The Urgency of Joy

The phrase has captivated my imagination for some time now, as I seek joy in the midst of a world crying out in pain. In a nation of mass shootings and executions, in a world devastated by war crimes and the crime of war, where working for peace means learning the depths and pervasiveness of violence, despair threatens to seep in through the air I breathe. Hope often evades my grasp, and fear like a weight drags down my every movement.

But when I find myself in a morass of bitterness, my soul gets a jolt of energy from my laughing toddler, or the accidentally insightful comment from my precocious 6-year-old, or the warm hand of my husband on my shoulder. I savor the comfort of these gestures and let them lift me out of my cynicism. And as the tears clouding my vision disperse, I remind myself that joy, too, permeates the world and can be found by those with eyes to see it.

I am training my eyes and mind and heart to find this joy, and it is not always easy. But it is essential. Because these moments of joy are windows of light streaming into a suffocating world, revealing the truth of God’s reign beyond the walls of violence we have built up around ourselves. Glimpses of this great truth enfolding us all keep me striving, or at least enduring, for the time when the peace that surpasses all understanding will be consummated.

Knowing that all of creation was made by love, in love, and for love grounds and uplifts me. Knowing that love became flesh in a world of danger and cruelty and carved joy out of pain keeps hope from slipping completely from my grasp. But the world remained a dangerous, cruel place for the generation that saw the resurrection, and it certainly remains so today. Jesus came to a world that rejected him and brought joy to those the world rejected by enfolding them in his love. The shunned, the lonely, the victims of economic and military violence, the suffering, the broken – these were the ones to whom Jesus ministered the good news that they, too, were cherished. He held them in their pain. But he did not immediately transform the dangerous world in which they lived, except to release the gradual cure of forgiveness into the atmosphere and model a life of humble compassion for others to follow. The early Christians held onto the joy of finding themselves embraced in love even as the surrounding world maintained hostility and violence against them. Jesus brought joy to the world not by transforming it into a paradise, but by befriending the broken and broken-hearted.

I know, then, that I am called, as a member of the body of Christ, to reach out in compassion to the suffering in the world today, to spread joy by embodying the love I am continually discovering in Jesus. Followers of Jesus are called to walk where Jesus would walk and love whom Jesus loves – everyone, but especially those who are somehow shunned by the world. So as my heart and my thoughts go out to the suffering in my own hometown and across the globe, I try not to let grief extinguish the joy that I must carry with me to a hurting world. Indeed, I know that sorrow is but the shadow of joy, for sorrow born of compassion is an expression of love that will turn to joy when the God who loves us all draws us in and wipes the tears from our eyes.

But I am in need of that joy myself, of centering myself in the source of that joy. It is all too easy for sorrow to choke out hope and become despair, and for despair to become resignation. I know that following Jesus allows for a wide range of human emotion, but it also calls for vigilance against despair and apathy. Yet with all the horrors of the world, the task of co-suffering with the vulnerable but remaining grounded in the joy of Christ is often overwhelming.

I find joy when I open myself to the presence of people grounded in joy. They need not always be cheerful. But they radiate a security in the knowledge that of all the forces in this world, love is the most powerful and the most permanent. I find joy in my toddler, who knows I love her and runs to me with pure delight in her eyes. It is in the eyes of my 6-year-old, elated when I finally put my work aside to spend half an hour of uninterrupted playtime with her. Joy embraces me in the quiet gentleness of my husband, who knows when to make me laugh and when to simply listen to my concerns and fears. I find joy in genuine friends, in the moments when authentic connections are made. Joy surprises me in the unexpected kindness of strangers. If I lose myself in the sorrows or even the distractions of the world, I shut myself off from God’s image-bearers right in front of me, and thus shut myself off from the joy of God’s love reflected in the people by whose presence I am blessed.

I must open myself to this joy if I am to reflect it to others as I am called. Because we are designed to be in relationship, we cannot give the joy that we do not receive. We are God’s vessels for multiplying the joy born in the ever mutually flowing love of the Trinity. With this joy we are called not to escape but to bear the pain of a suffering world. It is a daunting challenge we can endure only with eyes to see the good works of a loving God shining through a fearful, frightening world.

Times of tremendous suffering shake my faith to the core. Lord, I struggle to believe; help my unbelief, that I may reflect glimpses of the joy of your eternal reign to a world in urgent need.