Joy! Joy? Joy.

A short reflection on joy. It's complicated.

Dec 18, 2023

Hi friends!

We continue with our Advent series, Light in the Darkness: Twenty-two simple practices for cultivating hope, peace, joy & love. Last week our focus was peace, and we engaged in practices such as meditation for inner peace, fasting from social media, using our voices to advocate for others, and getting out in nature. These are good practices that I hope we can carry into the new year.

Day 12: spending time in nature, Day 14: creating peace dove garland

Today begins the third week of Advent: Joy! Joy? Joy. I have a complicated relationship with joy. Let me explain.

I was baptized at 26. I didn’t grow up in the church, so understanding church culture at the beginning took some time. Christianese is a thing – in the evangelical world, there are certain phrases only other believers seem to comprehend.

For me, “Joy of the Lord” was one of those phrases. To be a faithful Christian meant you must have it - this ubiquitous “Joy of the Lord.” I could see it on the faces of others - an overwhelming, outward-facing, always-present happiness. Was it sincere? It seemed to be, though I know full well we all have invisible wounds and struggles - we’re also really good at hiding behind our masks.

I know that now. But back then I often wondered: Why don’t I have this kind of joy? And how do I get it? It made me wonder if I was missing something. Was there something wrong with me? Was I not Christian enough? Of course I now recognize that this thinking was nonsense, but it is an honest reflection of how I felt at the time. These folks appeared to have some kind of secret joy that I couldn’t seem to tap into.

The truth is, I don’t often feel very joyful. At least not in an exuberant, Ned Flanders sort of way. As a self-professed “deep feeler” and empath, the horrors of the world weigh heavy on my soul. How can I feel joy when there is so much suffering? As one prone to anxiety, and cynicism, and bouts of melancholy, I admit that there are many days that I must contend for joy. I search for it like treasure:

✨It’s the feeling when you’re out in the woods, and through the trees the sun shines just right that you have to pause, close your eyes, tilt your face upwards, smile, and receive the light. That’s joy.
✨It’s in the contagious laughter of a baby. Sheer joy.
✨It’s a strong bass groove that has you dancing in the kitchen. More joy.

Other times, joy doesn’t feel so tangible. Sometimes it feels intricately woven in with hope. (Can we call it jope?) Jope is an attitude that we embrace as Christians, not because of happy circumstances but because we hold tight to the promise that God is making all things new - an awareness that the world is not as it should be, and that somehow God will bring order to the chaos.

Jope is a belief I cup gently in my hands and press close to my heart because without it, I’m afraid everything will fall apart. This jope is not idealistic. It does not pretend that the world is all rainbows and butterflies - on the contrary. I carry hope and joy in spite of all that is wrong in the world, a counter-offense I suppose. Some days I cling to it as a mere matter of survival, because how would we make it through this life without jope?

So joy is not simply extreme happiness, though I’ve known that kind of joy, too. It is a belief that somehow, God will reorder this upside-down world. It’s the feeling that even in the midst of hardship, (especially in the midst of hardship) God is with us as He promised. Emmanuel.

I’ve come to believe that this is the real joy of the Lord. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

The Gathering Place

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