This week the Stanley Works laid off 2,000 more workers; there is corruption in Illinois that reads like a bad novel; there was a suicide bombing in an Iraqi restaurant that killed 50 people; and there are places in the world right now where people don’t have enough to food to eat—some of them thousands of miles away, some probably only thousands of feet away. Rejoice always?

Despite some resistance and confusion, overall things have been going pretty well in the Thessalonian church, and Paul writes this letter to encourage the Thessalonians to keep up the good work, to keep their eyes on the big picture and not get lost in the noise. Today’s lesson is the last few sentences of that letter, Paul’s parting advice, and while it sounds noble and well-intentioned, it’s advice like that that convinces people who aren’t religious—and challenges those of us who are—that Christians are in some sort of large-scale denial about real life, and choose to wear plastic smiles instead of getting down to business.

And not only do we have Paul’s to-do list in front of us—which is quite a different list than the ones most of us have in hand as the holidays approach—but it’s the third Sunday in Advent and we just lit the candle on our wreath that symbolizes joy—the joy we are supposed to experience in anticipation of Christ’s birth in Bethlehem. But how do you really experience joy when life is often full of things that aren’t joyful? And in the longer-term, how can we really obey Paul’s instruction to “Rejoice always?”

Well, people of faith like us just have to look at things differently than scientists and pragmatists and politicians and cynics—and we get ourselves into spiritual trouble when we don’t, when we allow facts to define our faith, rather than the other way around. And this is no more evident than in the case of joy, which is something altogether different from that feeling depicted on television when you get that Christmas gift you wanted so much. For people of faith, joy is not just happiness in the moment.

Both Donna and I are fans of Barbara Brown Taylor, who writes about the life of faith and about the practice of Christian ministry. And about this feeling of joy, she says something perhaps unexpected: “Joy has never had very much to do with what is going on in the world at the time. That is what makes it different from happiness, or pleasure, or fun. All of those depend on positive conditions—good health, good job, happy family, lots of toys. The only condition for joy is the presence of God. Joy happens when God is present and people know it, which means that it can erupt in a depressed economy, in the middle of war, in an intensive care waiting room.”

So if real joy, soul joy, comes when God is present and you know it, then, can you begin to see how it might just be possible to do as Paul says and “rejoice always?” If God is always present, then it could be possible to be mindful of that presence all day long, and experience a kind of joy that isn’t dependent on things going our way, but on God’s goodness in the big picture. We could actually, as Paul says, “Give thanks in all circumstances,” not because we’re lucky enough to have all circumstances the way we want—that’s impossible—but because within all circumstances, God is present, and part of us knows for certain that is more than enough.

The joy of knowing and trusting God’s presence is what allows faithful disciples to be content and thankful even in the midst of awful moments: arguments at work or home, trips to the emergency room, bad news on your bank statement, disagreements at church, even Christmas in a broken world. The dangerous trap I think we all fall into from time to time is believing that joy can only come when circumstances are optimal, and since that never happens, or happens in the rarest of instances, we then begin to doubt joy is even possible and God’s promises begin to feel hollow. If we equate rejoicing with only happy circumstances, then Paul’s advice seems like pure foolishness, in fact, it is pure foolishness. But if we can look beyond the concrete and tangible, beyond all our assessments of happy and sad, good and bad, if we can see the larger view with the eyes of faith, then God’s perpetual presence makes giving thanks in all circumstances what people nowadays call a no-brainer. God is good all the time. All the time God is good.

For my generation growing up, one topic always ripe for debate was “Who is your favorite Beatle?” For me it wasn’t John Lennon—too angry; or Paul McCartney—too theatrical; or Ringo Starr, too Ringo-ish; it was George Harrison. George was the quiet Beatle; he was always thoughtful and reflective. And long after those well-publicized Beatle trips to India to study with the sages, it was George who in later years showed that he stayed with those disciplines, and had embraced a life of faith that shaped the mature adult he became. And in one of my favorite songs of his, called “I Live for You”—“You” being God—George does seem to be channeling the Apostle Paul in this morning’s Scripture lesson, echoing that same advice.

The song speaks about living contentedly, waiting in patient confidence that the presence of God, now dimly but genuinely felt through all the noise and ups and downs of present, daily life, will one day be experienced fully. God’s constant presence allows for the joy of contentment in a sometimes difficult present.

Not a thing in this world do I own
Only sadness from all that is grown
In this darkness I wait for the day
Yes it’s true—I live for you.

All this time my thoughts return to you
Give my love that is all I can do
Wait in line till I feel you in side
Yes it’s true—I live for you.

For many years I wait.
Through many tears I wait.

So in a world that feels pretty chaotic at the moment, in daily lives that have ups and downs and successes and disappointments, Christmas is coming. Yet the joy of Christmas, the joy of God coming to us in flesh and blood, is not changed a bit, or need not be experienced by you and me any less, because our lives have problems, or we don’t feel ready, or we’re hurting this year. Real joy goes beyond circumstance—so let go of all that isn’t right and choose to rejoice entirely.