Sermon from October 22, 2006

In the book Conspiracy of Goodness, the author talks about a township in the midst of recovery after a civil war. As it begins to reorganize itself, it sets up three committees. One of them was known as the joy committee. The joy committee was put into place ot create an atmosphere of joy. In their planning, they recognized that for any community to have life, there must be joy. And for us to have life there must be joy.

Last night Luke was singing loudly while I was on the phone. I said very strongly, "Son, I like to hear you sing with joy, but not now." He looked puzzled. "But Mom, I just gotta sing with joy." Our souls seem to shout that. For life - for real life - we just gotta have joy.

God offers us joy even in the worst of circumstances. In the best of times, in challenges, in the struggles and in the revelations, God opens up the depth of life for us. Happiness comes from the circumstances around us, but joy. . . joy is the voice of God that makes our hearts leap. I want you, for a moment, to think about the surprising, unexpected ways that you have experienced God and God's love. You see, we want to compartmentalize God into one place in our lives. Sometimes we want to restrict God to one part of our lives because we are not sure what God will think about the rest of what we are doing. But God doesn't work that way. God touches us with God's spirit completely, always, and we are surprised. But we keep on thinking maybe, just maybe we have God figured out. God is serious business, we think, Jesus is serious business, we think. So we come to church serious, checking our laughter and our playfulness at the door. But the truth is that the foundation of joy is God, and in order for this church to have life, there must be joyful celebration.

It is our time to celebrate God's energy and love! David, as he transferred the ark to his household, danced. . . rather scantily clad, he danced. We would expect the Ark of the Covenant - this sacred vessel - to be moved with seriousness - a quiet, stately march. After all, it is holy. That point was made clear when, as the story is told, a man touched the ark to steady it and was immediately struck dead. The ark was not to be treated casually but with great respect. Bot David danced. Saul's daughter was horrified that he would dance - for he was acting like a commoner, not a king - but he danced because he knew the blessing of the covenant. He danced because it was time for celebration.

Jesus too was criticized for not being "proper." He ate and drank with tax collectors and sinners, who were considered the scum of the earth by the Hebrew culture. But Jesus did not come to Earth to be approved of, or to look good, or to be good. Jesus embraced the depth of life - laughing, eating, going to wedding parties, enjoying all kinds of folk. He was a man who was free to experience joy, and out of that joy, to listen to God's voice guide him to great love.

But we fear judgement, and we dole it out easily. We restrain ourselves with the questions of "What will others think?" "Will my friends turn their backs of me if. . ."

I was laughing at the fact that I pray often to God about my call. I pray, "God, please speak through me. . ." but because I'm Southern, I put a qualifier on my prayer: "except I don't want to speak in tongues." Now that is a gift of the Spirit I've never really wanted, but why do I recoil from that? Why do I limit God? We often try to limit God in other ways.

• God, I will go anywhere for you. . . but there must be working toilets.
• God, teach me about love. . . but not the hard way.
• God, give me wisdom. . . as long as I don't have to study too hard.

When we try to keep such a tight lid on our spiritual lives, we restrict and push down the completeness of God's joy.

A couple weeks ago, a number of us learned the forro, a Brazilian dance. It was great fun. Bruno, one of our teachers, kept reminding me to let him lead. . . but that was challenging for me. I'm used to being in charge. I resisted letting go and just being guided. But if I was going to learn the dance, I had to let the man lead. Soon, we were turning and twirling. I didn't know which way I was going next. I just had to get lost in the moment. There was true freedom and joy in that. And believe it or not, in the midst of that dance lesson, I learned something about God. There was a sacred moment in the midst of laughing, getting lost in direction, waiting for the next turn of the hand. I began to understand that I had to let go of the tight reigns of control and allow myself to be guided by God. . . and maybe, just maybe I would learn to whirl with joy with God. . . and maybe, just maybe, I would claim freedom to be the person God truly, truly called me to be - no qualifiers, no restrictions, no maybes.

Letting go is hard. But with release there is freedom. . . freedom to try not to control the uncontrollable. That is where true joy hides.