Joy for joy's sake

How and why to cultivate joy

A few weeks ago, I was reminded just how much I love live music. 

I feel like this happens every few months or so. Whether it’s a troubadour with a guitar on the patio of a local restaurant or a carefully crafted and painstakingly produced arena show that leaves my ears ringing and my voice hoarse, there’s just nothing that quite compares to the feeling of participating in live music events. 

This spring, I’ve been thinking a lot about the ways that God demonstrates his love to us, and I genuinely believe that the gift and experience of music is one of those ways. Music isn’t necessary to survival in the way that food and water is. It doesn’t make your muscles stronger or your skin clear. 

Yet, humans throughout all time periods and geographical locations have used it to tell stories, to preserve history, to declare love, to worship, and to communicate experiences that words alone can’t quite capture. It’s an unparalleled part of the human experience that, though not apparently a biological requirement, is nonetheless inescapable and exceptionally desirable. 

There’s really only one word that accurately describes what it’s like to really experience music: joy. 

What is joy?

Of course, music isn’t the only way I experience joy in my life. As I’ve been meditating on God’s love (which was prompted in large part by our study on 1 John), I’ve been noticing more and more moments of joy in my life. 

A solar storm early last month meant that the Aurora Borealis was visible in my backyard in North Alabama. Carson and I spent an hour that Friday night on a picnic blanket in complete and total awe of the masterpiece unfolding before our eyes. Joy. 

We spent one Saturday in May upgrading the landscaping in our front yard, replacing bushes that had become victims of the winter frost with bubblegum pink hydrangeas. A few days later, something caught my eye through the front window—it was a hummingbird, the first of the season, stopping by the flowers we hung in baskets on the porch for a sip of nectar. Joy. 

A Jane Austen novel. A pickleball session with friends. A long-awaited wedding. An afternoon working from home on the patio. A really delicious pastry. A whiff of honeysuckle in the air. Joy. 

Maybe some of these things sound trite. They’re certainly not all hard to come by (though I will maintain that seeing the Northern Lights from my house is an experience I never dreamed I’d have—but that one’s a bit of an outlier). 

I think that’s kind of the point, though. When you start looking, asking God to reveal all the small details that he has created for our delight and his glory, you may be surprised by just how much joy there is to discover. 

Cultivating joy

Two passages of scripture come to mind when I think about joy. The first is in Nehemiah 8:10, where the Israelites are reminded by Ezra, Nehemiah, and the Levites that “the joy of the Lord is your strength.” This declaration comes at a time of renewal for the people living in Jerusalem; they have finished rebuilding the city wall, participated in a weeklong study of the Torah, and are preparing to celebrate a feast. 

Interestingly, scripture tells us in Nehemiah 8:9 that the reading of the Law lead the people to weep and mourn—presumably acknowledgements of their own lack when faced with the complete holiness of God, revealed through the words of Moses. But, rather than encouraging them to wallow in their grief, Ezra, Nehemiah, and the Levites step in to exhort the people to joy—a joy founded in and sustained by Yahweh. 

They send the people to feast with a reminder that “this day is holy; do not be grieved.” There’s a time for fasting and a time for feasting, these leaders seem to be saying, and both practices are holy. Joy most certainly has a place in reverent worship. 

The second passage that comes to mind is the list of the fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5:22-23. “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.” 

Often, I sell this list short by thinking of them as general virtues. Many of the items can be read as moral attitudes that are to be perfected in the life of the believer: patience, kindness, self-control, etc. But, of course, simply interpreting this as a virtuous to-do list is missing the point. 

The real story here isn’t a list of virtues, but the contrast between the desires of the flesh and the desires of the Spirit. 

“But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh,” Paul says in verse 16. “For the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for these are opposed to each other, to keep you from doing the things you want to do.”

What an apt description of the Christian life—a tug-of-war between the “desires of the flesh,” those second-nature, almost instinctive actions that fall short of God’s standard, and the “desires of the Spirit,” those outpourings of our reconciliation to God and conformity to his will. 

So, why does it matter so much that joy is on this list? For one, it reinforces the importance—the necessity—of joy in the life of the believer. In our 1 John study, we talked a lot about “litmus tests” that would show who the followers of Jesus were. Paul tells us here that joy is one of those litmus tests. 

Those who claim to follow Christ, who are truly indwelled with the Holy Spirit, will practice joy. It will flow out of them. It is as important as love, patience, faithfulness, self-control. It is the antithesis to sexual immorality, jealousy, fits of anger, envy. 

I think, at times, we allow joy to be shrouded by guilt and shame, always assuming that there’s some “higher” or “better” virtue, some measure of asceticism, that we’re sacrificing. But the words in Nehemiah and the exhortation of Paul—and many other instances throughout scripture—are reminders that joy in and of itself is a good thing, a part of the Christian life that cannot be ignored. 

But why is that?

The purpose of joy

True joy will always emanate from the Creator in order to reflect glory back onto him. 

That’s why he gives it as a gift to us—not because we deserve it, but because it is essential to who he is. Because he loves us. Because he wants us to participate in that love.

And that’s why it’s our responsibility, as the light of the world, to cultivate joy in our own lives. 

As Paul demonstrates, a life driven by the flesh swallows up joy, hope, love, virtue, like a black hole swallows light. Isn’t that an apt description of life apart from Christ? Don’t you see the despair in the world around you, full of individuals desperately searching for fulfillment, for goodness, for true joy? 

Ask God to open your eyes to the joy in your life. Bask in it. Take a photo of the moment or write it down. Celebrate the countless opportunities that God gives you to point glory back to him. Thank him for the gifts he lavishes on us simply as an overflow of his love. And be a living representative of the Spirit in a world desperate for it. 

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