Resolute Joy
I typically know better than to make any new year's resolutions. I know myself too well by now to fool myself into thinking that a new calendar year is going to inspire me to make any changes that last beyond a couple of weeks, at most. But this year I do have in mind a resolution for something that is much harder to define than a diet or exercise plan. My resolution for 2020 is to experience joy as often as possible.
"Joy" isn't exactly the same as "happiness" or "pleasure". While doing a bit of research on what exactly the difference is, the consensus generally is that joy is something much deeper and more resonant than a fleeting moment of happiness. It's more like a state of mind that one has to cultivate, like mindfulness, rather than simply reacting to a pleasurable stimuli. (Great, I think, one more habit I have to cultivate. Can't anything be easy and quick?)
A couple years ago, I read a book by C.S. Lewis called Surprised by Joy, which is a semi-autobiographical account of his conversion to Christianity. He talks a lot about Joy, obviously, and he has a very particular take on what joy means. Joy is something that taps into the infinite, into a longing deep within the soul:
"In a sense the central story of my life is about nothing else... The quality common to the three experiences... is that of an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction. I call it Joy, which is here a technical term and must be sharply distinguished both from Happiness and Pleasure. Joy (in my sense) has indeed one characteristic, and one only, in common with them; the fact that anyone who has experienced it will want it again... I doubt whether anyone who has tasted it would ever, if both were in his power, exchange it for all the pleasures in the world. But then Joy is never in our power and Pleasure often is."
"Joy is never in our power and Pleasure often is." If this is true, then we can't force joy. We can only be given joy - like faith, hope or grace - as a free gift from God. If this is true, then in order to be ready for such a gift we have to have open eyes and open hearts.
We aren't even two weeks into 2020 and there's already been things happening in our world that make me NOT want to go through it with an open heart. I'm more likely to want to curl up into a ball under a blanket and ignore the scary world, completely closed off from all threats. But here's the thing: I'm called to be brave and not do that. I went through 2019 discerning with the church whether I am called to ordained ministry, and so far the church is affirming that call. But one thing that I have heard on more than one occasion during this process is that I need to be more open to experiencing joy. That can be hard to do when one deals with depression and anxiety. Or when one has gotten used to life constantly throwing obstacles in one's way, just when things seem to be going well. If you're constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, it's really hard to be open to joy.
Funnily enough, because I am so likely to wait for "the catch" whenever something good happens, I find it kind of comforting that joy is a gift rather than something I need to work for. To keep myself open and observant is work, of course, but realizing that something wonderful has just happened for no other reason except that God wanted you to have a gift brings about an overwhelming gratitude.
"Shut your mouth; open your eyes and ears. Take in what is there and give no thought to what might have been there or what is somewhere else. That can come later, if it must come at all. (And notice here how the true training for anything whatever that is good always prefigures and, if submitted to, will always help us in, the true training for the Christian life)"
Cultivating joy, therefore, is something that can help a person grow in their faith. When I think about what it would take to make a habit of joy, to live a life that is open rather than shut up in fear, I think about this quote from Ephesians:
We must no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people's trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming. But speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and knit together by every ligament with which it is equipped, as each part is working properly, promotes the body's growth in building itself up in love. (Ephesians 4:14-16)
To have a mature faith means, in part, to not be easily "blown about" by the changes and chances of this life, but to rest in God's "eternal changelessness" (BCP 133). And, being joined with members of our community who make up "the body" and help us to be built up in love.
When I was a teenager, I remember vividly moments of joy like the ones C.S. Lewis describes. Some of the most memorable ones involved road trips with my family in the summer, listening to my favorite albums like McCartney, allowing the music to transport me up into the clouds passing by my window and feeling that sense of brushing close to something infinite. It was a longing "so intense for something so good and so high up it could not be explained with words." (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Surprised_by_Joy)
Those little "stabs of joy" are a way of remembering just what being in the presence of God is like. They're little tastes of Heaven. Maybe you experience these feelings when listening to music, or looking at a beautiful piece of art, or being in nature. Hopefully you have people in your life that make you feel this way when you are with them. Whatever it is that can bring those feelings of joy, do more of that this year. I'm going to try my best to do so, to remember that God is always waiting to give me (and you) a gift, if we are only open to receive it.
"Joy" isn't exactly the same as "happiness" or "pleasure". While doing a bit of research on what exactly the difference is, the consensus generally is that joy is something much deeper and more resonant than a fleeting moment of happiness. It's more like a state of mind that one has to cultivate, like mindfulness, rather than simply reacting to a pleasurable stimuli. (Great, I think, one more habit I have to cultivate. Can't anything be easy and quick?)
A couple years ago, I read a book by C.S. Lewis called Surprised by Joy, which is a semi-autobiographical account of his conversion to Christianity. He talks a lot about Joy, obviously, and he has a very particular take on what joy means. Joy is something that taps into the infinite, into a longing deep within the soul:
"In a sense the central story of my life is about nothing else... The quality common to the three experiences... is that of an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction. I call it Joy, which is here a technical term and must be sharply distinguished both from Happiness and Pleasure. Joy (in my sense) has indeed one characteristic, and one only, in common with them; the fact that anyone who has experienced it will want it again... I doubt whether anyone who has tasted it would ever, if both were in his power, exchange it for all the pleasures in the world. But then Joy is never in our power and Pleasure often is."
"Joy is never in our power and Pleasure often is." If this is true, then we can't force joy. We can only be given joy - like faith, hope or grace - as a free gift from God. If this is true, then in order to be ready for such a gift we have to have open eyes and open hearts.
We aren't even two weeks into 2020 and there's already been things happening in our world that make me NOT want to go through it with an open heart. I'm more likely to want to curl up into a ball under a blanket and ignore the scary world, completely closed off from all threats. But here's the thing: I'm called to be brave and not do that. I went through 2019 discerning with the church whether I am called to ordained ministry, and so far the church is affirming that call. But one thing that I have heard on more than one occasion during this process is that I need to be more open to experiencing joy. That can be hard to do when one deals with depression and anxiety. Or when one has gotten used to life constantly throwing obstacles in one's way, just when things seem to be going well. If you're constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, it's really hard to be open to joy.
Funnily enough, because I am so likely to wait for "the catch" whenever something good happens, I find it kind of comforting that joy is a gift rather than something I need to work for. To keep myself open and observant is work, of course, but realizing that something wonderful has just happened for no other reason except that God wanted you to have a gift brings about an overwhelming gratitude.
"Shut your mouth; open your eyes and ears. Take in what is there and give no thought to what might have been there or what is somewhere else. That can come later, if it must come at all. (And notice here how the true training for anything whatever that is good always prefigures and, if submitted to, will always help us in, the true training for the Christian life)"
Cultivating joy, therefore, is something that can help a person grow in their faith. When I think about what it would take to make a habit of joy, to live a life that is open rather than shut up in fear, I think about this quote from Ephesians:
We must no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people's trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming. But speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and knit together by every ligament with which it is equipped, as each part is working properly, promotes the body's growth in building itself up in love. (Ephesians 4:14-16)
To have a mature faith means, in part, to not be easily "blown about" by the changes and chances of this life, but to rest in God's "eternal changelessness" (BCP 133). And, being joined with members of our community who make up "the body" and help us to be built up in love.
McCartney album cover, 1970
When I was a teenager, I remember vividly moments of joy like the ones C.S. Lewis describes. Some of the most memorable ones involved road trips with my family in the summer, listening to my favorite albums like McCartney, allowing the music to transport me up into the clouds passing by my window and feeling that sense of brushing close to something infinite. It was a longing "so intense for something so good and so high up it could not be explained with words." (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Surprised_by_Joy)
Those little "stabs of joy" are a way of remembering just what being in the presence of God is like. They're little tastes of Heaven. Maybe you experience these feelings when listening to music, or looking at a beautiful piece of art, or being in nature. Hopefully you have people in your life that make you feel this way when you are with them. Whatever it is that can bring those feelings of joy, do more of that this year. I'm going to try my best to do so, to remember that God is always waiting to give me (and you) a gift, if we are only open to receive it.
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