed, you are not disqualified—you are a candidate for divine intervention. Joy rises when you join his work and expect his nearness among the least, the last, and the left out. Praise can start before completion because the Risen One is already moving toward those in need. [09:05]
Luke 4:18–21 — God’s Spirit rests on me; I’m sent to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim freedom to the bound, sight to the blind, and relief for the crushed. I’m here to announce that God’s favor is breaking in—this promise is arriving now.
Reflection: Who around you feels overlooked or burdened, and what is one concrete, small action you will take this week to join Christ’s care for them?
Praise is not a suggestion; it’s a summons to shine, to show, even to be joyfully unrestrained because God is worthy. Let worship be the evidence of your inward trust, a sound that drowns out your anxieties. The story of the Psalms ends by bracketing life with praise—start and finish in adoration, and let everything in between be carried by trust. Don’t wait for everything to be tidy before you testify. Open your mouth, lift your hands, and let faith sing louder than fear. [05:37]
Psalm 146:1,10 — Lift your praise to Yahweh, my whole life. The Lord reigns forever, from generation to generation; let your praise carry on without ending.
Reflection: When tomorrow comes, at what exact time will you stop and praise God, and how will you do it—song, whispered thanks, written gratitude, or expressive praise?
Advent gives us a holy permission slip to rejoice in the middle of our waiting. That’s why today’s candle is rose—purple touched by light. Rose doesn’t deny the night; it announces that dawn has begun to touch it. Psalm 146 sings this same song: joy is not the product of perfect conditions; it’s the gift of a perfect God who remains faithful forever. Israel’s history was bruised, their restoration incomplete, yet they learned to praise before completion because the Lord feeds, frees, opens, lifts, loves, protects, and helps. Joy becomes the blush of rose on a purple canvas—God’s action interrupting our ache.
I urged us to see joy as the outward evidence of inward trust. “Hallelujah” is a command, not a suggestion. It means shine, show, and, yes, act a fool for Yahweh—not from hype, but from a conviction that circumstances don’t control our jubilation. This joy begins by rejecting false securities: princes, policies, partners, paychecks, or personal strength. They’re all mortal and limited; their breath departs and their plans perish. Leadership is not lordship. We engage the world, but we refuse to lean on what cannot save.
Then we rest where rest belongs: “Happy” here is not a mood; it’s a position—rightly placed under divine care. Help is not mere assistance; it’s rescue at the critical hour. Hope is not wishing; it’s disciplined trust formed by memory—confidence for today and tomorrow because God carried us yesterday. The Maker of heaven and earth is our Helper, and his faithfulness does not drift.
Finally, joy rejoices in righteous reversals. The Lord executes justice, feeds the hungry, frees prisoners, opens blind eyes, lifts the bowed down, loves the righteous, protects the resident alien, and upholds the orphan and widow. Jesus reads this as his own vocation and fulfills it—and he keeps on doing it. He also frustrates the ways of the wicked, both systems and schemes, so we don’t have to fight dirty or live defensive. We praise loudly because Scripture commands it, and we trust deeply because Christ is near. In Advent’s dim light, joy rises early.
Advent begins in deep hues of purple. Purple is the color of solemn waiting and holy ache. The shade of longing and yearning. The color of nights spent straining one's spiritual eyes in the darkness. It's the color of one looking toward high horizons that we cannot yet see. Purple is a color that marks a season where the church leans forward, whispers prayers, and somehow finds a way to light candles against the dark. [00:31:46] (49 seconds) #AdventWaiting
Rose is Advent's holy permission slip. It lets the soul breathe. It whispers that joy is not postponed until Christmas morning, but rather joy is available and arrives in the middle of the time of waiting. Painters understand something that the church often intuits, but rarely articulates, that the shift from purple to rose is not merely symbolic. It is chromatically real. On the canvas, purple is created through the union of red and blue, a deep, cool, searching color that absorbs light. Rose, by contrast, is not a new pigment replacing purple. It's purple transfigured. [00:33:36] (56 seconds) #RoseOfAdvent
It says that I don't have to get to the end of my waiting to experience joy or the end of my trouble or difficulty to experience joy, but right here in a season of deep purple longing and hoping and wishing and wanting and searching and groping in the dark, God can bring to me bursts of joy. That's what Psalm 146 sings with some measure of surprise. Its poetry rises not from people already rescued, but from people learning to rejoice while still in need. Israel stands in a bruised history. Their exile in Babylon behind them, yet their restoration at the time of the writing and singing of this passage is still unfinished. [00:35:23] (54 seconds) #JoyInTheMidst
because that God is a God who does not allow situations to control your jubilation. But when you trust in Him, joy is the inevitable outworking of inward trust. Outward joy is the evidence of inward trust. When I slow down, I say an outward joy is the evidence of inward trust. Come here, church. It means that what we're supposed to do with this sermon today is we're to demonstrate our joy by letting our faith, hallelujah, louder than our fears. [00:41:15] (43 seconds) #FaithLouderThanFear
The point I'm making is on both sides of the aisle for decades and generations. We have seen the broken promises of those who have sat in seats of power because this is not always a result of malice. It's the reality of human limitation. Plans perish, power expires, and even the most confident promise is subject to forces beyond human control. But Psalm 146 does not tell us to disengage from public life. It tells us not to confuse leadership with lordship, to trust that God is still able to do what human beings cannot do. [00:46:37] (44 seconds) #TrustGodNotLeaders
``Princes and presidents can govern but they cannot save. Systems can shape outcomes but they cannot redeem. Only God remains when people's breath departs and plans fail. This is why I have joy whether my candidate wins or not. This is why I have joy no matter who's where saying what. This is why I have joy in the midst of all of the political risings and fallings. I choose joy over despair because discernment is the only ground where God-given joy can stand. [00:47:31] (49 seconds) #JoyBeyondPolitics
He watches over the stranger. Jesus crosses ethnic boundaries in his ministry, talking to a woman at the well from Samaria in John chapter 4 and dealing with a leper who was among other lepers who was a Samaritan. And then dealing with a Syrophoenician woman who has a demon-possessed daughter. He takes care of the foreigner. But then he uplifts the widow and the orphan, raising the widow of Nain's son back to life and restoring life. Are y'all hearing me? To Jairus' daughter, he does all of these things. [01:01:10] (36 seconds) #CareForTheMarginalized
And while that is true on the macro level, I thank God it's true on the micro level as well. I thank God that for every enemy and adversary and foe in my life, I don't have to worry. I ain't got to fuss and cuss and get you back and give you a piece of my mind. You're not worth the words. What I'm going to do is I'm going to keep trusting him and let him handle my enemy. Would you push somebody and say, neighbor, that's my testimony. When I take my hands off, he puts his hands on and he always vindicates, frustrates their ways. [01:03:56] (42 seconds) #LetGodHandleIt
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