The Joy in the Mess

A few years ago, two of my older brothers wanted to write two philosophy books. The first was going to be called “The Origin of Pieces,” and the second was going to be called “The Joyful Stoic.” The first I could understand. But the second seemed impossible. How could a stoic, one who suffered without complaint, ever be joyful?

Hold this thought in your mind. I’ll come back to it again.

It’s been three weeks since I returned to Virginia. Two weeks since I went through a break up, and the semester started. One week since I started thinking about how I wanted to write this post. I wrote a lot last Saturday, and then realized that I hadn’t finished answering the question I set out to find. What is joy?

A friend of mine and I were recently talking about life and how God calls certain people to certain things. As a very jocular and outgoing sort of person, he commented that, even though it seemed like I was called to great things, I always seemed like I had the weight of the world weighing on my shoulders. “In your prayer life,” he questioned me, “Do you ever focus on the joy of the Lord?”

I told him that yes, I did, occasionally. He encouraged me to think about it more, and the conversation drifted to other things. A week later, I was still thinking heavily about it, and I began to write what you’re currently reading.

What is joy?

The following day, I talked with God about it, and was reminded of how much we’ve been saved from. I listened to a song that helped me incredibly last semester, Redeemed, by Influence Music. I’ve shared it before, but the chorus is worth sharing again.

“Believe me ’cause I would know
I was that wounded one
I was that prodigal
I was that wayward son
How did I even live
Before I knew life above
What a beautiful life it is
I was redeemed by love”

What a mystery it is, that we are redeemed by love. Only one person had enough love to give us everything, in order that we would be redeemed. That – that is cause for joy.

But back to the first problem. Why do I act like I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders? First, a defense. I could say it depends on who I’m around. When I’m having a deep, theological or philosophical discussion, I’ll usually become more sober and serious. Adding to that having worked nearly 41 hours the week previous, a week that ended in breaking up, as well it being later in the night, I could also say that I felt the weight of life even more keenly.

I could say all of that. But it is just as honest to say that my character and personality is more melancholic than my friend. I do not outwardly express the joy in my soul in the way that he does. Does that make me any more or less joyful?

All week, I came back to this idea of The Joyful Stoic. Not the disbanding of our passions and our loves, as Zeno taught, but the detachment of our emotions. How can someone be a Stoic, and not be filled with the bubbling emotion so often associated with Joy, yet still be consider Joyful?

Two passages came to mind during the week. The first was Nehemiah 8:10,”And Nehemiah continued, “Go and celebrate with a feast of rich foods and sweet drinks, and share gifts of food with people who have nothing prepared. This is a sacred day before our Lord. Don’t be dejected and sad, for the joy of the Lord is your strength!””

The second was Hebrews 12:2, “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him, endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”

Both of those carry the idea of “Joy,” and yet both express it very differently. The first is full of excitement and happiness. The Lord has provided, and there is joy and rejoicing! Go, feast! Celebrate!

The second is harder to understand. Jesus was tortured, killed on a cross, and for what? Yes, he rose again, but it says it’s done for the joy set before him. I can assure you that there was no outward expression of joy on his faith when he hung bleeding on the cross.

And that’s where I was when I first started writing this. I felt like I was right on the verge of understanding joy and how it could be applied to my life, but it was just out of reach. So at the insistence of another friend, I finally went to my brothers and asked them, what was the point of the Joyful Stoic?

Life is hard, they told me, and full of pain. But it is equally full of joy. One of them mentioned John 15:9-11, which talks about remaining in Jesus, just like branches remain in the vine. This, verse 11 says, is “so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.”

After a short back and forth on the subject, my other brother summed it up this way. “Joy is a fruit of the Spirit, but it’s also a choice. Joy is a feeling, but it’s also an action. Joy is contentment that only comes on fulfillment of purpose.”

The final piece came into place when I talked with that first friend, who started the entire question. “So, what is your purpose?” He directed me to the Shema, Deuteronomy 6:4-5. “Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.”

That, the first and greatest command, my friend posited, is the purpose we need to fulfill. If we are doing that, then we will have joy.

Joy.

What an odd word, especially in light of my last post, Drudging out of 2019. Yes, I ended with a reminder to myself that God is my ever-present peace and rest, but overall, it was a rather depressing look at the New Year.

I’m loathe to retract those thoughts, because I still hold to them. But there’s more to it than just drudgery.

Last Friday, we actually interpreted for the first time. Voice to sign was tough, but then we had to do sign to voice, and that was even worse. In our powwow, our professor took a look at our discouraged faces and told us that we were going to make it. We had just put our hands on the ladder of skill development, and at the end of the program, we were supposed to be as near to the top as possible.

Most of us looked at the ladder, stretching into the sky, and began to worry if we were going to make it. I looked where I needed to go and started laughing. That goal, all the way at the top, is going to be hard work. A lot of dull, tedious, drudgery is going to happen from now until October in order to bring my skills to where I can pass the Virginia exam. There are going to be points where I’ll wonder if I even know what English is. In short, it’s going to be messy. And yet, I laughed at it.

My professor gave me a funny look, which I’m guessing might be a common experience throughout these next semester. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but it was something along the lines of, “I can’t wait to get into that.” I can’t wait to put my skills to the grindstone and sharpen them. I can’t wait to look at a product that’s worth about a round $0.00 and figure out how I can do it better. Why? Because this is my purpose.

There is a desire that I cannot explain, pulling at my chest, telling me to leave this computer and return to the language lab to work on my skills. There is a passion to excel – not so I can be filled with pride, but I can be the best I possibly can. It’s as if I’m being told to drop everything and chase after that dream.

This desire of devotion comes from a love of interpreting. Because of it, I can have joy in the mess. I can cry in the low points of this journey, and I can exult in the high. But consistent is that contentment and fulfillment in this purpose.

In the same way, in life, we can drudge. We can stand and weep as the rain pours down, unsure of why it refuses to stop. We can find ourselves barely able to put one foot in front of the other. And yet, at the same time, we can have joy, because we know that we are exactly in the place that God wants us. Joy does not require us to be smiling. Joy does not require us even to be happy. Joy is looking ahead to the promise and hope of Heaven, and knowing that, even now, God holds us.

My joy might not look like my friend’s. But it is the same joy, given by the same Lord, and held for the same purpose.

This joy is promised to us as believers. It’s a feeling, but it’s also an action. It’s a fruit of the Spirit, but it’s also a choice. Joy is contentment that only comes on fulfillment of God’s purpose for our lives.

The final question to be asked, then, is this: Do you have joy?