Joy….where?

There is an old children’s song that goes, “I’ve got that joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart.  Where?  Down in my heart.  Where?  Down in my heart…”  As a kid I sang it with gusto!  But I didn’t really understand what I was singing.  On the surface I did, maybe, but not really.  I had no idea then that someday I wouldn’t get excited about going camping because I would instead be too worn out from all the work involved, or that someday I would no longer be able to fit into that space under the stairs where I used to curl up and read for hours, or that I wouldn’t be able to sit in one position that long anymore, or that I would lose the ability to forget about all the work that needed doing and get lost in a story.  I grew up.  Life changed.  And the terms on which joy is found became more complicated.

Now when I read Galatians 5:22 as I did this morning and I read through the list of the fruits of the Spirit, I pause momentarily on the word “joy” because I have to admit to myself and God that this is the one on the list that most eludes me.  If you are reading this and thinking to yourself, Girl you have issues, well, yes, I know I do and this is one of them.  Where has my joy gone?  I know I can’t just go on without it.  After all, Paul tells the Philippians to rejoice, and again, he says, rejoice! (Phil. 4:4)  And he tells the Thessalonians to have joy ALWAYS (1 Thess 5:16).  Joy is clearly supposed to be part of the picture for us.  And yet it’s so often absent.  It’s not one of our great American values, after all.  We’re supposed to work hard, and work hard some more, and keep working harder, right?

One of the great revelations of my adult Christian life was the discovery of the first question of the Westminster Catechism.  I was hunting for purpose, asking God, “What am I supposed to do?”  I was hoping for the key to a more fulfilling career, and clearer direction in my job search.  I was terribly frustrated by the sort of answers I was getting from friends and pastors—you know, the love-God-love-people kind of answers.  During this time of searching, I was asking God these questions as I drove home from work one day and heard in response a voice that I cannot describe but was most assuredly God saying, “Love me.”  Whoa!  Yes!  Ok, God, thanks.  Um….how am I supposed to do that?  Around this same time I found a blog that talked about “man’s chief end.”  This is question #1 of Westminster—“What is the chief end of man?”  And the answer is, “To glorify God and enjoy him forever.”  There’s that word “joy” again.

I figured out the career path in bits and pieces along the way and eventually ended up in seminary where it didn’t take me long to learn a trick--if you don’t know the specific answer to something, you can often still get it right if you answer with the first article of the Westminster Catechism, especially if the question was about why we do some particular thing.  The safe answer was always some variation of “To glorify God and enjoy him forever.”  It’s not surprising that the “Westminster Divines” put this right up front.  This is, when you get right down to it, the overriding theme of the Bible.  It’s also the overriding theme of our PCUSA Directory for Worship.  And it’s the theme of our lives as Christians, and of our worship each Sunday morning.  It’s one of the reasons I love the Chris Tomlin song that says “You and I were made to worship...”

One of the places that I have found joy is in worship.  I grew up taking piano lessons and flute lessons.  I followed my husband around running sound for his bands and dancing by myself behind the sound board.  And one day I got to play keyboard with the worship band at our church and I discovered that I love love love doing this.  And God blessed me incredibly as I played and sang.  I was a small part in a group of very talented people who carried me along, and I relished every deep pocket groove and complex harmony.  The words of the songs were so often the words of my heart and I learned how to connect with God in moments of sheer joy.

After awhile, though, I started to take this for granted.  I expected the joy and forgot to be thankful.  Circumstances changed, as circumstances always do, and there was a long stretch of life with no opportunities to play keyboard and sing.  The next time I got to play again, though, I was in heaven.  I couldn’t stop smiling.  We sang a song about praising God forever and I thought to myself, yes, I want to do this forever!  I want life to be like this always!  But eventually I forgot to be thankful again and took things for granted and circumstances changed.

You’d think by now I’d have this joy thing figured out, wouldn’t you?  But as C.S. Lewis points out in his book Surprised by Joy, you can’t just go looking for the joy and expect to find it.  Joy finds you.  God finds you.  I know in my head that I’m supposed to focus on God, and not the joy, but my heart doesn’t always listen to my head.  Does yours?  Maybe that’s why Jesus tells us to receive the Kingdom of God like a child (Mark 10:15), which takes us back to where I started, back when my heart and head weren’t so disconnected.  That joy joy joy is down in there somewhere.  Paul says God’s love has been poured into our hearts (Rom. 5:5), after all. 

Maybe I understood that song better than I thought I did.

 

(This post was originally published June 12, 2013 on a worship blog)

 

 

Inconceivable

Inconceivable

This is the word that comes to mind this morning as I think about God.  And in my mind it sounds just like this running bit from the movie The Princess Bride:

It also sounds like this verse from Corinthians:

As it is written:  “What no eye has seen, what no ear has heard,
and what no human mind has conceived”—
    the things God has prepared for those who love him— (1 Corinthians 2:9)

Inconceivable.

I think this is why sometimes it seems like a poem or a song speaks better than a sermon, and why sometimes I think the scripture itself speaks more eloquently than my analysis or explanation of it. There is beauty and mystery about God that requires the eloquence of poetry and music, and maybe that's why some of the scriptures in the Bible are poetry and music.

In the same way, actions can also sometimes speak louder than words about the things of God.  Kindness and generosity can make the inconceivable conceivable as they demonstrate love that crosses boundaries and forgiveness that defies expectations.  The greatest example of this is Jesus’ death on the cross that demonstrates God’s love for us in the most dramatic way possible.

Dear children, let’s not merely say that we love each other;

let us show the truth by our actions. (1 John 3:19)

Actions do speak, and music and poetry speak eloquently.  Words sometimes seem so inadequate.  And yet at times nothing but words can make things clear.  There are many ways to say “I love you” but sometimes saying the actual words is necessary to fully convey the meaning behind the actions.   Would we fully understand what happened on the cross without the words of the Bible to explain it?

It seems inconceivable to me sometimes that God can work through the words in the Bible or the words of a sermon or a prayer to touch hearts so deeply, but he does.  Paul explains this in his letter to the Corinthians with these words:

These are the things revealed to us by the Holy Spirit. (1 Corinthians 2:10)

This is why prayer is so vital. 

This is what we speak, not in words taught us by human wisdom but in words taught by the Spirit, explaining spiritual realities with Spirit-taught words. (1 Corinthians 2:13)

The things of God, the beauty and mystery of God, are inconceivable . . . and yet somehow conceivable as the Holy Spirit speaks to us.

May the Spirit speak to you today of the beauty and mystery of God.

Here are two pieces that speak that way to me.  What expresses the beauty and mystery of God for you?

 

Silence

I went to a retreat one weekend at which the theme was Psalm 46:10—“Be still and know that I am God.”*  As you might expect, there was a wealth of discussion about being still.  Many of the usual “still” times and places were tossed out—nature, church, night, etc.  So how was it that while the retreat leader was talking about those still, quiet moments when we encounter God in special ways, I was thinking about how God has met me in the midst of a thick cloud of sound?  Imagine the cacophony of an edgy electric guitar, the smooth saturated thump of a deep bass, the steady snap and pounding of drums.  There’s nothing still or quiet in this scenario.  Except that there is. What’s still is my heart standing in the midst of the rage of melodies in absolute awe of the God who can touch me through all these waves of sound, drawing me body, mind and soul into the wonder of his presence. My fellow retreaters didn't quite resonate with my explanation of my loud God moments, but they did respect their existence.

Maybe the reason for the stark contrast between my God moment memories and the stillness of that nature retreat place is that stillness is a common factor in my daily life right now, but loud music isn't   Maybe the kinetic learner in me resonates with the physicality of loudness.  I like to worship in ways that involve me physically—dancing, playing, singing.  I like to feel the rhythm, follow the melody, and add my harmony.  The louder the better sometimes.  And to stand quietly still and just sing quiet songs sometimes just seems so inadequate by comparison for praising the Almighty Creator of the Universe.  But sometimes quiet songs are ok, too.  Even in a quiet song, like when I’m at the keyboard, I’m pouring out my praise in lulling and singing strings, whirring organ, or ringing bells.  Magic is maybe the wrong word but it’s the best I have for describing what happens when notes collide in just the right way.  My spirit rings out with those notes and I feel lifted up to God.

The reality is that what’s happening in those incredible moments of close encounters with God has very little to do with the volume level of the world around me.  In the starkness of silence, my heart can be screaming.  In the screaming of guitars, my heart can find peace.  Go figure.  Whatever is happening on the outside is tremendously less important than what’s happening on the inside where God is working on our hearts.


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* This was originally posted on the Krabbe worship blog January 2013.  I'm reposting it today because I was reminded of it yesterday.