Faith, Trust, and Joy

Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
Lectionary: 141

When I was nineteen or so, my sister announced to my mother and I that she intended to be a (celibate, sell it all and give the money to the poor) missionary. I was filled with admiration for her courage and commitment, and my first thought was “I should do that too, what could be better?” My second thought was “I don’t want to, but I will if I have to.” I went to the Lord in prayer, and really gave God a piece of my mind. The one thing every master owes their servant is a good, clear set of instructions. How can a master expect a servant to be obedient, if the master doesn’t give good instructions? If God wanted me to leave everything and be a missionary, then certainly God should tell me so. It was only fair, after all. Clearly, God owed me a very clear set of instructions for the path I should choose in life. I ranted on like this for a good long while.

Then, when I finally shut up for a minute, God spoke to me.

“I mean for it to be joy.”

These seven words changed my everything. I’d never thought of God as a God who desired that my life would be full of joy. I’d never thought of God as something to enjoy. I expected service, sacrifice, slow sanctification, and such, but not joy. 

Saint Augustine teaches us that all things are for us to use, or for us to enjoy, or both. 

Some things are to be enjoyed, others to be used, and there are others that are to be used and enjoyed. Those things that are to be enjoyed make us blessed. Those things that are to be used help and, as it were, sustain us as we move toward blessedness. . . . To enjoy something is to cling to it with love, for its own sake. To use something, however, is to employ it in obtaining that which you love, provided it is worthy of love.

Saint Augustine goes on to teach us the Blessed Trinity, the one true God, is the only thing to be enjoyed for its own sake. Not for what God can do for us, or has done for us, or as a means to any end, but for God’s own sake.

I was trying to use God. I wanted to use God’s foreknowledge, wisdom, and power such that, by being obedient to God’s command, I could confidently face life. 

At times, the Children of Israel seem to look at God the same way I did. These people, whom God delivers from Egypt with miracles, leads through the sea and the desert with a pillar of cloud and fire, and feeds with both manna from heaven and flocks of quail see all of God’s mighty works. Now, they are grumbling, and fighting among themselves. Scripture tells us “the place was named Massah and Meribah, because the Israelites quarreled there and tested the LORD, saying, ‘Is the LORD in our midst or not?'”After everything, they do not trust God. The people of God see God’s power, but they do not see God’s love. For them, God is not yet a “thing” to be enjoyed, or person(s) to be trusted, only a power to be used.

In the months, weeks, and the days leading up to ordination, I was, to steal a phrase from C.S. Lewis, surprised by joy. I found myself more and more frequently experiencing those “stabs of joy” C.S. Lewis describes. For Lewis, this joy represented a taste of God accompanied by a perpetually unsatisfied desire for more. That joy seems to have settled in to my heart – a guest I welcome to remain.

When I say joy, I don’t simply mean happiness. Joy is… something deeper. It is not merely situational, although we certainly experience deep happiness approaching joy in the situations of marriage and family life. Joy can persists through difficult situations, and suffering. It is not simply excitement or satisfaction. It is not a smile we put on our faces. It is not something we choose. It is not merely biochemical. Joy is a response of a heart that sees Christ. It is a fruit of the work of the Holy Spirit. 

How does that happen? How can we move from a faith that wants to use, or even serve God, to a faith enjoys God, then guard that joy, so it remains?

I think it requires a blend of gift and effort.

Faith is a noun. It is something we possess, not something we do. We receive it as a gift from Christ, who is the author of our faith. We receive it through the life and words of others who have already received the gift of faith. Faith allows us the opportunity to experience God. 

This initial experience of God is where our effort enters the picture. Even where God seems to intrude in some miraculous way, it is up to us to decide whether we see this as an introduction and invitation to allow faith to grow, or to dismiss God’s presence and work as coincidence or illusion. If we accept the gift of faith, we give God permission to “show up” in our lives. These experiences of God, if we allow them, give us the opportunity to learn we can safely trust God. 

Trust is a verb. It is something we do, and it is based upon evidence and experience.

Trust isn’t automatic. The Children of Israel struggled to learn to trust God, and so do many of us. It is difficult to trust, and it is OK if we are hesitant. People disappoint us. We learn not to trust. It takes an active decision to release that distrust, and to trust God.  The good news is – God values our honest doubt. The psalmists and prophets, including Habakkuk, from whom we hear in today’s first reading, wrestle with God. Habakkuk expresses his frustration that God has not yet responded to his pleas. His “How long, O Lord” resonates with me. God does not smite Habakkuk for his frustration, but asks him to be patient, because “…the vision still has its time, presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint; if it delays, wait for it, it will surely come, it will not be late.” God will, if we allow it, and do so in a spirit of honest seeking, “prove” trustworthiness. That doesn’t allow us to give God ultimatums, or test God, like the Children of Israel did at Meribah and Massah, but God is willing to do whatever it takes to bring us into relationship – even become a man, and die for us.

Faith allows us to experience God. Experiences of God lead us to understand God’s character, and to learn to trust God. As I mentioned recently, trust in God means we trust that God intends love, and we trust when God will manifest loving kindness to us. When we look upon the one who is trustworthy, and put our trust in God’s character and love for us, we can face every situation with joy, and “enjoy” God. This is, in a sense, the “treasure hidden in the field.” This joy is the sweetness of eternal life, which God invites us to enjoy today, and we look forward to enjoying for all eternity.

How is God calling us to experience, trust, and enjoy God today?  “If today you hear God’s voice, harden not your hearts.”

Out of the darkness of my life, so much frustrated, I put before you the one great thing to love on earth: the Blessed Sacrament....There you will find romance, glory, honor, fidelity, and the true way of all your loves upon earth, and more than that: death: by the divine paradox, that which ends life, and demands the surrender of all, and yet by the taste (or foretaste) of which alone can what you seek in your earthly relationships (love, faithfulness, joy) be maintained, or take on that complexion of reality, of eternal endurance, that every man's heart desires - J. R. R. Tolkien

 

What do you think?