Advent Real Joy
Finding Real Joy: An inheritance that never Fades
The Christmas season rushes upon us with dizzying speed. Decorations appear earlier each year, shopping lists grow longer, and the calendar fills with events and obligations. In the whirlwind of activity, we often find ourselves chasing something elusive—something we might call "joy." But what if much of what we pursue isn't real joy at all, but merely its counterfeit cousin: happiness?
The Difference Between Happiness and Joy
Happiness depends on happenings. It's the thrill of a new purchase, the warmth of perfect weather, or the excitement of gathering with loved ones. These experiences bring genuine pleasure, but they share a common vulnerability: they're temporary. The new car gets its first scratch. The perfect day gives way to storms. Even the most wonderful gatherings eventually end.
Happiness is circumstantial and conditional. It rises and falls with our fortunes, evaporating the moment conditions change. This isn't real joy—it's an imitation, a copy that looks convincing until tested by difficulty.
Real joy runs deeper. It's a confidence that cannot be easily shaken, a foundation that holds firm when everything around us crumbles. Unlike happiness, which depends on external circumstances, genuine joy springs from an internal reality that remains constant regardless of what's happening in our lives.
Joy in the Midst of Suffering
Consider the early Christians described in 1 Peter—believers scattered by persecution, torn from their homes, separated from family and friends, struggling financially and socially. These were people with no earthly reason to be happy. Yet the apostle Peter describes them as being "filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy."
How could this be? What did they possess that we might be missing?
Their joy was rooted in something unshakeable: "In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you."
While happiness depends on perishable things—possessions, circumstances, even relationships—these believers anchored their joy in an imperishable inheritance. They focused not on their current suffering but on their ultimate destination. Even gold, the most valuable and lasting metal known to the ancient world, eventually perishes. But their inheritance would never fade.
The Journey and the Destination
Think of life as a road trip. You've packed the car, you know your destination, and you're ready to go. Along the way, you'll encounter detours, breakdowns, and disappointments. Maybe your meal from the drive-through is cold. Maybe you hit unexpected traffic or take a wrong turn.
Would you abandon your entire trip because of a cold burger and missing ketchup? Of course not. You'd keep your eyes on the destination, knowing that temporary discomforts don't negate the value of where you're going.
Yet this is exactly what we do spiritually when we lose focus on our eternal destination. We allow the disappointments of the journey to rob us of the joy that comes from knowing where we're headed. We forget that while the trip may be challenging, the destination makes it all worthwhile.
The key is maintaining focus. When we fix our attention on our heavenly inheritance—on the reality that Christ has conquered death and prepared a place for us—we can navigate the difficulties of this life with genuine joy. We can enjoy the journey while never losing sight of where we're ultimately going.
Approaching the Throne of Grace
Here's where the message becomes truly transformative: we don't have to wait until we reach our destination to experience the benefits of our inheritance. Even now, in the midst of our journey, we have access to everything we need.
Hebrews 4:16 invites us to "approach God's throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." Notice those words: with confidence. Not with fear, not with hesitation, not with shame—but with boldness.
In ancient times, approaching a king uninvited was a life-and-death gamble. Queen Esther risked everything when she entered King Xerxes' throne room without being summoned, knowing she could be executed for her audacity. The king's response—extending his scepter or withholding it—meant the difference between life and death.
How much more remarkable, then, that we can approach the King of Kings without fear of rejection or punishment! We don't need to fast for days to prepare ourselves. We don't need to wonder if we'll be accepted. The throne we approach is a throne of grace, and we've been given the royal robe of Christ's righteousness.
When we come before God, we receive mercy—the pardon we don't deserve, the forgiveness that wipes away our guilt. But we also receive grace—unmerited favor that goes beyond mere pardon to full restoration. Like the prodigal son who expected to become a servant but was instead embraced as a beloved child, we receive not just forgiveness but full sonship.
Silencing the Condemning Voices
What robs us of joy? Often, it's the voices that condemn us—voices that may be our own or echoes of others who spoke shame over us. These voices tell us we're failures, that we're not good enough, that God couldn't possibly love us after all we've done.
But Scripture offers a powerful counter-message: "There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus" (Romans 8:1). Zero condemnation. Nothing. No shame, no fear, no rejection.
The question is: whose voice will we listen to? The world offers countless voices competing for our attention, many of them speaking discouragement and condemnation. But our Father's voice speaks something entirely different. He speaks acceptance, love, and affirmation—not because we've earned it, but because we're His children.
An Inexpressible Joy
This is the source of real joy: knowing that we belong to God, that our inheritance is secure, that nothing can separate us from His love. This joy doesn't depend on our circumstances, our performance, or other people's opinions. It's rooted in the unchanging character of God and the finished work of Christ.
This is why the scattered, persecuted believers Peter wrote to could be described as having "inexpressible" joy. How do you explain to someone that you're filled with joy while losing everything? How do you articulate the peace that surpasses understanding? You can't—it's inexpressible precisely because it defies the logic of this world.
As we enter this Advent season, may we discover anew the difference between happiness and joy. May we learn to enjoy the journey while keeping our eyes fixed on our destination. And may we approach God's throne with confidence, knowing that in His presence we find everything we need for the journey ahead.
The angels announced good news of great joy at Christ's birth—not temporary happiness, but lasting, unshakeable, inexpressible joy. That same joy is available to us today, an inheritance that will never perish, spoil, or fade.
The Difference Between Happiness and Joy
Happiness depends on happenings. It's the thrill of a new purchase, the warmth of perfect weather, or the excitement of gathering with loved ones. These experiences bring genuine pleasure, but they share a common vulnerability: they're temporary. The new car gets its first scratch. The perfect day gives way to storms. Even the most wonderful gatherings eventually end.
Happiness is circumstantial and conditional. It rises and falls with our fortunes, evaporating the moment conditions change. This isn't real joy—it's an imitation, a copy that looks convincing until tested by difficulty.
Real joy runs deeper. It's a confidence that cannot be easily shaken, a foundation that holds firm when everything around us crumbles. Unlike happiness, which depends on external circumstances, genuine joy springs from an internal reality that remains constant regardless of what's happening in our lives.
Joy in the Midst of Suffering
Consider the early Christians described in 1 Peter—believers scattered by persecution, torn from their homes, separated from family and friends, struggling financially and socially. These were people with no earthly reason to be happy. Yet the apostle Peter describes them as being "filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy."
How could this be? What did they possess that we might be missing?
Their joy was rooted in something unshakeable: "In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you."
While happiness depends on perishable things—possessions, circumstances, even relationships—these believers anchored their joy in an imperishable inheritance. They focused not on their current suffering but on their ultimate destination. Even gold, the most valuable and lasting metal known to the ancient world, eventually perishes. But their inheritance would never fade.
The Journey and the Destination
Think of life as a road trip. You've packed the car, you know your destination, and you're ready to go. Along the way, you'll encounter detours, breakdowns, and disappointments. Maybe your meal from the drive-through is cold. Maybe you hit unexpected traffic or take a wrong turn.
Would you abandon your entire trip because of a cold burger and missing ketchup? Of course not. You'd keep your eyes on the destination, knowing that temporary discomforts don't negate the value of where you're going.
Yet this is exactly what we do spiritually when we lose focus on our eternal destination. We allow the disappointments of the journey to rob us of the joy that comes from knowing where we're headed. We forget that while the trip may be challenging, the destination makes it all worthwhile.
The key is maintaining focus. When we fix our attention on our heavenly inheritance—on the reality that Christ has conquered death and prepared a place for us—we can navigate the difficulties of this life with genuine joy. We can enjoy the journey while never losing sight of where we're ultimately going.
Approaching the Throne of Grace
Here's where the message becomes truly transformative: we don't have to wait until we reach our destination to experience the benefits of our inheritance. Even now, in the midst of our journey, we have access to everything we need.
Hebrews 4:16 invites us to "approach God's throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." Notice those words: with confidence. Not with fear, not with hesitation, not with shame—but with boldness.
In ancient times, approaching a king uninvited was a life-and-death gamble. Queen Esther risked everything when she entered King Xerxes' throne room without being summoned, knowing she could be executed for her audacity. The king's response—extending his scepter or withholding it—meant the difference between life and death.
How much more remarkable, then, that we can approach the King of Kings without fear of rejection or punishment! We don't need to fast for days to prepare ourselves. We don't need to wonder if we'll be accepted. The throne we approach is a throne of grace, and we've been given the royal robe of Christ's righteousness.
When we come before God, we receive mercy—the pardon we don't deserve, the forgiveness that wipes away our guilt. But we also receive grace—unmerited favor that goes beyond mere pardon to full restoration. Like the prodigal son who expected to become a servant but was instead embraced as a beloved child, we receive not just forgiveness but full sonship.
Silencing the Condemning Voices
What robs us of joy? Often, it's the voices that condemn us—voices that may be our own or echoes of others who spoke shame over us. These voices tell us we're failures, that we're not good enough, that God couldn't possibly love us after all we've done.
But Scripture offers a powerful counter-message: "There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus" (Romans 8:1). Zero condemnation. Nothing. No shame, no fear, no rejection.
The question is: whose voice will we listen to? The world offers countless voices competing for our attention, many of them speaking discouragement and condemnation. But our Father's voice speaks something entirely different. He speaks acceptance, love, and affirmation—not because we've earned it, but because we're His children.
An Inexpressible Joy
This is the source of real joy: knowing that we belong to God, that our inheritance is secure, that nothing can separate us from His love. This joy doesn't depend on our circumstances, our performance, or other people's opinions. It's rooted in the unchanging character of God and the finished work of Christ.
This is why the scattered, persecuted believers Peter wrote to could be described as having "inexpressible" joy. How do you explain to someone that you're filled with joy while losing everything? How do you articulate the peace that surpasses understanding? You can't—it's inexpressible precisely because it defies the logic of this world.
As we enter this Advent season, may we discover anew the difference between happiness and joy. May we learn to enjoy the journey while keeping our eyes fixed on our destination. And may we approach God's throne with confidence, knowing that in His presence we find everything we need for the journey ahead.
The angels announced good news of great joy at Christ's birth—not temporary happiness, but lasting, unshakeable, inexpressible joy. That same joy is available to us today, an inheritance that will never perish, spoil, or fade.
Posted in Advent