14 Dec 2025, Advent 3, Isaha 35:1-10, Matthew 11:2-11, True Joy

Before we begin, I want to share some news about my family in Korea. Last Sunday afternoon, my mother, who lives in Korea, had her official retirement ceremony.

What makes this special… is that… she did not retire from a job, but from her service at the church.

You might be wondering, “Was she a minister or a pastor?” The answer is no.

She served in a unique role called “Gwonsa”. This is a title specific to the Korean church, but in our context, you could think of it… as a female elder or a council member.

Since she turned 70 this year, she reached the mandatory retirement age according to Korean church tradition.

It is a significant milestone, when the whole congregation gathers to honour a lifetime of faithfulness, hard work, and dedication.

Personally, I feel that 70 is still far too young to retire. But tradition is tradition, so we receive it with gratitude.

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Now, here is the most interesting part. I found out that she received a special gift of appreciation from the church. Can you guess what it was? It was pure gold. Yes, real gold.

Having lived in Australia for many years, I found this quite amusing. So I jokingly said to her, “Mum, I’m actually a bit jealous. In Australia, even ministers do not receive gold when they retire.”She listened to my complaint and simply replied, “Well then, come back here and retire.”So… members of the Church Council, shall we go together?

As you can see in this photo, my mum is standing with two other retirees, surrounded by the blessings of family and the congregation. I will not tell you exactly which one she is, but she is definitely the prettiest one there.

Because I could not be there in person, my younger sister attended on behalf of our family. Later, watching the livestream of the service…. deeply touched me.

Seeing the minister’s prayer, the congregation’s blessings, and all the flowers and gifts she received, I could not help but almost tear up.

I felt sorry that I could not be with her, but at the same time, I realised this. She has truly served the church. Even my sister told me she was surprised by the outpouring of love and felt incredibly proud of our mum.

The church also asked our family to send a video message. As some of you may know, we are quite a shy family. After many discussions about who should do it, Haryne finally stepped up and recorded a short message like this.  

As I reflect on…. all of this, I realise there is a deeper truth there. Even though I was not physically present at… such a meaningful moment, I was still able to share and embrace the joy of that day. Of course, my mum may have felt a sense of emptiness because I was not there. I am sure…. she wanted to introduce her son, Dana, and her grandchildren to her church friends. After all, she is a mum.

Through this experience, I came to a profound reflection on the delicate tension, or perhaps the space, between the “not yet” and the “already.”

Why do I use the words “not yet”? Let me explain.

That longing, that sense that something is missing, that quiet ache in your heart when you wish you could be there, but you cannot……

I felt this deeply….. as I watched her retirement service from thousands of kilometres away. I was not there. I could not sit beside her. Something was missing.

That is the reality of the “not yet.”

And then, why do I also use the word “already”? And yet, she knew. She knew that my heart was right there with her. Love crossed the distance. That connection had already arrived.

That is the reality of the “already.” Even though I had not yet arrived at that place, at that time, at that moment of gratitude, already she knew… that my presence was right there with her. Isn’t that amazing?

What I want to say is this. This is the space we all live in. Not just in my story, but in our real lives, every single day. Especially today, as we focus on joy, we begin to see that true joy lives in this same space.

We see…..Joy is not just the happiness we feel when everything looks good. It is not simply putting on a brave face and telling ourselves, “Don’t worry, it’s going to be okay.” …….Advent joy goes deeper than that.

It is the joy that still finds room… to breathe even when things are not okay.

It is the joy of knowing that God is holding our lives right now, the already, even when the storm in our lives is not yet over.

This may feel like a tension. At times, it can feel heavy. But it is not a harsh tension. It is a holy one, and a mysterious one…….

And this is exactly where our Scriptures meet us today. From the book of Isaiah, chapter 35, we hear a voice speaking to a weary and wounded people: “Be strong. Do not fear. Your God is coming!”

The land is still dry. The journey is not yet finished. Nothing around them has fully changed. And yet, as we listen to Isaiah, we can hear it clearly. His voice is overflowing with joy and expectation.

He speaks like someone whose eyes are fixed on something real, as if he is already seeing the glory of God right there in front of him.

From wilderness to water. From fear to strength. From silence to singing. From the desert to a highway of holiness, filled with everlasting joy.

Isaiah could speak this way …..because he was already living in the “already.” He was seeing with the eyes of faith what others could not yet see. He trusted God’s promise that the future had already begun to shape his present. So…I have to say he was already living the joy, the healing, and the fulfillment he longed for…..

But then, we turn the page. And in Matthew chapter 11, we meet John the Baptist, not in the wilderness preaching, but in prison.

There is no singing with joy. Instead, we hear a painful question: “Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?”

This is not the voice of celebration. This is the voice of waiting. …Of uncertainty. Of the “not yet.”

I believe John is not doubting God. He is wrestling with the gap, the space, the tension between what he believed and what he is now experiencing!!!

This is how I want us to understand it today...

Isaiah is living in the “already.” He speaks from a place where the final victory of joy is already in view.

John the Baptist, on the other hand, is living in the “not yet.”  Yes…. the messy, confusing, unfinished middle.

And let me be very clear. This is not about Isaiah being right and John being wrong. Not at all. They are companions in faith, standing at different places in the same story.

Brothers and sisters, let me ask you this today. Where do we find ourselves right now?Are we basking in the overflowing joy of Isaiah? Or are we wrestling and questioning in the prison of the “not yet,” like John the Baptist?

Surely, we live between the promise and its fulfillment. Between the joy we can already enjoy and the joy we are still waiting for.

And….. it is precisely in that space, between Isaiah’s vision and John’s wondering, that Advent invites us to live, to wait, and to hope….Somewhere between the mountaintop and the prison cell, we find ourselves.

If we are living in the time of the “already,” if your heart is full, thank God. Enjoy that joy. But do not keep it to yourself. Our job is to share it. Spread it. Let your joy be contagious.

Sing as if that joy is right before your eyes. Proclaim it boldly. Baby Jesus has come with great joy. The wilderness is turning into water. Fear is giving way to strength. Silence is becoming song. Everlasting joy is breaking into our life, because the child Jesus has come among us.

But if we are living in the time of the “not yet,” if we are still waiting, if you desperate need this joy….I invite you to thank God as well.

Do not despair. Trust that God is holding us. “Not because the pain is good, but because God is good.

Just recently, our hearts were heavy with the tragedy of Tony,a man from Athelstone, from our community.

Tony was a long-time friend of Ian Fry, and on Friday, he died suddenly in a tragic accident.

In moments like this, there are no words. The “not yet” feels painfully real. The questions are loud, and the answers feel far away….

At times like this, We light a candle.

So this candle we light today… is a candle of remembrance,a candle of prayer….and a candle of hope.

As we light this candle, We hold Ian and all who grieve him in our prayers.

Even in the “not yet,” …this small flame reminds usthat God’s light is still shining, quietly, faithfully, among us.

It reminds us that even the very first Christmas was not only a place of joy, but also a place marked by sorrow and what was yet to come.

And I know that right here in our church community, there are silent stories of pain…..that many of us are carrying.

But hear this. Because we are in this space, in this tension, even this place, this in-between, unfinished……., is …holy… ground.

That means there is no moment in our lives when we cannot rejoice.

No season is wasted. Every moment, even now, can become a place where joy is born!! That is why we can still be thankful and rejoice. Even now, we are able to hold on to hope and dare to dream of tomorrow.

So rejoice in the Lord. Rejoice wherever you stand today. Rejoice even if you are weeping as you say it.

Rejoice!. Let’s say!, let us keep going!. Let us live again. 

Because this joy is already ours. Invisible, yet real. And because we hold this joy, we can, and we will be restored.

So whether you are living more in the “already” or more in the “not yet,” this is where true joy is found.

This is exactly where Advent people live.

Between promise and fulfillment.

Between vision and question.

Between the manger and the cross.

And in that space, God is there. So come, Baby Jesus. Come into our joy. Come into our waiting. Come into our lives, right here, right now. Amen.