Joyful liturgies are what we are about as Christians – reflecting on Sancrosanctum Concilium
Analysis and Comment – Thomas O’Loughlin – September 16, 2025
Joy as a profession of faith
The joyfulness inherent within Christian liturgy is a primary expression of faith: the Christ has conquered, our redemption is ‘close at hand’ and the cry ‘maranatha’ – come Lord Jesus – is not only one of the oldest cries of our gatherings (1 Cor 16:22; Didache 10; and Apoc 22:20) but sets the whole tone of our liturgy.
When asked about “professions of faith” in the liturgy we usually think of reciting the creed, or perhaps the occasional renewal of baptismal promises.
Indeed, the whole idea of professing faith tends to bring to mind an exam with questions and answers.
We get images in our heads of a string of questions like ‘do you believe this?’ and ‘do you believe that?’ and a quiz-like encounter.
But this entire formalised approach to questions about believing only makes sense if we already actually believe that the loving Father’s purposes are going to be brought to joyful conclusion.
Our joyfulness, even in times of suffering, is the expression of this faith – which may or may not be formalised in creeds and questions and catechisms.
Joy is at core of our vision.
Mourning and resurrection
So, when we gather – for instance at a funeral – the sadness of our loss as the small group who grieve the death of a loved one has to find support and understanding from the larger community.
Death is death and loss is loss and tears are real: Jesus wept at the death of his friend (Jn 11:35).
But within that larger gathering we hear another theme that must stand alongside our mourning: ‘The last enemy to be destroyed is death’ (1 Cor 15:26).
It was to capture this two-sided aspect of how we face the future that led to many of the changes in the liturgy in the 1970s.
Until then the standard colour of vestments at a funeral was black (in European culture the colour of death and mourning).
This was replaced by white – the colour of joy and resurrection – or purple as the colour of sadness but without the note of dark finality expressed by black.
Likewise, the coffin used to be surrounded by four or six candles in brown (unbleached wax) – another sign of mourning.
Now at head of the coffin stands the great symbol of Easter: the Paschal Candle.
That candle – linked to Easter, baptism, and beginnings – is there because for all our grief, we confess that we continue our journey through death to new life.
The funeral is but the most explicit case of something that is true of every liturgy: our individual sadness and loneliness needs to encounter our community faith.
The gathered community is the sacrament through which the joy of the risen Lord encounters us.
Every liturgy should sow the seeds of joy
in every one of its celebrants.
