Sermons
Joy Like a Fountain
“Joy Like a Fountain” based on Isaiah 12:2-6 and Philippians 4:4-7
There is a bit of a challenge to this week. Today, on this 3rd Sunday of Advent, we have lit the candle of Joy! We have texts calling us to joy! We’re meant to engage in and savor the joy of God.
But, also, we have the Long Night service this week, the time when I will tell attendees that they don’t have to be joyful if they’re not joyful – that God meets them where they are – that one can honor Christmas with tears as well as anything else.
For some reason I don’t feel like it would be particularly authentic to preach to you today about joy, and then talk about grief and sadness on Wednesday as if they’re entirely separate things.
I’ve been thinking about the spaces that joy and grief intermingle. I know that this perhaps a bit personal, but adoption is one of those places. Our family is profoundly joyful that we’re complete, that we have a delightful baby to adore, and that our adoption is finalized. But adoption never exists in joy alone, because it is profoundly sad that birth parents cannot parent their children, and it is heartbreaking that children need to be separated from their birth parents. It can be the right thing, the best thing, the thing that brings us the most joy – and still be filled with grief.
Truthfully, many deaths are like this too. We who are left behind are aghast at the loss of loved ones, but often also relieved at the end of suffering. Sometimes, even, the one who dies has expressed being ready and waiting to go, to be joy-filled to be done, and we have to hold our grief with their joy.
A now-deceased church member, Miles Martin said all of this much better than I’ve been able to in his poem “Bittersweet”
“Bitter-sweet” by Miles J Martin
In the strange dichotomy of living
The purest joys are bitter-sweet,
And happiness often lingers
Where tears and laughter meet.
Of all accumulated treasures
That crown the passing years,
Most precious are the jewels
That crystallize from tears.
Above the bitterness of parting
And the sadness of farewell,
An all-pervasive sweetness
Casts its blessed, healing spell.
Though familiar ties be severed
And old friends seldom meet,
Fondest memories intermingle
The bitter with the sweet.
Throughout this mortal journey
Where time is short and fleet,
We find that all of living
Is a blend of bitter-sweet.
The first time I took a Nonviolent Communication Course (which is sometimes called Compassionate Communication), we were asked how we were feeling after a lunch break. Luckily there were cards with emotions on them for us to look at and consider, since we were like most people and not particularly fluent with emotions. I don’t remember how I was feeling, but I remember one of the teacher saying that she felt conflicted, because she was both excited about teaching us and worried that not everyone had made it back from lunch yet. I remember it because it was an ah-ha moment for me, that more than one emotion at the same time is real, valid, and even normal.
This week, we’re talking about joy and sadness, and we’re acknowledging that they often intermingle, and “all of living is a blend of bitter-sweet.” Now that we’ve acknowledged that, I feel a lot more comfortable putting the majority of our attention this morning on joy.
Our scriptures emphasize gratitude as a natural response to God’s goodness. God who cares for us, God who gives us peace, God who is our strength, God who is trustworthy, God who is with us – God being God is reason enough for joy. There is truth there.
God who created brings joy. God whose creation includes waterfalls and starlit nights, sunrises and autumn colors, raspberries and coffee, the oceans and the plains, hummingbirds and blue whales is definitely a God of joy. And it turns out life itself is filled with joys, when we’re able to attend to them. To eat is a joy. To drink is a joy. To move is a joy. To talk is a joy. To hear is a joy. To watch is a joy. To make meaning is a joy. To play is a joy. To create is a joy. To offer care is a joy. To receive care is a joy. And even when we can’t have all of those things, most of us get many of them EVERY DAY!
When I think about sadness and grief, I’m often struck by how much grief relates to change. We grieve what we’ve lost and identified with – people and identities and hopes and dreams. It could be far too easy to conclude that change makes for grief, and it may even be partially true. But to return to the idea of bitter-sweet, change also looks like growth, and healing, like the fulfillment of dreams, and the letting go of identities that don’t fit anymore. Change itself is bittersweet, and I think it is important to notice how it feels and what delight there can be in it.
That amazing spiritual “I’ve Got Peace Like a River” seems to summarize both of our scriptures and all that I’ve said so far. It seems worth noting that African American spirituals didn’t come from times when all was well, they came from souls that knew that there was more than external realities. To be in the midst of oppression and sing “I’ve got peace like a river, I’ve got joy like a fountain, I’ve got love like an ocean in my soul” was to refuse the power of the oppressor to define reality. It was to make God’s peace, joy, and love the centerpiece of life. It was to claim goodness, even the midst of hardness.
I have said it before, but I think it bears repeating: we are formed by what we give our attention to. In the era of social media and 24 hour news cycles it is really easy to get pulled into despair and distress. But we’re called to peace, love, joy, and hope. Which requires that we give attention to goodness and God-ness too. We have to be more intentional that people who came before us, in making sure we bring our attention to the little miracles of life. Now, I’ll admit it, I’m in an easier position than many to do that. I get to be awed every day at things my kids are learning, and that is an unfair advantage compared to those who don’t get to do that in this era of their lives. But dear ones, I encourage you to savor the things you love – great flavors, great music, great decorations, great relationships, great fiction, great naps!
One of the best spiritual practices I know is the practice of daily examen. (Yes, I push this regularly, if you now all do this and haven’t’ told me yet, let me know and I’ll move on.) In daily examen you get centered with God, review your day, look for the best and worst parts, share those either in a journal or with others, and then offer thanks to God for the best and the worst and everything in between. When practiced daily (or even at any regular interval) it can help us see what we’re loving about life and what our constant struggles are, which can also guide us towards moving our lives towards greater joy.
More simply though, it gives us a chance to pay attention. To notice what days are bustling with little joys, or what days really weren’t that hard, and mostly it gives us a chance to listen WITH God and find some delights we missed the first time around but can delight in as we reflect on them. I’m personally shocked at how often the worst part of my day is related to the best part. As previously mentioned, “We find that all of living is a blend of bitter-sweet.”
Dear ones, seek joy, savor joy, attend to joy, allow for joy. And, remember, it is human to feel multiple emotions at once. You joy won’t cancel out your sadness or anger, but neither will it be canceled out. We’re people of faith – we have joy like a fountain! Thanks be to God! Amen
December 15, 2024
Rev. Sara E. Baron
First United Methodist Church of Schenectady
603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305
Pronouns: she/her/hers
