There is much in our world which might convince us that joy is not a reasonable expectation for our time. The list of woes which might prompt us to despair is a long and varied one. Joy is not the first thing which springs to mind when listening to news of the impeachment hearings, or the faltering peace efforts in places like Israel, or Iraq, or Northern Ireland, or assorted places in Africa. Joy does not seem likely to overwhelm us when we hear reports of the poor and homeless and disadvantaged masses in our own country. Nor is it joy which swells within us when we watch those around us, even in our own families, as they suffer with the pain of various diseases for which there is no quick or easy cure.

But just because it is not readily apparent, just because present circumstances might seem to weigh heavily against it, does not mean that there is no joy to be had in our lives. Advent is a season of watching and waiting, when we are reminded that God is at work in our world, even when we don't see it. Faith is about hope -- trusting that what we see in this current moment is not the final word. Watching and waiting means believing that God is still coming into our lives and into our world, bringing abundant joy beyond all imagining. We can choose to be overwhelmed by the disturbing situations around us, or we can choose to trust that God is even now striving to awaken us to the joy which permeates all of creation.

One of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite authors is a little paragraph under the heading of "Joy" in Frederick Buechner's "Wishful Thinking". "Happiness turns up more or less where you'd expect it to -- a good marriage, a rewarding job, a pleasant vacation. Joy, on the other hand, is as notoriously unpredictable as the one who bequeathes it." It doesn't always show up when or where or even how we might expect. But if we can begin to trust that God's desire for us is to fill the world with joy, if we can begin to open our lives to God's presence, if we can begin to allow God to shape our perspective and our perceptions, then we can begin to discover the unexpected joy which is all around us.

The experience of joy which Isaiah describes in his vision of the desert blooming and new health being restored was certainly not what would have been expected. It was not even what would have been considered possible. But it was not beyond what is possible for God. It is a song of lyrical abandonment, which serves as a healing alternative to the grim despair which often threatens to overpower us and as a counter to our modern sense that no real newness is possible. In the midst of this Advent season, as we focus on such seemingly impossible themes as Hope and Peace and Joy and Love, we are preparing to discover the impossible works of God which will permit us to dance and sing and march and thank and celebrate and live! And we are preparing to discover them in the most unexpected of places.

That is what happened to John the Baptist. He thought he knew what he was watching and waiting for. He thought he knew what he was preparing the people to receive. When Jesus came to John to be baptized, John declared that he was not worthy even to untie Jesus' sandals. John recognized Jesus as the promised one of God -- the long awaited Messiah -- for whom he had been watching. But then something happened. Jesus began to preach and teach and minister among the people -- proclaiming in word and deed the good news of God's love. And John was not prepared for that. Jesus was not the kind of Messiah that John had been expecting. So, at the end of his life, from his prison cell, he sends his disciples to ask Jesus if he is indeed the One for whom they had been waiting. And Jesus sends back a most interesting reply. "Go and tell John what you hear and see -- the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them." (Matthew 11:4-5) He quotes from Isaiah's vision. He tells John to expand his expectations of God. The Messiah is God's agent of unexpected joy -- health and new life for all of creation. It was not what John was expecting. But it is who God is.

And it is precisely this kind of unexpected joy to which we are called to participate as followers of Christ. As we open ourselves to the activity of God in us and through us we find joy in the most unlikely of places. I have recently been privileged to experience such joy on your behalf because I am the pastor of this congregation. Several weeks ago a friend of mine called me from Orofino. He is the pastor of the Christian church there. A woman had come to him because she was worried about her daughter, who lives in Moscow. She was going through a rough time in her life and the mother wondered if my friend knew someone who could call her, just to touch base. He called me. I called the daughter. The chain of love extended through people who had never met. God was at work. There was joy in the experience. Last Sunday I announced that a driver was needed for someone who was moving to Astoria. This was after several people from the church had helped to pack up his pickup truck. A volunteer came forward. Then another driver surfaced. Everything fell into place. God was at work. There was joy in the experience. Earlier this week I received an e-mail from a woman I had never met who lives in Nova Scotia. Her son is in jail here in Moscow. Could I go visit him? I went. I communicated the love of a mother for her son. God was at work. There was joy in the experience. I had not expected any of these encounters. I would not have looked for joy to be found in such occasions. But I sought to be open to God's activity in and through my life. And what I found was joy.

As you watch and wait and prepare for the coming of Christ into your life and into the world, expect the unexpected. It will be God's gift of joy!