2023-11-12 A Meditation on Joy

“4 though I myself have reason for confidence in the flesh also. If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: 5 circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; 6 as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless. 7 But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. 8 Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ 9 and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith— 10 that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, 11 that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.” (Php 3:3–11 ESV)

Joy is a peculiar proposition because so much runs contrary to its dynamic. So much seems more logical or sensible; that man, woman, should be regaled in the Spirit, blessed in the Holiness, courageous in the Sublime, runs contrary to waking thought.

Indeed, waking thoughtfulness wants in big brother fashion to provide, to nurture, to have the answers. Waking thoughtfulness meets an impoverished spirit, that spirit in woman and man that wanted to do the deed all on our own. All by our lonesome, yet we are not alone, rather find joy in our very dying frame, in our decrepit loss, in our impoverished state.

We are less because now we are More: more encouraged, more victorious, more gladsome, in the trenches no less. No less of a surprise is our peer and neighbor’s situation: they are happy, they are joyous, they are picking over slim pickings but remain the Victor over life’s bedeviled quandaries.

Those quandaries give air and pockets of space, to breathe, to dwell in, to coexist throughout. Those quandaries make us the more joyous for our hardships, rather, the complicated exchanges of life upon life give way to plain healthsome spirit and peace. Our complex exchanges run straight unto a lingering Holiness and Peace. It remains; it is steady; it is found where no man’s land is the law of the land, no man’s peace, no man’s shelter, no man’s sanctuary. It is found where self-assessment runs a wicked route, blaming and faulting ourselves; we see our friend and neighbor somehow meek, holiness befits each of us including them: some are simply not asserting themselves but rather asserting patient queries and selfless non-impositions. That is, not all life is trapped in cisterns of pride and selfish behaviors. There is a peace to adopt, to merge into, even to get a little exasperated at the bouts of meek approach.

They approach us in holiness, meek, wishing to serve and to show thankfulness. They approach us because we in gladsome fashion stood tall, that Joy being our posture and our welcome goodness in this world. Yes, for we are loved because of good things, good deeds even, yet loved so much more for being Solo and Exclusive regarding attribution: God attributed the good deeds to us, though they were properly copyright Christ. God gave us magnanimous wealth to pour over and overflow. These things are our proper inheritance, though no pecuniary—no financial—windfall. Yes, with the poor we were poor. With the joyous we were joyous. With the belligerent we were Ready. With the peaceful we were Calm. In all these things we had the Divine Spirit to invite and situate and make steady. That we should have Joy. That we should boast in our weakness. That we should honor a God and Father somehow greater than the sum of His people. Greater than us. Greater as this patient embedded, tightly situated, calmly behind enemy lines, soldiering Father Above. Who can do all things but wishes us to be His body and hands and feet, heart and mind. Who can prove the pudding but has a relishing for Human Quality of outlay. To see us Divine in image, Made in posture, Created in stature. Him we serve, because the game is ours to win in unity. The game is ours to grow into, flowering and budding and image-bearers. And our joy is there in the trenches, in the scary places and in the blindly courageous stands we take. To die. To live as though promised over unto sacrifice. To soldier on with nary a regret, except that we didn’t honor Him as God and Parent sooner.