“Rejoice, Jerusalem, and be glad because of her, all you who love her.”  This Sunday is traditionally called Laetare Sunday from these opening words of the Entrance Antiphon of today’s Mass.  "Rejoice, Jerusalem."  This is "Rejoice Sunday."  The strict simplicity of the Lenten liturgy is relaxed a bit today, with prayers that speak of joy and rejoicing, the beautiful gospel of the prodigal son in which we see the joy of a father welcoming his son home, and vestments of the color rose, worn only two days in the year: just like on that Sunday in December half-way through Advent, this day we have a kind of softened purple which tempers the penance of the season with shades of joy and hope.  

The Church wants to remind us today of a stunning and counter-cultural truth: the truth that joy is perfectly compatible with restraint and self-discipline; joy is even compatible with suffering.  Even in Lent, the season of penance and self-dscipline, it's perfectly reasonable to have a "Sunday of Rejoicing."  Because of what joy truly is.  Our world tends to identify joy with comfort: if we’re free of pain, if we can indulge our every desire, if we can have everything we want, that will make us happy.  That’s a lie.  We all know, deep inside us, because we’ve seen it again and again: sometimes those with the most stuff, are the most unhappy.  And sometimes the happiest are those with the least, because they are truly free.  “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” our Lord says.  The “poor in spirit” don’t put their stock in things which satisfy only for a brief moment but then leave a feeling of even deeper emptiness behind.  Spending life searching for comfort and pleasure alone, always leads to boredom and sadness and loneliness.  True joy comes from a heart that knows itself to be loved by God, and in turn loves him back.  True joy comes, instead of living for my own comfort, in living for hard work, self-discipline, and sacrificial service to others.  We all have a deep instinct, given to us by God, to give ourselves away, to sacrifice ourselves nobly for others.  In giving ourselves, in sacrifice, even in suffering are we truly fulfilled.  

One of my friends who’s a permanent deacon likes to say that life is a constant cycle of “Passion, Death, Resurrection.”  He says it all the time when you talk to him about your problems.  “Passion, Death, Resurrection.”  This is what our Lord promises us.  I was originally going to try to be clever and say, “God never promised us a rose garden.”  But that’s exactly what he promises us.  Roses are beautiful, and roses have thorns.  Suffering and sacrifice are always part of life, but they are also part of its beauty.  Even the rose goes through Passion, Death, and Resurrection.  It’s fragile.  And that’s part of its beauty too.  Along with the tender beauty and sweet smell, are the thorns, and the knowledge that the rose won’t live forever.  It’s all part of what makes it so agonizingly beautiful.  Just like life.  It’s the pattern of all human life: Passion, Death, Resurrection.  It’s the joy of being united to Christ; in a strange way, it’s the joy of the cross.  Of course, we don’t wish to suffer; that would be perverse.  But if we should happen to encounter sorrow, to undergo suffering, to experience misunderstanding, to be confronted by our sins and the sins of others, we should turn immediately to the Cross of Christ, the source of our deepest happiness and our firmest strength and support: our hope.  Christ’s Cross is our assurance that suffering can have meaning: if we cling to him in our moments of Death, we will rise with him in his Resurrection.  

As Holy Week and Easter draw near, so do forgiveness, mercy, and grace.  If at times we are afraid of suffering, afraid of penance and afraid to deny ourselves and live for others, the truth of the Cross and Resurrection of Christ should fill us with courage: courage at how short the time of our suffering is; how great and eternal the reward. As soon as we cease to be afraid of sacrifice, afraid to forget ourselves and live for others, as soon as we stop being afraid of the Cross, then we find true happiness.  Then our joy is complete.  “Rejoice, Jerusalem, and be glad because of her, all you who love her.”