“That my joy may be in you.” Jn 15:11
One of the enduring negative myths about Jesus paints him as a spoilsport. The legend has it that God saw us humans having too much fun, so he sent his son down to earth to make things more complicated for us, including a bunch of rules to obey. After having us jump through all these moral hoops, God would reward us with heaven.
As we probably know from personal experience, this story doesn't hold up. Far from looking to make our life more difficult, Jesus came to offer us the fullness of life. He saw us enslaved and came as our liberator. He saw us lost and came to show us the way home. He saw us confused and brought us the truth. He saw us lonely and forsaken and came to show us a Father's love. But he also came to bring us joy. He saw us sad, frustrated, anxious, and fearful and came to share his own happiness with us.
It's true that the Gospel doesn't offer instances of Jesus breaking down in fits of laughter, playing pranks on the apostles, or telling jokes around the campfire. We find him weeping at times but never guffawing. At the same time, the portrait of Jesus we get from the Gospel tells of a joyful heart, drawing those around him to discover what he had inside. We know, for instance, that children are naturally repelled by grouches, yet we find them clustering around Jesus and basking in his company. People were happy to be with Jesus because his own interior joy was contagious.
We read that Jesus "rejoiced in the Holy Spirit" (Lk 10:21). He tells his apostles to ask in order to receive, "so that your joy may be full" (Jn 16:24). He says that after the pain of his passion is over, "your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you" (Jn 16:22). Perhaps even more tellingly, Jesus tells them he has taught them about the Father's love "that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full" (Jn 15:11). It was his own joy he promised to share with them, a participation in his own serenely joyful heart.
Why was Jesus joyful? In the midst of so many travails with the weight of the world's salvation upon his shoulders, what was there to rejoice about? Surely what brought him the greatest joy was the Father's love-the realization that no matter what, the Father would be by his side as his light and his strength. Nothing could ever separate him from the Father's love. He rejoiced in the simple goodness of children, in the beauty of conversion, in the knowledge that he was opening the doors of salvation to a countless multitude of his brothers and sisters.
If our hearts are to be like Christ's, they must be filled with this same joy. Sulkiness and Christianity have never gone well together, borne out by St. Teresa's saying that "a sad saint is a sorry saint." Our deep joy reveals the authenticity of our encounter with the Risen Lord and becomes an invitation to others to discover what we have found. This joy is so important that St. Paul turns it into a command for Christians: "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice!" (Phil 4:4). In this way, joy becomes not just a passive feeling that comes and goes but a true Christian virtue, something to "practice." Our smile becomes a gift to others. Just think of Mother Teresa of Calcutta, whose smile lit up the world, despite the internal darkness that characterized much of her life. How often do I give the gift of a smile to others, even though I’m feeling down myself?
And our motivation for joy must also be similar to Christ's. It isn't a fiction, a painted-on clown's smile, hiding inner angst. It doesn't come and go with the waves of personal fortune. It issues forth from within, from the knowledge that we, too, are loved with an everlasting love. Like St. Paul, we, too, must be "sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rom 8:38-39). If this is our heartfelt conviction, what could possibly tarnish our joy?
Lord Jesus, how I would have loved to meet you here on earth. Your personality was so attractive, your character so magnetizing, that everyone wanted to be with you. Above all I would have liked to experience the deep joy that filled you. I would have liked to see you smile. Teach me to smile like that, to offer your smile to the world.
I often look for joy in the wrong places. I easily confuse passing mirth or frivolity with true happiness. But these things depart as fast as they came and often leave only sadness and emptiness in their wake. The joy I seek doesn't come and go. In your words, it becomes a fountain within, welling up to eternal life. I want the true joy that comes from knowing you, experiencing your goodness and living by your grace. Then come what may, I will hold the key to everlasting happiness.
Make me, Lord, an apostle of joy. In a world filled with anguish and vanity, people hunger and thirst for the joy that only you can give. I must bear witness to my faith and my hope through joy, so that everyone will want to know you, too. Let joy be the gift I offer to others, and to you as well, since you love a cheerful giver!
Jesus, joyful of heart, make my heart more like yours!
By Thomas Williams