Momentous Joy

Charles Dickens closed "A Christmas Carol" with the declaration that Scrooge knew how to keep Christmas as well as anyone in London.

As we approach the 4th Sunday of Advent -- the "Joy" Sunday -- the challenge and promise is much the same. How do we "keep" joy?

Joy is tough for this preacher at least to get across. I was glad that the 4th Sunday of Advent was usually the week in the churches that I served when the Children's Christmas Pageant took over the Sunday service and I didn't have to worry about preaching a separate sermon.

And it's not that I have a personal problem with Joy. I laugh, smile, act silly...alot! It's just preaching about it. I could preach about love, grace, hope, faith -- did so often. There would be many anecdotes to share, philosophical bits of wisdom to impart, innumerable scriptures to quote on these themes. But Joy...you either have it, feel it, live it; or you don't. My preaching about it wasn't ever going to make any one feel more joyful (although, I'm sure it made some people wish for the "joy" to end!).

Paul wanted the Philippians (and us) to rejoice always. It sounds a little too giddy for this New Englander. Happy faces, gushy smiles, liturgical dancing in worship, hugs at passing the peace time -- ugh! It's almost as unnatural to me as the though that palm trees are much more appropriate at Christmastime than snowflakes.

I have seen the light though. I don't know whether it's the time of my life (don't we persons of a certain age start thinking of moving to warmer climbs as retirement looms in the ever nearer future?), but I get palm trees at Christmas. And, I get joy in church. Lord knows I've been to enough Sunday morning worship services in too many of our churches that seem much closer to funerals remembering when there was life than celebrations of the wonderful, gracefilled life that God lays before us.

My teachable moment came when I heard the 4th movement of Gustav Holst's "Planets" for the first time. This is the movement dedicated to the planet Jupiter. Holst subtitled each of the movements. The subtitle for Jupiter is "the Bringer of Jollity."

The Bringer of Jollity immediately intrigued me. First, how could a planet bring such an emotion, or even the god whose name the planet bears, for that matter. Jupiter's symbol is the thunderbolt -- hardly a joyful image. And, why would we need jollity depicted in a classical tone poem on the planets? Furthermore, and most importantly, I was intrigued with the word "jollity." What is it? Is it the same as joy? If so, why not just call it joy instead of some quaint derivative? If not, what is it?

I don't know the answers to any of these questions. Jollity does mean joy. It is an old-fashioned word for it, supposedly more frequently heard in the Victorian-Edwardian eras of England when Holst composed this piece. Old-fashioned as it is, I still like it.

To me jollity brings joy into the present, into the experiential and practical realms of life. Joy can be perceived as a philosophical notion or reality. But jollity is the act of being joyful, of actually experiencing and sharing joy.

Not only this, but "jollity" is a classy word. As such, while this kind of joy can be a knee slapping, guffawing loud and boisterous emotion, I think more accurately we know jollity in quieter moments of ecstacy, when a subtle smile and a warmed heart suffices speak volumes in and of themselves. Jollity becomes the spirit of one's life, the outlook in one's thoughts, the tone and vocabulary of one's speach.

For his part Holst began this movement with quick credenzas and brisk melodic variations. I think every outer space movie ever since the publication of "the Planets" borrowed from these bars of music. Still, it is all introductory to the main theme of the movement: a sedate, deeply moving and uplifting melody. It brings tears to my eyes each time I hear it. And, I say, "Yes, this is it! This is joy!"

Of course, while the revelation is not forgotten, the attendant feelings (the jollity) doesn't linger for long. It's okay. I experienced a moment when I did feel joy, and that's enough.

Paul wrote to Timothy to rekindle the gift of God that was passed on to him through the faith of his grandmother Lois and his mother Eunice as well as by the laying on of hands by Paul. Rekindling, fanning the flames of faith, of love and hope, of grace and peace, of joy: this is the meaning of Christmas. Indeed, may we keep it well.

Blessings,

Rick Cowles