“Counting It All Joy”

6. For the Sake of Joy

Hebrews 12:1-3

Matthew 5:1-12

First Presbyterian Church of Jamestown , New York

The Reverend Thomas A. Sweet

July 29, 2007

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As Andrea was leaving us to go back to Columbus to finish her final year of seminary, she bestowed on me a box of books that she and John owned in duplicate to see if I could use any of them.  There was among the gaggle of texts one book I never had seen.  It was William Barclay’s translation of the New Testament.  William Barclay was a Scottish interpreter of the Bible and his Daily Bible Study commentary series on the New Testament is one of the most popular of all time.  His goal in writing his translation was to make it intelligible to people who are not scholars (since, he said, scholars can render their own translations) and to offer to the people a translation that does not need a commentary to explain it.  If you are looking for a theologically solid and accessible translation of the New Testament, I suggest Barclay.  As I read through it, I found myself moved by the beauty and simplicity of it over and over again.  Here is his translation of our Hebrews passage for the day:  

“So, then, in the arena of life we are surrounded by a vast crowd of spectators.  We must therefore, as an athlete strips for action, strip off every encumbrance and the sin that clings to us, and we must run with gallant determination the race that stretches in front of us.  And all the time we must concentrate on…Jesus, in whom our faith had its beginning and must have its end, for he, for the (sake of the) joy that lay ahead of him, courageously accepted the cross, with never a thought for the shame, and now has taken his seat at the right hand of God.  The way to avoid the failure of your nerve and heart is to compare your situation with the situation of him who met the opposition…with such constancy and courage.”  

We have been talking about joy this summer and the contribution that this passage makes to our consideration, I think, is to tell us that authentic joy is hard won.  “For the sake of the joy that lay ahead of him, Jesus courageously accepted the cross…” Joy is no Pollyanna feeling arising from favorable circumstances, for that costs us nothing.  Joy is revealed precisely where we might not at first expect to find it - in the midst of brokenness, adversity, disparagement, discouragement, failure, and heartbreak – if we stay with them long enough and do not too quickly run from them.  Joy is not, as we sometimes imagine, the fruit of good fortune and pleasant living, but is rather the acceptance of the full mix of life, trusting that all of it is being lived in God in whom our lives are kept, and so we resolve to live life deeply, all of it, no matter the cost.  

The apostle Paul was shipwrecked, imprisoned, scorned, and ridiculed and yet, toward the end of his life, he exclaimed, “I count it all joy.”  Jesus encountered fierce opposition throughout his ministry and came to know that his end would be execution, yet he said to his disciples on the night before his crucifixion, “It is all about joy.”  Etty Hillesum, a young Jewish woman who lived in Amsterdam during World War II amid the terror of the Nazi occupation there, was determined nevertheless to bear witness to the inviolable power of love and to reconcile her profound experience of human suffering with her deep appreciation for the beauty and meaning of life.  Her letters and diaries are preserved in an incredible book entitled An Interrupted Life.  When on the seventh day of September, 1943, she and her family were herded into a cattle car bound for Auschwitz , she threw a card out of the train window that said to the world, “We left for the camp singing.”  That is joy.   Julian of Norwich, a fourteenth century English mystic, though herself beleaguered with illness for much of her life and living in turbulent times that included the Black Death plague and a series of peasant revolts that made life unstable all around her, nevertheless asserted that “all shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.”  That, too, is joy.  

There is a story about a spiritual teacher who once was questioned by his students as to why he was so full of joy.  “After all,” they said, “you are surrounded by suffering and loss.  How can you have such joy?”  The teacher picked up a crystal glass and said, “I love this glass.  I love the way it sounds when I touch it.  I love the way it glistens in the sun.  I love the feel of it when I put it to my lips.  And yet one day, no doubt, my elbow will knock it off the table and it will break.  I love this glass because I know that it is already broken.”  

Ironically, I happened onto an internet column the other day in which a new question is posed to its readership each morning, and then responses are posted throughout the day.  One reader replied to the question, “For you – is the glass half empty or half full?” – by saying something similar to the spiritual teacher: “For me, the glass is neither half empty nor half full.  I enjoy the glass because it is already broken.  Life is short and fleeting, and too often not appreciated when it is here, and mourned when it is gone.  I enjoy the glass because it is already broken, just as I already have died, and so I am grateful for having the glass at all, just as I am thankful for every breath I take.”  

Do you see?  Our lives are like broken glass.  To be sure, our humanity sometimes shimmers in the sunshine of life and sometimes chimes with the sounds of love shared and cherished, and yet Jesus said that it is in the broken places of our lives, the vulnerable places of our humanity, that we shall find and experience joy.  It is hard to believe, I know, because our culture has schooled us otherwise.  But Jesus was insistent:  

“Blessed are the poor in spirit…”  “Blessed are those who mourn….”  “Blessed are the meek…”  “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness….”  “Blessed are the merciful....”  “Blessed are the peacemakers...”  “Blessed are those who are persecuted for the sake of justice.”  “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and try to discredit you on account of me and my gospel of love that puts people first and poor people first of all…”  

So often when we talk about the blessings of life, or wish blessings on others, we are thinking of all manner of good and fluffy things.  But, according to Jesus, the blessings of life are the hard things.  The Greek word, makarios, often translated in the Beatitudes as “blessed” perhaps can better be understood in its alternate meanings…one of which is “you are on the right road.”  So, “you are on the right road” if you are poor in spirit.  Another alternate meaning is “happy,” not happiness as a fleeting feeling born of good fortune, but joy born of deep living.  Happy are those, joyous are those who mourn, who care enough, who go deep enough within themselves, to be touched by the sadness and sorrow of the world, who experience a solidarity with those who suffer.  

“Jesus,” the writer of Hebrews says, “for the sake of joy, courageously accepted the cross, with never a thought for the shame…”  He did not shy away from the hard places, from the hardest place, because he discovered that joy, which he valued more than anything else, is found in the pouring out of our lives and the pouring out of our love.  

I have struggled all week to know how to make this point with you and I only have been able to come up with this, so let me try it:  When we try to live from a position of strength, then we are committed, as the saying goes, to grabbing life by the tail.  We do whatever we have to do to make it work for us and our goal is to position ourselves through the accumulation of power, wealth, things, and reputation to be and to feel less and less susceptible to the vagaries and vicissitudes of life.  That is one way to live and it has its own substantial rewards.  

But the other way, living from an acknowledgement of our brokenness, means that we are more free to experience life as it comes to us in all of its nuances and serendipities, in its ambiguities, opportunities, and mysteries.  This way does not seek to separate us from the mass of humanity by dint of personal privilege inherited or acquired, but to immerse us in the mass of humanity by virtue of a social consciousness and a shared life.  This way does not bestow charity from above, but grieves and supports and both offers and receives companionship and wisdom from below.  And therein lies joy.  

Maybe this poem by Mary Oliver says it in a more helpful way, a poem entitled, simply, “Egrets.”  

Egrets  

                                                            Where the path closed

                                                                             down and over,

                                                                                  through the scumbled leaves,

                                                                                       fallen branches,

                                                            through the knotted catbrier,

                                                            I kept going.  Finally

                                                                   I could not

                                                                                    save my arms

                                                                                        from the thorns; soon

                                                                        the mosquitoes

                                                                                smelled me, hot

                                                                                     and wounded, and came

                                                                                         wheeling and whining.

                                                                                                And that’s how I came

                                                            to the edge of the pond:

                                                                                  black and empty

                                                                                      except for a spindle

                                                                                           of bleached reeds

                                                            at the far shore

                                                                                  which, as I looked,

                                                                                       wrinkled suddenly

                                                                                            into three egrets—

                                                            a shower

                                                                       of white fire!

                                                                                        Even half-asleep they had

                                                                                             such faith in the world

                                                            that had made them –

                                                                        tilting through the water,

                                                                                    unruffled, sure,

                                                                                              by the laws

                                                                         of their faith not logic,

                                                                                     they opened their wings

                                                                                           softly and stepped

                                                                                                over every dark thing. (1)     

Not steeling ourselves against life, but opening ourselves fully to it, trusting that in doing so even the dark things will not overwhelm us or undo us but teach us and make us more human, that is the way of joy…and I commend it.  For it is in God that we live and move and have our being, and so we need not finally fear, but only live, truly live.  

Amen.  

(1) (Mary Oliver, New and Selected Poems, Volume 1.  Boston : Beacon Press, 1992, p. 148.)

© Copyright 2007 First Presbyterian Church

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