Meant for Joy

The annual retreat of my religious community, The Lindisfarne Community, took place this past weekend.  It is always a deeply moving time, when we receive new novices, profess some to full membership, and for those called to ordained ministry, ordain them as deacons or priests.  We eat together, pray together, and share our concerns, accomplishments, and dreams.

This year, I began feeling troubled, seeking some peace at the end of a busy school year and a sudden change in summer plans.  I found myself early Saturday morning sitting at a window admiring trees blowing in a gentle breeze, simply allowing my thoughts to wander a bit, then settle a bit.  And I was reminded of a statement that a very wise man made to me once long ago.  He said, "God does not intend for you to suffer."  A simple observation, but one with profound personal and theological implications.  Having lived with that conviction for many years, I now felt myself prompted to ask the next necessary question: If God does not intend for us to suffer, what does God intend for our lives?

At first the usual religious answers came to mind: salvation, union with God, reconciliation... all well and good, but none provided an effective contrast to suffering.  And then it came to me -- we are meant for joy.  Not necessarily a life of constant bubbly cheerfulness, but a life in which each gesture, each place, each relationship is grounded in a kind of sacred joy.  Part of the work of discernment, then, becomes the responsibility to seek out the joy that is embedded and embodied in each moment of the day.  The work of ministry, then, becomes the communication of deep joy to others, especially when they themselves are suffering.

We are meant for joy.  We were created in joy, and are redeemed because it pleases God to do so.  Suffering is real, but it is not God's will for us.  Listen to the leaves that shimmer in the wind.  We are meant for joy.