Jumping for Joy
DATE: December 13, 2009
SCRIPTURE: Philippians 4:4-7
A couple of years ago a friend gave me a bright red afghan that has the word JOY printed on it in very large letters. It is also covered with a long list of affirmations: "My life is filled with joy and happiness," reads one. Another says, "I celebrate every day." Yet another proclaims, "Life is so good." And a fourth declares, "I attract miracles daily."
I have it spread across the back of the couch in my study, and so I see it with great regularity. It is a cheery reminder of the importance of joy—yet for all its good words, it doesn't really define joy. And more than that, it doesn't really say what one needs to do to discover joy!
One could look at the afghan and assume that repeating the affirmations will bring one joy. You know, the power of positive thinking. Think joy, say joy—and you'll have joy. I am reminded of Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, closing her eyes and saying, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home," hoping to be magically transported back to Kansas! But the mere repetition of words wasn't enough to get her back to Auntie Em's. She also had to click her ruby red slippers together and work their magic. So it is with joy—it's not just about saying the right words. It's not simply a matter of repeating the right affirmations! I could recite the words on my afghan all day long, every day of the week, and that wouldn't make me joyful—hoarse, maybe—but not joyful!
So what is joy—and how do we discover it? How do we incorporate it into our lives?
Many have attempted to define it. Some have seen it as being the same as happiness. But happiness, while a lovely thing in and of itself, is quite different. Happiness depends on people and things external to ourselves. I'm happy when my wife gives me a kiss and says, "I love you." I'm happy when I eat slice of pepperoni pizza. I'm happy when the Red Sox win. But if Linda ignores me, if I drop my pizza, if the Red Sox trade away Mike Lowell, my happiness can slip away more quickly than sunlight on a cold winter's afternoon. Happiness is fleeting—joy is not. As Benjamin Franklin once said, "Joy is not in things, it is in us." Joy is lasting. Joy survives the vagaries and vicissitudes of life. For joy is rooted in the love of God. It is rooted in doing the will of God.
Earlier this fall we conducted a poll to ascertain the congregation's favorite hymns. People were given the opportunity to name up to three hymns they considered favorites. The second most frequently named hymn was "Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee." I mention it, because the first verse holds the answer to our question about how we can discover joy.
Joyful joyful we adore thee, God of glory Lord of love;
Hearts unfold like flowers before thee, opening to the sun above.
Melt the clouds of sin and sadness, drive our fear and doubt away;
Giver of immortal gladness, fill us with the light of day.
When we are willing to surrender ourselves to God's love, when we open our hearts to the Holy One even as flowers open to the sun, then we know true joy. Then we know immortal gladness! "Joy," writes Henri Nouwen, "is the experience of knowing that you are unconditionally loved and that nothing—sickness, failure, emotional distress, oppression, war, or even death—can take that love away." (Here and Now, 26)
During the Advent and Christmas seasons we are continually reminded of the relationship between surrender and joy. Mary is at first afraid when the angel appears to her and tells her the news that she is going to bear a son who is destined to be the Messiah. And no wonder! Being pregnant out-of-wedlock meant that she was in a most precarious position. Yet, she agrees to the plan, and ultimately, exhibits great joy and sees God's action as a sign of God's love. Joseph is furious when he hears about it, but then, he too surrenders to the will of God, and moves through the challenges such a pregnancy must have entailed, with a great measure of joy filled calm. The shepherds see angels, hear their song, and are so joyous that they practically dance into Bethlehem—despite the fact that their story and their actions might well have made them appear to be crazy to their neighbors! The magi trudge across the desert in search of a newborn child, and are filled with joy when they finally find him, for they are assured of God's love for all, even the Gentiles.
Not only is one of our favorite hymns "Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee," one of our favorite Christmas carols is "Joy to the World!" And no wonder—for the nativity stories are suffused with joy! Time and again, women and men surrender to God's will, time and again, they come to know that eternal, unconditional love, time and again, they are filled with joy.
Our scripture lesson from Paul's letter to the church at Philippi is a wonderful, calming passage. It reminds us of the peace that comes in knowing God. It also tells us of joy. "Rejoice in the Lord always," Paul boldly proclaims. Always. No matter what the circumstances. If your spouse is angry, if you drop your pizza, if your ball team blows it, rejoice in the Lord! If society rejects you, if your family abandons you, if you're stuck far from home, rejoice in the Lord! In sickness, in sorrow, in times of failure and doubt, rejoice in the Lord! Always! Make no mistake. This isn't some new age sort of admonition. This isn't yet one more affirmation designed to make you feel good. Paul isn't saying, a la Bobby McFerrin, "Don't worry, be happy!" Paul knows full well that happiness may not endure. This is a man who was flogged, beaten, imprisoned, chased out of town, shipwrecked, permanently disabled and hated by many. He's not talking about happiness—he's talking about joy. That deep seated confidence and peace that comes from knowing God's love is ours for the asking and ours for the keeping.
You see, in the end, joy is about far more than affirmations or afghans. It's about more than health or romance or of family or material possessions. It is, in fact all about surrendering our lives to the blanketing will and love of God. And knowing that nothing, nothing at all, can take that away. That my friends, that is joy.
Amen.
John H. Danner