December 14th, 2025
by Lars Dahl
by Lars Dahl
The Christmas season floods our senses with the word "joy." It's everywhere, embroidered on throw pillows, printed on holiday cards, and piped through store speakers alongside sleigh bells and synthetic snow.
Yet for many of us, joy feels less like a present reality and more like a distant memory, something we knew before life became complicated, before disappointment settled in, before the weight of the world pressed down.
But what if joy isn't what we've been told it is? What if it's not a feeling we manufacture or a mood we conjure through the right playlist and perfect lighting? What if joy is something, or rather, Someone entirely different?
The Foundation: Hope, Peace, and Joy
Before we can understand joy, we need to understand its foundation. Joy doesn't grow in isolation; it springs from roots planted deep in biblical hope and watered by supernatural peace.
Biblical hope isn't wishful thinking or crossing our fingers that things might work out. Biblical hope declares with confidence: "God will do what He said, even if I don't see it yet." This hope isn't naive optimism; it's anchored trust in the character and promises of God.
From this hope grows peace, not the absence of trouble, but the presence of God in the midst of it. Hope says, "God is working." Peace responds, "So I don't have to fear." And when hope anchors us and peace calms us, joy overflows naturally, like water from a spring that cannot be stopped.
This is the joy that heaven announced on that first Christmas night.
The Problem: Christianity Without Christ
Before we return to that starlit field where shepherds kept watch, we need to address a sobering warning from 2 Timothy 3:1-5. Paul describes the last days as "perilous times" characterized by people "having a form of godliness but denying its power."
This phrase should stop us in our tracks.
A "form of godliness" means the appearance of faith without its substance, religious language without life transformation, spiritual habits without heart surrender, Christian labels without Christ-centered living. It's Christianity as culture rather than conversion, Christ as mascot rather than Master.
In this counterfeit faith, people love the music but not the repentance, the community but not the cost, the comfort but not the cross. They want inspiration without transformation, blessing without obedience, heaven without holiness.
The power Paul speaks of, the power they deny, is the transforming work of the Holy Spirit that overcomes sin, produces holiness, and enables obedience. Without this power, Christianity becomes a self-help philosophy dressed in religious clothing, a spiritual brand that asks nothing and changes nothing.
So we must examine ourselves: Are we truly born again, Spirit-filled, and walking in obedience? Or have we settled for looking Christian while living unchanged?
The Announcement: Joy Breaks Into Ordinary Life
Now we return to the fields outside Bethlehem, where the announcement of joy first echoed across the earth.
The shepherds in Luke 2:8-16 weren't religious elites or spiritual superstars. They were blue-collar workers on the night shift, smelling like sheep and sleeping under stars, marginalized by society and considered ritually unclean by religious standards. They were tired, forgotten, and ordinary.
And God chose them first. "Do not be afraid," the angel declared, "for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people."
Notice what happened: Joy appeared in the middle of their workplace, amid their exhaustion, in the ordinariness of their lives. The shepherds' circumstances didn't change between verse 8 and verse 10. They were still working, still outside, still overlooked. But suddenly, joy broke in.
This teaches us something profound: Joy doesn't wait for perfect circumstances. Joy comes from the perfect Savior.
God often does His deepest work not in the moments that feel sacred, but in the moments that feel messy, weary, and unholy. He meets us not when we've cleaned ourselves up, but when we're covered in the dust and sweat of ordinary life.
The Message: Joy Has a Name
The angel didn't offer the shepherds a self-improvement plan or positive thinking techniques. He announced a birth: "For there is born to you this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord."
This is the heart of Christian joy: Joy isn't a personality trait, a spiritual talent, or a seasonal emotion. Joy is a Person. Joy has a name, and His name is Jesus.
He is Savior—because we need rescue from sin and death. He is Christ, because He is God's promised King. He is Lord, because He reigns over all creation.
This is why Christian joy cannot be stolen. The world didn't give it, so the world cannot take it away. Joy is rooted in the unchanging reality of who Jesus is and what He has accomplished, not in the shifting circumstances of our lives.
The Response: Joy Calls Us to Move
Hearing the message wasn't enough for the shepherds. They didn't say, "That's nice," and go back to counting sheep. They said, "Let us now go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has come to pass."
Biblical joy is not passive; it's active. It pulls us toward Christ. It compels us to seek Him, to move toward Him, to find Him where He said He would be.
And where did the shepherds find Him? Not on a throne surrounded by angelic choirs and supernatural light shows. They found Him in a manger, probably in a cave, lying in a feeding trough meant for animals.
The setting was humble, quiet, and confusing. Yet they found joy there, because joy is always found where Jesus is, regardless of the packaging.
Your life may not look "joy-ready" right now. The circumstances may be humble, the setting may be ordinary, and the moment may feel anything but magical. But Jesus has a way of turning ordinary spaces into holy ground.
The Invitation: Come to the Manger
This Christmas season, joy isn't about pretending everything is fine. Joy isn't demanding that you manufacture positive feelings or fake happiness for the sake of holiday cheer.
Joy is inviting you to come to the manger, where God stepped into our messy, broken world and said, "I am here. And I am enough."
Come tired. Come weary. Come with your questions and disappointments. Come smelling like sheep if you must. Just come.
Because joy, real, lasting, unshakeable joy, is waiting there, wrapped in swaddling cloths, lying in a manger, ready to transform your ordinary life into something gloriously, supernaturally extraordinary.
Yet for many of us, joy feels less like a present reality and more like a distant memory, something we knew before life became complicated, before disappointment settled in, before the weight of the world pressed down.
But what if joy isn't what we've been told it is? What if it's not a feeling we manufacture or a mood we conjure through the right playlist and perfect lighting? What if joy is something, or rather, Someone entirely different?
The Foundation: Hope, Peace, and Joy
Before we can understand joy, we need to understand its foundation. Joy doesn't grow in isolation; it springs from roots planted deep in biblical hope and watered by supernatural peace.
Biblical hope isn't wishful thinking or crossing our fingers that things might work out. Biblical hope declares with confidence: "God will do what He said, even if I don't see it yet." This hope isn't naive optimism; it's anchored trust in the character and promises of God.
From this hope grows peace, not the absence of trouble, but the presence of God in the midst of it. Hope says, "God is working." Peace responds, "So I don't have to fear." And when hope anchors us and peace calms us, joy overflows naturally, like water from a spring that cannot be stopped.
This is the joy that heaven announced on that first Christmas night.
The Problem: Christianity Without Christ
Before we return to that starlit field where shepherds kept watch, we need to address a sobering warning from 2 Timothy 3:1-5. Paul describes the last days as "perilous times" characterized by people "having a form of godliness but denying its power."
This phrase should stop us in our tracks.
A "form of godliness" means the appearance of faith without its substance, religious language without life transformation, spiritual habits without heart surrender, Christian labels without Christ-centered living. It's Christianity as culture rather than conversion, Christ as mascot rather than Master.
In this counterfeit faith, people love the music but not the repentance, the community but not the cost, the comfort but not the cross. They want inspiration without transformation, blessing without obedience, heaven without holiness.
The power Paul speaks of, the power they deny, is the transforming work of the Holy Spirit that overcomes sin, produces holiness, and enables obedience. Without this power, Christianity becomes a self-help philosophy dressed in religious clothing, a spiritual brand that asks nothing and changes nothing.
So we must examine ourselves: Are we truly born again, Spirit-filled, and walking in obedience? Or have we settled for looking Christian while living unchanged?
The Announcement: Joy Breaks Into Ordinary Life
Now we return to the fields outside Bethlehem, where the announcement of joy first echoed across the earth.
The shepherds in Luke 2:8-16 weren't religious elites or spiritual superstars. They were blue-collar workers on the night shift, smelling like sheep and sleeping under stars, marginalized by society and considered ritually unclean by religious standards. They were tired, forgotten, and ordinary.
And God chose them first. "Do not be afraid," the angel declared, "for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people."
Notice what happened: Joy appeared in the middle of their workplace, amid their exhaustion, in the ordinariness of their lives. The shepherds' circumstances didn't change between verse 8 and verse 10. They were still working, still outside, still overlooked. But suddenly, joy broke in.
This teaches us something profound: Joy doesn't wait for perfect circumstances. Joy comes from the perfect Savior.
God often does His deepest work not in the moments that feel sacred, but in the moments that feel messy, weary, and unholy. He meets us not when we've cleaned ourselves up, but when we're covered in the dust and sweat of ordinary life.
The Message: Joy Has a Name
The angel didn't offer the shepherds a self-improvement plan or positive thinking techniques. He announced a birth: "For there is born to you this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord."
This is the heart of Christian joy: Joy isn't a personality trait, a spiritual talent, or a seasonal emotion. Joy is a Person. Joy has a name, and His name is Jesus.
He is Savior—because we need rescue from sin and death. He is Christ, because He is God's promised King. He is Lord, because He reigns over all creation.
This is why Christian joy cannot be stolen. The world didn't give it, so the world cannot take it away. Joy is rooted in the unchanging reality of who Jesus is and what He has accomplished, not in the shifting circumstances of our lives.
The Response: Joy Calls Us to Move
Hearing the message wasn't enough for the shepherds. They didn't say, "That's nice," and go back to counting sheep. They said, "Let us now go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has come to pass."
Biblical joy is not passive; it's active. It pulls us toward Christ. It compels us to seek Him, to move toward Him, to find Him where He said He would be.
And where did the shepherds find Him? Not on a throne surrounded by angelic choirs and supernatural light shows. They found Him in a manger, probably in a cave, lying in a feeding trough meant for animals.
The setting was humble, quiet, and confusing. Yet they found joy there, because joy is always found where Jesus is, regardless of the packaging.
Your life may not look "joy-ready" right now. The circumstances may be humble, the setting may be ordinary, and the moment may feel anything but magical. But Jesus has a way of turning ordinary spaces into holy ground.
The Invitation: Come to the Manger
This Christmas season, joy isn't about pretending everything is fine. Joy isn't demanding that you manufacture positive feelings or fake happiness for the sake of holiday cheer.
Joy is inviting you to come to the manger, where God stepped into our messy, broken world and said, "I am here. And I am enough."
Come tired. Come weary. Come with your questions and disappointments. Come smelling like sheep if you must. Just come.
Because joy, real, lasting, unshakeable joy, is waiting there, wrapped in swaddling cloths, lying in a manger, ready to transform your ordinary life into something gloriously, supernaturally extraordinary.
Lars Dahl
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