The Journey is Joyous

Isaiah 35:1-10

James 5:7-10

Matthew 11:2-11

-As the child who had never before been to a Christmas service said when asked what it was like, "I want some of that `umphant.'" "What's that?" the child was asked. "You know, it's what those people were singing about--`O Come all ye faithful, joyful and try umphant' I'd like to try some of that `umphant.'" John C. Morris

            Advent is a journey.  It is a walking towards.  It is a walking through the desert, through the darkness, through the wilderness.  We do not yet see this new thing that God has planned. We do not yet see where God is coming to us next.  But while we wait, we are invited to be in the waiting, to be present in the journey.  And today, while we celebrate and light the candle of “joy”, we can remember the words from Isaiah, that even the desert shall rejoice.  As we keep our eyes open, we will see that in our journeys, joy is being offered to us, even when our journeys are hard, even when they are challenging.

I remembered a childhood story I once checked out of the library for my kids when they were quite little.  The book was called Captain Underpants and the Revolting Revenge of the Radioactive Robo-Boxers, written by Dav Pilkey.  (New York: Scholastic Inc., 2013).  At one point he wrote about parents and teachers being hard on kids.  And he wrote,

“You have to wonder, why are most grown-ups like this?  Weren’t they ever kids themselves?  Didn’t they enjoy laughing and cheering and goofing around when they were young?  If so, when did they stop?  And why?

Now I certainly can’t speak for all adults, but I’m going to anyway. 

I think it’s a lot easier for adults to stomp out someone else’s fun than it is for them to reflect on their own lives and figure out where it all went so miserably wrong.  It’s just too depressing for grown-ups to ponder all the decades of compromises, failures, laziness, fear, and regrettable choices that slowly transformed them from running, jumping, laughing, fun-loving kids into grumpy, complaining, calorie-counting, easily offended, peace-and-quiet-demanding grouches.

In other words, it’s harder to look within yourself than it is to shout, “HEY YOU KIDS, CUT THAT OUT!”

            There is so much wisdom in this tiny piece of a silly book.  As we talked about last week, healing comes from that willingness to face ourselves.  But joy, and the ability to be in the moment, to be present and open to God’s movement within and around you – that comes from gratitude, and a willingness to see with the eyes of God’s love and grace.

            That is not to make light of any of the pain or struggles that you may be experiencing.  The desert is a dry place, and I know that some of you are experiencing hard times, difficult times.  We can feel like John must have felt in prison – trapped, unjustly waiting doom.  This may not be a happy time.  But again, the words of John, too, give us hope.  From prison, he finds the joy of looking for the Messiah.  In prison he is told that the blind are receiving their sight, the lame are walking, the lepers are being cleansed, the deaf are hearing, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.

            As Frederick Buechner says in his book Wishful Thinking… “In the Gospel of John, Jesus sums up pretty much everything by saying, ‘These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.’  He said it at the supper that he knew was the last one he’d have a mouth to eat.  Happiness turns up more or less where you’d expect it to – a good marriage, a rewarding job, a pleasant vacation.  Joy, on the other hand, is as notoriously unpredictable as the one who bequeaths it.”

            But the promise from Isaiah is right here – joy is to be found in the desert as well as in other unexpected places because Joy comes with God’s coming. Joy comes when we see with God’s eyes.  Joy comes when we glimpse God’s presence.  Joy comes when we have moments of gratitude, for whatever it is: for our very breath.  As Bernard Malamud (new Library of America edition coming out): "Life is a tragedy full of joy."

            So I’d like to ask you to invite you to share with one another some experiences of joy: some places where you have been touched by the holy and where you have seen God.  These are not “happy” things, but moments of joy that I am asking you to ponder and share.

            When our family was in deep crisis, my eldest daughter was particularly suffering.  She and I went for a walk at one point and she just lamented that she no longer understood the purpose of life.  She felt that life was working to live and living to work and in the middle was just hardship and pain and she felt despairing and depressed and sad.  I didn't know how to help her.  But as we walked suddenly this incredibly big, beautiful butterfly flew in front of us and landed right before us on the sidewalk.  Jasmyn's sad, despairing face suddenly burst into full blown joy as she exclaimed, "Mama, look!!  A butterfly!!"  That joy, that gift of presence and beauty, comes at the most unexpected times.

            A month ago I was at a clergy gathering for the Multi-Faith Action Coalition.  As we went around the room introducing ourselves, one of the priests said he had a story he had to tell us.  He has just begun his priesthood at one of the local parishes and he said that in the first week that he was there, there came an evening when he was alone, by himself in the parish office, when he heard an insistent pounding on the door.  At first he ignored it because the parish council had told him that many needy people were constantly coming to the door asking for help and that when the priest was there alone, it would not be safe for him to answer the door.  But the pounding on the door continued, and the priest, remembering the scriptures that said, “welcome the stranger because by doing so you often have entertained angels unawares” he finally decided to answer the door.  When he did, he found a youngish, very skinny, man on the doorstep who said he was extremely hungry and in need of food.  The priest went to their food collection barrel and gathered food to give to the young man.  Then suddenly he remembered Matthew 25 which says that whenever you feed someone who is hungry, you are doing it to Jesus himself.  On an impulse he called the young man who was leaving back and said, “I just have to ask you… are you by any chance Jesus?”  The young man gave him an intense but clear smile.  And he responded, “No, I’m not Jesus.  I’m Jesus.” (pronounced the Spanish way).  The priest continued by saying that his heart felt pierced by joy in that moment, touched as if an angel of God had indeed reached down and touched his heart, as if the Spirit had entered through the young man’s words. 

            For me, too, hearing the story, brought tears pouring down my face.  Are tears joy?  Of course.  They are the depth of our feelings: they touch our deepest places.  They are our most real prayers.  But again, you can also see in this story the difference between happiness and joy.  It is happy to face the reality of extreme poverty in our own communities?  To see those who are without homes, without food, without ways to care for themselves?  No.  But even in the midst of that pain of the reality of our communities and societies, we can find joy.  Joy is seeing one another with God’s eyes.  Joy is opening up with gratitude, and vulnerability to what life has to offer.  Joy is being in the moment and being grateful for each breath that you take.

            Father Gregory Boyle, in his book Tattoos on the Heart, described a time when his father was dying of a brain tumor.  He was in the hospital and he requested a pillow from home – but specifically a pillow from his wife’s side of the bed.  Father Boyle said, “you know, the hospital provides pillows...” but this was what his dying father had requested.  Father Boyle and his mother went into the hospital room, gave him the pillow and then his mother left to use the restroom.  He writes,

“I’m about to make small talk about the view… but I turn and see that my father has placed the flowery pillow over his face.  He breathes in so deeply and then exhales, as he places the pillow behind his head.  For the  rest of the morning, I catch him turning and savoring again the scent of the woman whose bed he’s shared for nearly half a century.  We breathe in the spirit that delights in our being – the fragrance of it.  And it works on us.  Then we exhale (for that breath has to go somewhere) – to breathe into the world this same spirit of delight, confident that this is God’s only agenda.” P151

God provides that joy all around us.  But it takes our choosing of gratitude, looking for the good, seeing with God’s eyes in order for us to receive that joy deep within. 

These are the places of joy.  These are times and places where we can live in the desert rejoicing, where we can celebrate the blind seeing, the lame leaping like deer, the speechless singing for joy.  Hear again these words from Isaiah.  And I invite you to be in a quiet place inside yourself, to close your eyes, if you are comfortable and to be in the joy of God in the desert, on the journey.  Here the Word of God:

“The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom; like the crocus, it shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice with joy and singing. The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it, the majesty of Carmel and Sharon. They shall see the glory of the Lord, the majesty of our God.  Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees.  Say to those who are of a fearful heart, “Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God. He will come with vengeance, with terrible recompense. He will come and save you.”

Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy. For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert; the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water; the haunt of jackals shall become a swamp, the grass shall become reeds and rushes.  A highway shall be there, and it shall be called the Holy Way; the unclean shall not travel on it, but it shall be for God’s people; no traveler, not even fools, shall go astray. No lion shall be there, nor shall any ravenous beast come up on it; they shall not be found there, but the redeemed shall walk there.  And the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.”

This is the Word of the Lord.