The Fullest Possible Joy
Reflection Roundup reports from conversations couched in relationships. Here, readers will find boots-on-the-ground and “live from the field” items important to Christian leaders. As always, listening broadly draws together differing perspectives from which we can learn but with which we may not concur. Several connections this past month surprised me: joy, obedience, a fussy baby, and the response when the Gospel falls on childlike ears in the hearts of even those who have heard it many times.
“So, what is your favorite parable in John?” a student asked me a few weeks ago. That question may cause you to shift in your seat or even snicker a little bit, but it compares to one I asked my own mentor not so many years ago. My question for him was, “What’s your favorite synoptic Gospel?” to which my own answer was, “John.” See? Same issue. Really, it is semantics in all the best ways.
These question/answer ties are signs (appropriate for John!) of someone on the cusp of really getting into the text of scripture and learning a whole lot. I learned that John is not a synoptic, but not because Dr. Carson Reed corrected me. I learned through my own experiences, up close and personal, with the Gospels. One dear student is on a similar journey, taking his own path to understanding the metaphors and very literal statements of identity Jesus makes in John’s Gospel, which by the way is still my favorite. We talked about the vine and the branches in John 15.
No surprise, the Gospels are powerful. So powerful, in fact, that some students cannot quite bring themselves to a public space, like a classroom, in which they are being read. There is something deeply embedded within the story of the earthly life of Jesus that touches those for whom it is new and fresh with childlike sensitivity. Hearing the Gospel story causes a responsiveness of spirit that can exceed bodily control. It’s emotional! People, for the most part, like to be in charge of their emotions in public spaces, and so it is outside of class that some Gospel conversations have to take place. So we read. In an honest desire for growth and understanding, we shared John 15 out loud. Using our voices and hearing one another speak, we read out loud all the way to Jesus’ command, “Love each other” (Jn 15:17).
This reading happened to take place during Advent, specifically during week three in which joy is the focus. Unpacking why this has always been a favorite, I shared a teaching I received from a good friend a long time ago. To produce the fruit Jesus was talking about in the metaphor of the vine, all people need to do is remain connected to Jesus, the vine. Reading further: “I have obeyed my Father’s commands, and I remain in his love. In the same way, if you obey my commands, you will remain in my love. I have told you these things so that you can have the same joy I have and so that your joy will be the fullest possible joy” (Jn 15:10-11, italics mine).
The fullest possible joy comes from obedience. What?! This is very different from the many sources of joy people hear advertised, even by their most trusted podcasters, throughout the Advent and Christmas season. The most altruistic sources of joy include spending time with loved ones, achieving a goal, and even contributing to something greater than ourselves through helping others. While all of these things could possibly lead to a joyful heart, they each still pose lingering questions. What do these people think of me? What if I were not able to contribute in the usual way that brings me joy? What if I were able only to “be”?
Maybe you had the blissful opportunity to spend some time around a baby over the holiday. Reconnecting with a growing family sometimes brings new people into our lives. Babies are willful, passionate even! They most certainly know what they want, but are not capable of providing it for themselves. They are completely reliant on the hands and feet of others for their care. Babies are experts at showing people how to just “be.”
In his timeless classic In the Name of Jesus: Reflections on Christian Leadership, Henri Nouwen writes of an important conversation Jesus has with Peter on the shore of Galilee post-resurrection. In this exchange, Jesus does much with few words to touch both the heart of Peter and the heart of the contemporary Christian leader. Over breakfast, Jesus extends Peter three invitations to declare his love for Jesus. While this repetition seemed to annoy Peter, Jesus knew Peter needed an opportunity to repent of his three denials on the night of Jesus’ betrayal. This also allowed Peter to practice in resisting the three temptations with which Jesus himself had been presented at the beginning of his ministry: relevance, popularity, and power—the same temptations that leaders today experience. Jesus talks about ministry, about feeding the sheep, and about how joining God’s mission in the world in this way will often take a person places they would not themselves imagine or choose.
This is life modeled after Jesus’ own passion for the Father, a passion that caused him to be led to the cross. The piece people sometimes miss is the earlier passion in the life of Jesus, the passion that caused him to choose to submit to the power of others for his care. Of course, this occurred when he was a baby who had entered the human world to just “be,” to exist at the mercy of those who cared for him for a number of years.
When Jesus says, “let the little children come to me; the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these,” he is talking about this loving ability to be led by our Father, to relinquish control over our own plans and lives and be truly useful to God in the ways that God chooses, to be obedient. Here, in this way of being, lies the fullest possible joy. Who knew?
A familiar hymn recalls this connection between the suffering that obedience inevitably brings and the fullest possible joy:
I want to know Christ
And the power of his rising
Share in his suffering, conform to his death.
When I pour out my life
To be filled with his Spirit
Joy follows suffering, and life follows death.
If people allow themselves to be brought before the Gospel in a childlike way and experience a true encounter, they will discover it requires something of them. This is what keeps some away, because simply knowing the truth of the life of Christ will compel a person’s soft spirit toward change. Often, even when people know change is in order, enacting the change is what holds them back. Change is hard. Even when it is good, it is hard because it is change. Amid change, people can feel isolated simply because they are moving away from comfortable surroundings, familiar people, and the ruts in which they usually run. Even a change of mindset is difficult; this may be the most difficult change of all! It is completely internal and therefore subversive to the outside world, but it affects literally everything a person does and every relationship they have.
In his posthumously published book Discernment, Nouwen reminds readers that “Jesus’ stories and teachings urge us to ask ourselves (and sometimes other people) whether we are behaving in loving and empathic ways, and whether we are willing to change our selfish or destructive behaviors in response to what we learn.”[1]
It is my prayer at the start of this new year that those with ears to hear will listen to the voice of the Spirit and obey, whatever that looks like. Surely Jesus’ words are true, and this is the road to the fullest possible joy.
1. Henri J. M. Nouwen, Discernment: Reading the Signs of Daily Life, FIRST edition. (HarperOne, 2013).
