If Bible-reading habits are any indication, many Christians are struggling with anxiety this year. Top Scripture search engines showed that one of the most popular passages of 2024 was Philippians 4, and especially verse 6: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.”

Yet just two verses earlier, Paul issues another command—one so important he felt it worth repeating: “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!” (v. 4).

It seems joy, not just the absence of anxiety, is essential to experiencing God’s peace amid life’s challenges. Both Scripture and science prove the power of rejoicing, even, and perhaps especially, when we don’t feel like it. Thankfully, the highs and lows of the holiday season provide us with ample opportunity to do just that.

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Isaiah, the wise Israelite prophet, recognizes that his people have been in anguish, darkness, and gloom—but he reminds them that this condition is not God’s forever-plan for them. He paints a picture of what is to come:

You have enlarged the nation
    and increased their joy;
they rejoice before you
    as people rejoice at the harvest. (Isa. 9:3)

Imagine this, Isaiah seems to say, God increases the people’s joy, and in turn they rejoice, just like the experience of joy at a good harvest. He emphasizes harvest time, where God’s people are celebrating together, singing and dancing in the streets, feasting and sharing their bounty with neighbors, all lifting their voices and instruments in praise to God for his provision.

The order of joy and rejoice in this verse highlights a cyclical pattern, where each prompts the other—joy, rejoice, joy, rejoice. Joy is often a felt emotion—it can feel like a burst of lightness, a well of exuberance, or a lingering hum of contentment—while rejoicing, as the word itself implies, is a responsive action. To re-joice is to respond to joy.

This cyclical relationship is also supported by science. Andi Thacker, a Licensed Professional Counselor and professor at Dallas Theological Seminary, explained in an interview that the way joy and rejoicing participate with one another can be seen as part of a neurological feedback loop.

In the mental health profession, the term feedback loop explains how thoughts, emotions, and behaviors influence each other in a continuous cycle. Without our knowing, one element reinforces the other, contributing to either a positive change or the persistence of negative patterns. “In a feedback loop,” Thacker said, “a well-worn neurological rut is dug. A habit is formed.”

We might recognize this when we feel frustrated about something, so we complain about it. That complaint gives our brain a tiny temporary reward. It felt nice to vent for a moment, yes? But the irritation still exists, and it fuels further grumbling. Frustration, grumble, frustration, grumble. The cycle creates grooves in our brain—a grumbling habit of frustration—that we find ourselves slipping into time and time again.

But the loop we see in the words of Isaiah 9:3 is the opposite. It’s positive. When we feel joy, we respond with grateful rejoicing. When repeated over and over, the cycle carves a well-worn path in the brain that leads to joy. And whenever the cycle of joy is repeated more often than the spiral of frustration, the brain will find it the easiest, most familiar path to take.

Responding to joy with action can lead to embodied cognition—which explains how our physical bodies and sensory experiences influence our emotions and perceptions of the world. Warren Brown, UCLA Brain Research Institute scholar, writes, “Our thoughts, ideas, beliefs, memories, etc. are grounded in our bodily existence.” For good or bad, and whether we realize it or not, our bodies affect our emotions.

We see this in the Bible too. From the Old Testament to the New, the way God’s people rejoiced was often expressed in physical acts.

When God rescued the Israelites from Pharoah’s horsemen and chariots, the prophet Miriam took timbrel in hand and began to dance and sing, giving thanks to God (Ex. 15:19–21). In Deuteronomy, Moses told the Israelites to seek the dwelling place of the Lord, to give offerings, and to eat as their act of rejoicing in God’s presence (12:4–7). After rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem, Nehemiah planned a ceremony to rejoice, where choirs sang and people offered great sacrifices (Neh. 12:40–43).

The angel who foretold the birth of John the Baptist said that many would rejoice at John’s birth—a prophesy that was fulfilled starting with John’s own father, whose “mouth was opened and his tongue set free, and he began to speak, praising God.” (Luke 1:14, 64). And when the Magi, overjoyed, found the infant Jesus with his mother, Mary, “they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh” (Matt. 2:10–11).

For God’s people, rejoicing has almost always been accompanied by physical actions. God’s people have danced and made music, shouted and serenaded, or spoken words of adoration. Some have feasted and given gifts. Others have bent low to worship.

But what about when it seems there’s nothing for us to celebrate? What do we do when the joy of the Lord feels elusive—when our vision for the future isn’t panning out the way we anticipated, when we’re burdened with financial, professional, or personal anxieties—or when our family or culture expects us to be cheerful and jingle-y, but all we feel is weight and sorrow? What good is a cycle of joy and rejoicing if there is no way to manufacture the joy that causes it to start spinning?

We’ve already discussed the first way to join the cycle—to feel that fresh spark of joy from an outside prompt and then respond with rejoicing, like Isaiah’s vision of Israel at harvest time. And sure, we can always pray for God to restore to us the joy of his salvation (Ps. 51:12). But what if that spark seems unavailable to us?

Embodied cognition tells us we do not need to wait for an emotion—we can enter the feedback loop with physical behaviors alone. What does it look like to engage in the bodily action of rejoicing before feeling any joy? It can be as simple as an unprompted smile, a childlike cartwheel, or a private dance party. It can be a prayer of preemptive gratitude, a spontaneous feast with friends, a high-five with a stranger. It can sound like a hearty laugh or a peaceful sigh. In another CT article, gratitude experts Peter Hill and Robert Emmons suggest putting pen to paper or worshiping aloud.

Our bodies, words, and actions are more than simply passive reflections of our emotions; they are active participants in how those emotions are shaped. These physical movements and actions can prompt our brains to align with our bodies—to generate joy by behaving joyfully. And the cycle spins as evenly as before but with a new starting point: rejoice, joy, rejoice, joy.

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This second route to joy is demonstrated in the prayer of another Old Testament prophet, Habakkuk. In response to his question-and-answer session with God about injustice in the world, Habakkuk declares that he will enter the cycle of joy and rejoicing—even when his circumstances call for lament:

Though the fig tree does not bud
    and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
    and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
    and no cattle in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
    I will be joyful in God my Savior. (Hab. 3:17–18)

Like the harvesters celebrating in Isaiah 9:3, Habakkuk sets his words and body to rejoicing. But he does so even when no fruit has been produced, and no bounty is promised. The prophet is sure that from this action he will still reap joyfulness (Hab. 3:18). And just like Habakkuk, Thacker says, “rejoicing won’t change the truth about life, but it will change our ability to handle it.”

Many of us are drudging through this holiday season with a sense of dread, burdened by the increased tension and weight of division between family members, friends, neighbors, and church members. Our bodies are primed toward grumbling, as our bones have grown stiff from the lack of reasons to rejoice.

But whether our life circumstances are what we might wish them to be, joy is available to us. We can actively choose to cultivate it. Even without a praiseworthy event or emotion, we as God’s people can always embody joy out of a childlike faith that our God is good, holy, and just. And our brains will eventually align with our bodies when we mimic the rejoicing of God’s people who have come before us.

When Paul and Silas were stripped of their clothing, beaten, and imprisoned, they sang a celebratory song and rejoiced, even while their feet were clasped in chains (Acts 16:25). It is this very context which informs the conclusive message of this year’s most popular passage for anxious Bible readers, in which the apostle Paul writes, “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want” (Phil. 4:11–12).

To live out the gospel is to participate in this cycle of joy and re-joy and to jump in at any point. For those who are abuzz with holiday spirit, let us teach our brains the right response of joyful gratitude to the giver of all good things. And for those who are feeling the heaviness or frustration of the season, let us position our bodies in the posture of rejoicing. Let our mouths form the words of gratefulness. Let our cheeks rise into the shape of a smile. Let our feet stomp to a beat and our hands clap in celebration.

Why? Because there is one ultimate reason for us all to rejoice no matter what, which Isaiah himself explains later in the same chapter we began with: unto us a child is born. To us—the ones who once lived in darkness—a Son is given. The government of the kingdom rests entirely upon his shoulders. He is called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. And of the greatness of his peace there will be no end (Isa. 9:6–7).

Because of Jesus and his coming at the perfect time, now is a good time for this weary world to start rejoicing.

Shena Ashcraft is a ThM student at Dallas Theological Seminary and a teacher at her local church in Ohio.

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