This morning, I pulled a small, simple cross from my Advent calendar. I’ll admit, it made me pause. After days of quirky and mundane items—a rubber band, a coffee bean, a Band-Aid—here was the first truly “religious” item. The Cross made a stark appearance. And so close to Christmas? Isn’t Christmas supposed to be joyful, filled with twinkling lights, carols, and good cheer? Does the Cross belong here?

Once I got over the surprise, it struck me: of course the Cross belongs here. You can’t separate the manger from the Cross. The baby in the manger is the Savior who will carry the weight of the world’s sins to Calvary. The joy of Christmas is inseparable from the sacrifice of the Cross. And yet, we also shouldn’t separate the joy of Christmas from the passion of Holy Week. Perhaps that’s what the Resurrection is all about—but maybe that’s a reflection for another time!

As I held that little cross, a question came to mind: _How does joy help me carry my daily burdens?_ At first glance, joy and burdens seem like opposites, but today’s reflection invites us to see how deeply they are connected.


Our faith is full of paradoxes, and this is one of the most beautiful: joy isn’t found in avoiding burdens, but in carrying them with love. Jesus himself said, _“Whoever does not take up his cross and follow me is not worthy of me”_ (Matthew 10:38). But He also said, _“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest”_ (Matthew 11:28). In Christ, even the heaviest burdens become bearable because they are carried with meaning, purpose, and grace.

Advent is a season of waiting and preparation, but it’s also a season of joy. Today’s readings reflect this beautifully. Zephaniah calls us to _“shout for joy”_ because _“the Lord, your God, is in your midst, a mighty savior”_ (Zephaniah 3:14-17). And in the Gospel, we see Mary’s joyful encounter with Elizabeth, where even the unborn John the Baptist leaps for joy in his mother’s womb. These moments remind us that joy is not the absence of hardship—it’s the presence of God.
But what about the burdens we carry? How can we find joy amid challenges, pain, or loss? Today’s O Antiphon gives us a clue: _“O Radiant Dawn, splendor of eternal light, sun of justice: come and shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death!”_ Christ is the Radiant Dawn who breaks into our darkness, illuminating even the heaviest crosses with His light.

When we carry our burdens with faith, trusting in God’s love and plan, we often discover unexpected growth, compassion, and even joy. Think of Mary’s journey. Her _yes_ to God brought immense joy, but it also brought challenges: the long journey to Bethlehem, the uncertainty of giving birth in a stable, and ultimately, the shadow of the cross. Yet she carried it all with grace, trusting in the One who called her.


That little Advent cross reminded me that our burdens, no matter how heavy, can be carried with joy when we unite them to Christ’s. Joy doesn’t mean we’re always smiling or that life is easy. It means living with the deep assurance that God is with us, even in the midst of our struggles.

This Advent, we’re invited to rediscover joy—not by avoiding life’s difficulties, but by embracing them with faith and love. Joy flows from acts of service, kindness, and justice, as we reflect God’s love to others. It grows when we shift our focus from ourselves to those around us.


What cross are you carrying today? Take a moment to lift it up in prayer, asking God for His strength and peace. Then, consider how you can bring joy to someone else. Perhaps it’s checking on a neighbor, offering a kind word, or taking time to listen to a friend. This Advent we've been reminded many times that faith isn’t just about words—it’s about actions that reflect God’s love.


Advent reminds us that joy and the cross are inseparable. Just as the Radiant Dawn follows the night, joy springs forth when we carry our burdens with faith and love. Let’s see the crosses in our lives not as obstacles but as opportunities to grow closer to Christ. And let’s share that joy with others, becoming lights in their darkness.

As we prepare for Christmas, let’s remember: the joy of the manger leads us to the joy of the cross—and ultimately, to the joy of the Resurrection. In the light of Christ, even our heaviest burdens can lead to hope and peace.