Dominica 9 post Pentecosten
Evening, 16 July 2016
Church of St John the
Evangelist / Agawam
[A]nd it means that he who thinks he stands firmly should beware of a
fall (1 Cor 10:12, Knox translation).
This weekend, I would like to take
for our study, of all things, joy. This may seem odd at first: the proper texts
for today’s Mass do not seem to justify such a theme: we have warnings from St
Paul and hard words and deeds for Jerusalem from our blessed Lord.
And yet the spiritual fruit of joy
makes two appearances in today’s Mass, if in subtle ways that we might miss or
take for granted. As you know, in fact, at every Holy Mass—except at a
requiem—Ps 42 is recited during the Prayers at the Foot of the Altar, in which
we sing: Introibo at altare Dei: ad Deum
qui laetificat iuventutem meam. Yes, every Holy Mass is an occasion for
spiritual joy because we are granted the immense privilege of appearing before
God in the most solemn, intimate way a human being can on this earth.—The
Eucharist and the Mass are about divine intimacy, which is why we desire that
every human being should become a Catholic, to share our joy at this wonderful
mystery and gift. When Moses returned from Mt Sinai, his face shown with
radiance;[1] and yet here at the Mass,
there is something greater than Moses here.[2] You and I can always use
the reminder about being sure that our lives tell forth this joy; we who love
tradition do well never to allow ourselves to forget that.
The second reference to joy in
today’s Mass comes at the offertory antiphon: “Iustitiæ Domini rectæ, lætificantes corda;” it continues, “and his
judgments are sweeter than honey and honeycomb for your servant keeps them.”
Justice and judgment are somehow, mysteriously, in fact, sweet to us and give
us joy. But what is the nature of joy?
Joy, as enumerated by St Paul, is one
of the fruits of the Holy Spirit.[3] Now a fruit is an
outgrowth or production of some activity. Without going on at length, for the
time being it is enough to say that if we have received and exercise the gifts of the Holy Spirit—wisdom,
understanding, counsel, knowledge, fortitude, piety, fear of the Lord—then the
fruits follow. So, joy is an effect of something already in us; it is not
something we can muster out of nowhere; it depends on other habits of soul.[4] This is an important point
to realize, because joy is not the same as humor. Humor and laughter may at
times spring from joy, but joy is deeper and more primary than any of its
expressions. The laugher and humor of the world comes more from satire and
ridicule than it does from any sense of joy.—This must be so, because anyone
who does not have God has no reason to be joyful. Laughter, then, and frivolity
are not evils in themselves, but they are often disguises of spiritual
darkness. The comedians and entertainers
laugh for entirely different reasons than the saints do.
Where is the source of the joy of the
saints? Joy, you see, is most directly
related to charity, to love. Love for us means divine friendship. As one
spiritual writer put it:
The saints are always great lovers; and love floods
our hearts with the sunshine of joy, particularly when that love is for a
divine friend. . . . From the first moment of this divine friendship, our
Friend is always and intimately with us: as Lord and Creator to His creature,
as the object of our knowledge and love, and by that extremely intimate presence
by grace which enables us to live His very life.[5]
And if we understand that, we
understand love; and if our love is true and active, we have joy. So, joy is
not about having a certain optimistic attitude toward life; it is not about
being un-serious; it is not about being light-hearted or playful—joy is
directly related to the vibrancy and depth of our charity, our love.
With that in mind, we return to the
text quoted above from St Paul: “he who thinks he stands firmly should beware
of a fall.” Itaque qui se existimat
stare, videat ne cadat. Joy therefore can serve two very important
functions in the spiritual life. First, it can be a kind of litmus test of the
depth and maturity of our love. If we are not authentically joyful, our love is
laboring under some weakness. Maybe we do not trust God sufficiently; perhaps
we are denying him some sacrifice; perhaps we are slow in our patience toward
others; or what have you. In point of fact, the entire spiritual life is a journey toward greater purity in our
love; joy is a signpost along the way.
Secondly, however, joy serves as an
element of balancing. Sorrow is by no means incompatible with joy. (That is
another homily unto itself.) We might for instance be legitimately sorrowful
over our past sins and the sins of others, because sin impedes our friendship
with God. Joy, however, prevents loving sorrow from becoming sadness. As our
spiritual writer says,
When love concentrates
on irritations, defect, sorrow in the life of love, then love is not only cheating
itself of joy that belongs to it, it is preparing the way for the destruction
of that love. The same is true of divine Friendship. When we concentrate on the sorrows, misery and
misfortunes of life we are doing much more than cheating ourselves of love’s
joy; we are preparing for a flight from divine friendship, for a horror of
divine things, for the time when the flesh shall completely prevail over
spirit.[6]
Dire predictions—but if they are
possible (and they are!) then we see that joy
is preventative medicine. It protects our legitimate sorrow, keeps it
healthy and mature and balanced. Joy also prevents us from taking ourselves too
seriously, thereby guarding against pride in the spiritual life, that deadly
thing.
In the end, the presence of joy in
the soul helps us to be obedient to the Apostle when he writes, “beware of a
fall.” Joy keeps us steady and aware by showing forth a purer love, for God and
neighbor. If we remember the divine friendship, we will have much joy, which is
why the wisdom of the Church has placed joy at the beginning of the Holy Mass: Introibo ad altare Dei: ad Deum qui
laetificat iuventutem meam. Be joyful, therefore, friends: for the soul in
the state of grace enjoys the loving friendship of God! On the other hand, if
we have no joy,
If we insist upon remaining unconscious of the
goodness of God within us [as all lukewarm, sad Christians do], of course we
deprive ourselves of the radical joy that gives all Christian life its flavor.
Consciousness is the minimum requirement for the enjoyment of any good; we can
play dead if we like, but then we must not complain that we cannot enjoy the
lilies heaped about the coffin.[7]
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