"Oh, tidings of comfort and joy!" Perhaps, like me, you learned the carol with that refrain as a child. Its merry and rollicking tune made it one of my favorites. And who could be immune to a message, a wish for "comfort and joy?"

Many of us love the traditions of the Christmas season, and probably each of us has a favorite. For some it's a particular story or reading. For some the tree stands out. For others it isn't really the holidays without hot cocoa or cider, without Christmas cookies or some other special food. More than a few love the singing of carols, generally preferring the exact lyrics and arrangement we learned as children. Not that we necessarily agree with those words. For the most part, we don't agree with them much, if at all. But for carols . . . well, it doesn't seem to matter so much.

At least it didn't seem to matter much until I used a line from a carol as my sermon title. I still like the wish and puzzle over it some . . . but when I looked at the other words of the song, I knew I had a problem. Well, we aren't going there. I do want to explore meanings and message. But I'm sticking to the chorus.

Tidings of comfort and joy. There's an indefinite, elusive quality to the phrase. `Tidings' isn't that mysterious . . . just `news' or `message' cloaked in old language. It's the `comfort and joy' part that's so appealing . . . and so open-ended. In fact the embarrassing part of picking this sermon title and topic is that I started thinking about it because of an ad. It was a magazine ad with the words `Comfort and Joy' in large print and one of those soft-focus photographs. You know, the kind of ad that implies that the hard realities don't have to be ever-present, that you can surely find a warm, safe, relaxing space . . . if you just buy their product. The designers wouldn't be too happy to learn that I don't remember which product was involved. But I do remember the attraction of the ad. And somehow I was reminded of a gift I received a while back . . . two boxes of tea. One variety was named "Comfort" and the other (you guessed it!) was "Joy."

The fact that I'd seen two instances of marketing use for the phrase made me think about its appeal. As much as I fume at advertising and sometimes rail against it, I think they know a lot about our psychology. They try to `hook up' their product with some underlying longing, something we really do want. So what is it? What do we understand when we hear the words `comfort and joy'? Why is its promise so alluring?

Let's remember that the words of the Bible's King James version, and the carol, come from late medieval England. Life was a lot different then; a lot harder. No electricity for lighting, TVs, or recorded music. Worse, supplies of food and clean water were unreliable. Neither public health measures nor any understanding of infective agents had yet developed. Central heating wasn't even a dream. Only a very few people could read. Life expectancy was short . . . maybe forty with luck. It's pretty hard for us to imagine. At least partly because life was so difficult, the words spoke more of another world. They express the belief that the birth of Jesus meant the promise of comfort and joy in a better place after the difficulties of this life end.

Today we have a very different understanding of the world. So many discoveries have been made, so many patterns changed! Certainly, our lives have become far easier, safer and nearly twice as long. Especially in the "developed" countries of the world, most of us are well fed and sheltered from storm and cold. We enjoy well-developed public health systems and advanced medical services. Our survival needs are more than met. Free public education is standard. Most of us have enough `stuff' that finding places for it has become a challenge. Our garages no longer hold cars. Closet organization and self-storage units have become whole new lines of business.

Our religious ideas also change as we learn from science, discover insights from other lands and cultures and understand our world and ourselves more fully. Unitarian Universalists today tend to put more emphasis on this world, and struggle with ways to make it more compassionate, just and peaceful for all creatures. We remember that Jesus said that the Kingdom of God is among and within us. (Luke 17:21) How can that be understood? What does it mean if our hands are the ones God uses in the world? What if our images of the divine are faulty and we must find other ways to figure out the best directions for our lives, our world? These questions are quite different than those of the medieval world.

With all this, what can comfort and joy mean to us? Why do we still respond to this promise if our concern is for this world and our survival needs are met? Maybe it's time to look at the words, and the ideas, more deeply. Now when I want to understand a word better, I often start with my unabridged dictionary. It usually has some meanings I haven't thought about. Sometimes the derivation is helpful. It's worth the few moments it takes to check.

I'm afraid I didn't find much help much when I looked up "joy". It said things like "a very glad feeling" and "delight." And the derivations mean "joy" pretty much all the way. I guess it's pretty nervy to challenge dictionary editors, but I'm afraid I am not satisfied with their explanation. I think it misses the element of depth that's fundamental to my understanding of `joy.' I might be very glad that you brought cookies to share. I may be thrilled that my team won yesterday's game. I would be delighted at finding just the right gift for someone on my list. But I would never use the word "joy" for those feelings. If I'm going to use 'joy' I have to be talking about something that lasts, that has staying power. Something deep within me has to be moved. The term `soul-satisfying' comes to mind; the sense that somehow all is well, at least in part of my world.

Joy is the deep-down feeling that puts a spring in my step and a melody in my heart. Mostly, I'd say it comes from my relationships; my connections with family, friends and colleagues. This congregation and the many wonderful things happening here are a source of joy for me. Then there's the natural world and being outdoors, and the little piece of ground and growing things I call my garden. I could go on, but instead I'll ask you to think of your own life, your own joys. Who would you name? What gives you special joy? Those things may be different from my examples. You'll know that you've identified the right someone or something when you feel a smile forming itself without your prompting. (Pause) It's impossible to be reminded of those deep wellsprings too often. They are life-giving, life-affirming. This is what I mean by 'joy'.

When I checked the dictionary entry for comfort, I had no complaints for those same editors. I had been thinking of ease, of feeling relaxed. After all, if you Google `comfort' you get a lot of stuff about mattresses, easy chairs and shoes that fit well. I'd also thought about comfort as helping to soothe distress, pain or loss. We comfort each other in times of trouble. And those meanings were given. But the dictionary started with something else; it stretched my thinking. It takes up the verb `comfort' first and the number one meaning listed is "to strengthen, invigorate, cheer, enliven." I had never thought of those as synonyms for comfort. I'm still chewing on that meaning a bit, but it turns out that it comes right from the Latin roots "com", meaning together, and "fort", meaning strong. Together we become strong. Our pains are easier to bear, our worries are eased, our spirits are renewed. We are strengthened, invigorated, cheered and enlivened. In other words, as we are comforted we come into our powers. When we comfort another, we help them to renew themselves.

So how do we comfort one another? How do we find comfort? It goes beyond the meatloaf and mashed potatoes type menus called "comfort foods." Sometimes the presence of someone you trust and the way they listen to you can give great comfort. Music might fill the bill for you. Perhaps silence is what you need most. Sometimes a gesture of kindness, a small gift or a note renews your spirit. Let's pause again, and this time think of those things, those people who comfort us; of the ways we offer comfort. (Pause)

I hate to disturb all this good feeling, but we need to realize that comfort can definitely be turned and twisted, can be overdone. The trouble comes when we stop with the ease part, when comfort is self-indulgent rather than renewing. Now I am all for good mattresses and comfy shoes. I want to feel good as much as anyone. But comfort changes when we forget the `together' and the `strength.' Miriam Beard warns us that, "Comfort . . . easily merges into license." Now, I don't know enough of her context to know just what she meant by `license' but I take it to mean inertia, self indulgence and self-satisfaction. We can get so comfortable that we sort of turn to mush. It figures that mashed spuds are the kind referred to when we hear of `couch potatoes.' We may be at ease, but we've lost touch with energy, strength and liveliness.

Or maybe we get sucked in by ads like the one I mentioned. Maybe we act as if this or that product really will bring comfort to our spirits as well as to our bunions or our aching backs. When it doesn't happen, well, we try another product. We don't get a lot of encouragement to stop and reject the premise that buying the right thing will change our lives. Full closets and garages don't necessarily mean that our spirits are strong and healthy.

So I like and recommend that first definition of comfort: to strengthen, invigorate, cheer, enliven. I remind you that the roots link togetherness and strength. They imply that we find and grow our liveliness and cheer in community. And we are certainly needed if the world is ever to be more just, more loving and more peaceful. Our energies, our strength and liveliness all contribute to the work. We are enlivened, connected to the forces that create and uphold life and being, when we are agents for good. Perhaps this in turn is connected to the ways we develop and discover sources of joy.

Maybe the carol has the order just right. Maybe it's when we are strengthened, cheered and invigorated, when we soothe the distress of others, bring hope . . . or when we receive those gifts . . . maybe that kind of comfort does indeed lead to joy. No wonder the message is so appealing! Of course we want to feel good, to be strong and lively, to be allied with the powers of life! We want a deep and abiding sense of joy. Maybe they really do come together. That news, those `tidings' are indeed appealing and most welcome.

So let's sing the carol. You'll find words in your program. The chorus is exactly the way you remember it - but I've changed the other words a lot.

11 December 2005

(Copyright by Rev. Grace Simons. Contact the author for permission to use.)

This is one in a collection of Minister's Sermons. We also have a collection of Guest Sermons, a brief Welcome and Biography from Rev. Simons, and the latest edition of Grace Notes, a column Rev. Grace writes for our newsletter.