Why Is There A Pink Candle (An Advent Sermon About Joy)

Why’s There a Pink Candle? (An Advent Sermon About Joy)

James Jackson / General Adult

Every year during the month of December, we have the Advent wreath onstage. This is my ninth Christmas season as your pastor, and I know we've had it as long as I've been here, and I checked around and found out that Bruce did it before me, and Chip did it before him. So we're all used to seeing it. And most of us are used to the fact that there are three purple candles and one pink candle. And most of us just accept that that's the way advent wreaths are. We don't question it. Except that usually, at least one person does each year. "Pastor, why is there one pink candle? Was Hobby Lobby out of purple candles and you just thought maybe no one would notice?" And when they ask, I always say, "No, no-- it's intentional. The pink candle is the Candle of Joy." And most people are satisfied with that answer. "Oh... the candle of joy. I get it now." But inevitably, someone is going to come along who wants to take it one step further. "But why is pink the color of joy? What makes pink a more joyful color than purple?" And so if you are that kid-- well, this sermon is for you. I decided to do some digging.

And what I found surprised me.

Because the answer is not that somebody in the Middle Ages thought pink was just a happier version of purple.

The answer is not that purple is for repentance and pink is for ‘happy thoughts.’

The real answer is much older— and honestly, much better.

Here’s what I learned:

We all understand that Advent is a season of expectation and longing for the coming King. That’s why originally all the candles were purple—because purple signifies royalty.

But Advent didn’t used to be the warm-and-cozy countdown to Christmas that we make it today. In the first few centuries of the Church, Advent was actually a lot more like Lent. It was a time of fasting, repentance, and self-examination.

And purple works for that too, because purple is the traditional liturgical color for repentance.

But at some point, the Church decided that there needed to be a break in the fasting. We were still waiting, still anticipating, still longing, still preparing, still repenting…

But someone—I’m convinced it had to have been a children’s minister—remembered the verse from Psalm 30 that says:

“Weeping may tarry for the night,

but joy comes with the morning.”

And maybe—this is just holy imagination, but I like to picture it—maybe that medieval children’s minister was walking to church on the third Sunday of Advent. And maybe the sun hadn’t quite risen yet. But in the eastern sky the darkness had begun to give way, and the horizon glowed with that soft rose-colored light.

The deep purple of night was warming into shades of pink.

And maybe that children’s minister—who, by the way, painted her office pink her first week on the job—got to church and said to the pastor:

“Hey boss, what if we switch to a pink candle, just for this week?”

Okay… maybe it didn’t happen exactly like that.

But we do know this: at some point the Church began calling the third Sunday of Advent Gaudete Sunday, from the Latin word for “Rejoice.” That’s gow-DAY-tay, not ‘gow-debt,’ as your pastor almost preached to you this morning (Thanks, ChatGPT!)

It was the day when joy was allowed to break into the fast.

The day when purple shifted toward rose.

The day when the morning light touched the night sky.

The early Church said,

“We’re going to rejoice now—

even though the story isn’t finished yet.

Even though the waiting is not over.

Even though the Messiah has not yet appeared.”

And over time, that tradition became the pink candle on the Advent wreath.

The pink candle isn’t joyful because the waiting is over.

The pink candle is joyful because God meets us in the waiting.

And that brings us straight to the Christmas story itself.

You see God doesn’t wait for perfect circumstances to bring joy. He promises joy into lives that are still messy, still uncertain, still very much in process.

Joy is promised.

Joy is delayed.

And then—when God keeps His promise—

joy erupts.

So let’s look at how this plays out in the first Christmas.

1. Joy Promised

Let’s start with Zechariah. You may or may not know that there are actually two new dads in the Christmas story. There’s Joseph, who we’ll get to in a minute, but then there’s the other new dad on the playground, Zechariah.

Luke tells us that in the days of Herod there was an old couple living in Judea named Zechariah and Elizabeth. Long ago, they had given up on the idea they would ever have children. Elizabeth was unable to conceive, and now they were both advanced in years.