Serious Joy by Fran Salone-Pelletier

Readings: Zephaniah 3:14-18a; Philippians 4:4-7; Luke 3:10-18

It has often been said that the mark of a Christian is joy. “Rejoice in the Lord always, again I will say, rejoice” (Phil 4:4). Our continuing challenge is to discover the answer to the question, “How can I rejoice?” How can I rejoice in a God whom I do not see when I have such a difficult time rejoicing in the brothers and sisters who are all too visible to me? How can I rejoice in God when I cannot seem to find joy in myself? These are difficult questions to ask, especially in the midst of a season that announces the “joy” of Christmas in a catalog of gifts.

The proliferation of counseling centers, the popularity of self-help books, and the prevalence pop psychology in the media all attest to the fact that joy is not as readily available as we would like to believe. But perhaps we as a culture have the wrong idea about joy.

Too often we interpret goofy grins as joy. We see joy in placid acceptance—without question or discernment—of all that happens to us. Joy is placed on the same level as “putting on a happy face.” Even the dictionary is hard put to define joy. Words like pleasure, happiness, glad feeling, and delight are used to describe it. Matthew Fox defines joy in this way:

Joy is the opposite of ego-control and ego-consciousness. It is, necessarily, the opposite of materialism. . . . Joy is also the opposite of clock-watching, of wondering when this talk or meeting or this line of assembly parts will pass. Joy is the suspension of time, of place, or ego. . . . It is touch, being touched, and being in touch. . . . It is not about anything in particular and is therefore about everything possible and impossible. It is about surprise. Joy is a gift of the Spirit. You can only taste and do it. You can only announce it.

Christian joy is based, founded, and built on the awareness that God, indeed, is in our midst. Christians are people who see, hear, taste, feel the real presence of God everywhere. From the depths of our being we believe in the nearness of God. That faith empowers us to present our needs to God “in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving” (Phil. 4:6).

Wherever we are alive in our Christianity, God is also a living reality. The signs of God are everywhere. Wherever we see unselfish people, there is God. Any time we recognize how needy we really are, there is God awaiting our call for help. In our impoverishment, there is our generous God willing, wanting, to share life with us.

Christian joy is serious stuff. It involves profound prayer and radical reverence for life; it demands meditation and struggle. On Gaudete (“joy”) Sunday, we are called to breathe deeply of this joy. We are asked to cry out with gladness and rejoice in the Lord. Our joy bubbles up and bursts forth from a profound, vital sense of gratitude.

Yet Christian joy is honed in sorrow. It is sharpened by life lived to its fullest. It is found by exploring faith’s path to its very edge. It is the kind of joy that impels us to cry out from a crowded existence and ask, “What are we to do?” This kind of joy does not deny the presence of troubles but affirms the real presence of God within life’s problems and darkness. We look at all that God created and see that it is good—not always comprehensible, but always good.

Joyful people of God are people of peace. Their forgiving spirit exudes confidence. They are humble in truth and truthful in humility. People of joy are not discouraged, discontented, selfish, greedy, or self-righteous. They are full of anticipation, expectance, and wonder over the graciousness of God. Like John the Baptizer, they say, “One who is more powerful than I is coming. I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals” (Luke 3:16).

A person who is filled with the joy of the Lord is one who recognizes all that he or she has received, and then generously gives to one who is in need. A joyful person finds contentment in the seeking and extending of justice. A person of joy is one who has no need of being authoritative or bullying. Matthew Fox writes further:

It is not we who wait for God in Advent, but God who waits for us. God awaits the birth of our ability to give birth to God and to love justice. Such a blessed event happens only when we enter fully into the tastes and trials of ecstasy. Incarnation is not a fleshless event. It happens every time we drink deeply of the cosmic grace that is everywhere in our lives.

Incarnation happens when we drink deeply of life’s chalice, when we take radical action, inhaling God’s goodness. Incarnation is no shallow experience. Nor is joy. Christians weep not because something is lost, but because so much has been given to us. Our joy is to be beacons of light for a world wintering in darkness. Joy comes from drinking deeply of life’s chalice. This is serious stuff. ♦

Fran Salone-Pelletier holds a master’s degree in theology. She is the author of a trilogy of scriptural meditations, Awakening to God: The Sunday Readings in Our Lives, in which a version of this reflection originally appeared. She is also a religious educator, retreat leader, lecturer, and grandmother of four. Reach her at hope5@atmc.net.