June 13, 2004

"Joy"

How many of you are joyful to be here this morning? One of the fundamental things I’ve tried to share with you is that this hour we spend together on Sundays ought to be the most joyful of all the 168 hours we are allotted every week. And yet I know for many, it’s not. And I’m not just talking this church. Go into any Christian church and look around. You just don’t come away with the impression that this is a place where joy abounds, and that’s just not the way it ought to be.

We are not chosen to be gloomy. We are not chosen to be somber. We are not meant to be ugly little lemon-suckers. We are meant to have joy in our lives, and not just a little joy, but overflowing joy, splash around and get soaking wet and laugh out loud joy. We’re chosen for this; we know it because of the gift of faith we have received. That’s what Jesus was trying to get across to his disciples when he said “I love you just as much as my Father loves me. If you obey my commandments, you will remain in my love. I’m telling you this so that the joy I feel with my Father may be in you and that your joy may be complete.”

Now let me restate my question—how many here would like to feel more joy in their lives, especially here, in the church of Christ? It can happen, my friends. It can happen. In this sermon series, Building the Christian character, we’ve talked about kindness, patience, peace, faith, courage and last week wisdom. When you get the whole thing built, the net effect is like what happens when all the colors of the rainbow are mixed together: you get pure white, and white stands for joy. Now you might say, “But I can’t have perfect faith or perfect patience or perfect courage. Does that mean I can’t have joy?”

I know what you mean. None of us are perfect, and our perfect joy won’t happen until we reach heaven’s shores. But God asks only that we take little steps to improve our character, one day at a time, improve our faithfulness, one day at a time, so that our joy in his life may grow stronger, one day at a time. Let’s look at some of the practical things we can do to enhance the joy in our hearts.

First suggestion I want to share with you is to be who you are. Who here remembers the story of the little engine that could? I love trains—on the back of my car I have one of those license plates depicting a 1934 Pennsylvania Railroad steam engine. Well, the little engine that could was not as big and bold as one of the Pennsy’s old steam engines, but it could get the job done—hauling cars up one hill and down the other, all across the country, getting them to their destination safely and on time. And really, for a little engine, what more is there to life?

Well, one day he saw a plane, and from that moment he no longer was happy just being an engine. He would zoom down one hill and up the next, as fast as he could go, but just couldn’t get himself airborne. Finally he let go of his cars, just left them on the track, to try to get into the sky, but it still didn’t work. Not only was he sad that he couldn’t fly, the cars were mad. And the railroad was mad, too, because the cars didn’t get where they were supposed to go. It was not good, and things got even worse when he decided he wanted to be a boat. I guess you know how that ended up.

So what is the point? Be who you are. Be who you were meant to me. And don’t get distracted from what you do well. God made us to be his branches and bear good fruit, but some people want to be the vine, instead of the branches. Those people are setting themselves up to be miserable. A little engine can do the things a little engine can do because that’s what he was designed for. God made the design, and he can think about being a boat or a plane all he wants, but that won’t make him a boat or plane if it goes against God’s design. To be joyful in life, we have to be who God meant us to be.

Second suggestion is, be content with what you have. Years ago a Persian named Ali Hafed owned a large farm that had orchards, grain fields and gardens. He was a wealthy and contented man—until one day, someone filled up his head with stories of diamond mines and how wealthy Ali would be if only he owned one. Ali went to bed that night a poor man, because he had been robbed of his contentment—craving a diamond mine, he sold his farm to search for such a place, and he traveled the world over, finally becoming so poor, broken and defeated that he committed suicide in despair.

One day the man who had purchased Ali Hafed’s farm was leading his camel to drink. As the camel put his nose into the water, the man saw a flash of light from the stream. He pulled out a stone that reflected all the colors of the rainbow. The man had discovered Golcanda, the most magnificent diamond mine in history. Had the discontented Ali stayed at home and dug in his own land, he would have had acres of diamonds. Do you go to bed at night a poor man or woman like Ali? Concerned more with what you don’t have than with what you do?

Third suggestion: crave mercy more than justice. In Psalm 30 we read, “weeping tarries for the night, but joy cometh in the morning.” For many people that long night lingers while they demand justice for themselves, but joy arrives, along with the morning, only when they realize that it wasn’t justice they wanted, but mercy, all along.

A woman hired an expensive artist to paint her portrait. She sat many days while the artist painted her picture, and finally it was finished and he presented it to her. But she was disappointed and said to the artist, “This portrait doesn’t do my face justice.” And the artist replied, “Madam, your face doesn’t need justice, it needs mercy.” And so do we. Justice is getting what we deserve, but mercy is getting what we need, even though we don’t know it at the time. Jack Benny once received an award for his charity work. Jack Benny built his whole act around being a cheapskate, but in private he was a very generous man. When he received the award, he said, “I don’t deserve this. On the other hand, I have arthritis and I don’t deserve that, either.”

We begin life wanting justice, but joy comes when we grant the same mercy to others that we insist on having for ourselves. Most often we are not merciful because we have not allowed God’s mercy to touch us. You can’t give what you don’t have. Love your neighbor as you love yourself carries that warning—you can’t give what you don’t have. Too often we don’t hear or heed that warning.

Finally I would urge you, when in despair, to concentrate on the hope of our life in Christ. We were never promised a happily ever after life, but we have joy, because we have hope. Stephen Sondheim wrote a great musical called “Into the Woods” that featured a number of characters from fairy tales, including little Red Riding Hood and Jack of beanstalk-climbing fame. In the first half of the musical, everything goes well, including the town baker and his wife, who get the baby they dreamed of. We’re left to expect that they really will live happily ever after. But then the second half starts, and things start to go sour in a big way.

For example, remember the giant that came down the beanstalk after Jack and wound up dead? Seems he had a wife who comes looking for revenge, and she’s twice as mean as her husband.

Well, the baker’s wife gets killed—squished, actually—by the giant’s wife, leaving him a widower with a baby to raise. He’s all but ready to give up on life when a friend sings to him the most beautiful song in the show, “You are not alone. No one is alone.” Well guess what, gang? In this world, we truly are never alone, because of the presence of our Lord and savior Jesus Christ, who also happens to be the best friend anyone ever had. In him our hope is grounded, and because we have hope, we also can have joy.

And it bugs me that Presbyterians have such a hard time showing joy. At a conference at a Presbyterian church in Omaha, people were given helium balloons and told them to release them in the service when they felt like expressing the joy in their hearts. Being Presbyterian, they weren’t free to say “Hallelujah, praise the Lord.” All through the service balloons ascended, but when it over one third of the balloons had yet to be released. My friends, let your balloon go this morning. We have this magnificent earth to call our home, and an absolutely guaranteed future in heaven. As Yakov Smirnoff would say, “I love this God.”

My friends, Satan, our great enemy, is always looking to steal the joy from our lives—our personal life, our church life, our family life. The Bible calls him a great beast, looking to devour whoever he may destroy. But he doesn’t bite off great chunks of our life. He likes to nibble. He likes to eat away at the joy we ought to feel, and get us focused on selfish things. He gets us focused on the discontent of our jobs, the anxieties of the world and the pursuit of pleasure and possessions, the aches and pains that have become our lot in old age. Satan convinces us to despair so he can nudge us away from joy.

Grant and Chelsea, when I had you memorize the Ten Commandments, they were all important, but one of the most important was the last one: don’t covet what your neighbor has. Don’t be jealous of what anybody else has, and I’m not talking about the nicest car or the coolest clothes, or any physical things somebody else was given. There will always be somebody who runs faster than you or is smarter or better looking. If you want to be joyful in life, concentrate on the blessings you’ve been given, and on what you can give others. Lock on to those two, and I guarantee you that joy will be part of your life.

I heard a great story this week about Fiorello LaGuardia. He was the mayor of New York City many years ago, and he was something of a crazy guy. He would do things like come into the city’s courtrooms and take over from the judge, and he could get away with it because he was the mayor. One time he did exactly that, he came into the courtroom, took over the gavel and became the judge. A man came into the court accused of stealing a loaf of bread, and Mayor LaGuardia asked, “How do you plead?”

The man said, “Guilty, your honor, but I only stole the bread because my family was hungry.” The mayor banged the gavel and said, “Guilty as charged. I fine you $10.” Well, the man didn’t have $10, or he wouldn’t have needed to steal the bread. So the mayor stood up and said, “I’ll pay this man’s fine.” He reached into his pocket, took out a $10 bill and gave it to the clerk. And then he banged down the gavel again. “Now I fine everybody in this courtroom 50 cents for living in a city where a man has to steal bread to feed his family.”

LaGuardia passed his hat around to every person in the courtroom and when he was done, he had collected $147, which he gave to the man to take home to his wife and kids. What do you bet that every person who tossed 50 cents into that hat went home joyful? And LaGuardia went home the most joyful of all? He had made a difference in somebody’s life.

You see, that’s what Christ meant when he said “Keep my commandments, that your joy may be complete.” What did he command? “Love God, Love your neighbor.” It’s not complicated. It’s not hard to find a joy-filled life. But you’ll never find it looking inward, living a selfish life. You’ve got to look outward—toward your neighbors, and how you can help. That will bring you joy, even when your life lies is deep in the pits.

In fact, the Bible is full of stories about people who rejoiced even in the worst of times. Can you hear that word, “rejoice.” It means to be filled with joy again. Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego rejoiced even when they were cast into the fiery furnace. Why? Because they knew they were coming out of the fire. Daniel rejoiced even when they threw him into the lions’ den. Why? Because he knew that God would get him out. Paul and Silas were thrown into jail in Acts 16, but at midnight they sat around singing hymns until God sent an earthquake to throw open the jail.

But you know what? When the jail opened and their chains fell away, they still didn’t try to run, because they rejoiced to know that God was in charge of their situation, even in the midst of persecution. What would I do if I were in jail unjustly, and suddenly the doors flung open? I’d skedaddle, that’s what I’d do. But not Paul and Silas. The jailer, fearing all the prisoners had escaped, tried to kill himself, but Paul and Silas stopped him. And the jailer fell on his knees and asked them, “What do I need to do to be saved?” They replied, “Accept Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior.”

That’s what joy in the Lord does. It works in a circle—as we are saved, and filled with joy, we get chances to bring others to Jesus, too.

Do you know what a dog whistle is? A dog whistle blows at a frequency that’s too high for human ears to hear. You blow on it and you think that nothing’s happening. But dog’s ears are so much better than ours that they’ll come running at the sound. They’re on a different frequency than we are.

And the same is true with Christians, especially Christians who allow God’s joy into their hearts. We’re on a frequency that the world can’t hear. How can we rejoice when everything’s gone wrong? Because we can hear what they can’t hear. They’re hearing defeat, but we’re hearing victory. They’re hearing sickness, but we’re hearing victory. They’re hearing condemnation, but we’re hearing mercy. They’re hearing despair and sadness, but we’re hearing joy! We’re not crazy, it’s just that God has opened our ears to his truth.

My brothers and sisters, I know that some of you, perhaps many of you, are not feeling joyful this morning. You are saying, “How can I have joy fill my heart instead of despair?” The answer is, “You’re on the wrong frequency. You’re taking the short look at things. You think your troubles are going to last forever, but they’re not. Take the long view of life.” I mean, the real long view of life. We’re talking eternal life. We’re talking picturing yourself with God and all his saints throughout eternity, experiencing joy together. I’m thinking about some of the some of God’s saints who have passed away from us just in recent months, like Olive Ruth and Gene and Ema Jane Lowe and Hazel Leighty and Ruth McCune and Rose Mills and on and on. They’re all part of that scene now, rejoicing every moment in heaven.

But here’s the message I want you to take out that door—on the day you get to heaven, God will rejoice. God’s joy will overflow like a powerful stream, and you’ll be washed in that stream, and you better believe that there will be no more sorrow or pain or tears. In the meantime, God has given us all this incredible beautiful blue planet to live on. He has surrounded us with people who love us. He has given us abundant reasons to rejoice, such as Grant and Chelsea becoming members of his church. And he has given us this day, his day. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Weeping tarries for the night, but joy cometh in the morning. Joy is on its way. If you take the long view of life you know it. You feel it. Say it with me: “Joy is on its way!” Jesus is here! He is with us! He is the source of our joy. Joy is the fruit of his spirit. He is the vine, and joy is the fruit that grows on his branches.

As we go into the time of prayer, will you call upon the name of Jesus and ask him to save you? Will you ask Jesus to fill you with the joy of living in his grace?