For the last three years, I have enjoyed the task of writing the narration for my church’s yearly Christmas program. Some years I’m prouder of what I write for that than others, but there are some things I keep in there year after year because the sentiment is so beautiful. One of them is a letter written on Christmas Eve in 1513 by a man named Fra Giovanni Giacondo:
“I salute you! There is nothing I can give you which you have not; but there is much, that, while I cannot give, you can take. No heaven can come to us unless our hearts find rest in it today. Take Heaven. No peace lies in the future which is not hidden in this present instant. Take Peace. The gloom of the world is but a shadow; behind it, yet, within our reach, is joy. Take Joy. And so . . . I greet you, with the prayer that for you, now and forever, the day breaks and the shadows flee away.” Without getting too philosophical about it, I see so much in this little paragraph that can help us get through these dark times. Heaven, peace, and joy are not passive experiences, but things we have to search for earnestly. When I mentioned the Danish concept of hygge on Monday, I made note of how hygge is intentional. Taking joy isn’t about ignoring how bad things are. Happiness which is achieved by ignoring the negative has a tendency to ring hollow. Taking joy involves seeing the world as it is and choosing to focus on what good can be found instead of the darkness around it. It’s about focusing on what’s worth fighting for. Being intentional about taking joy is most important when it is most difficult to do. It’s very telling to me that Jesus, the night before embarking on the darkest day of His eternal life, deliberately carved out one last evening to enjoy with His disciples. I love that part of the story, because it shows what the stakes really were for Jesus as He headed into the crucifixion: the people He had come to cherish. He wanted to be with them one last time before the world would change forever. To take joy in the present situation, remind yourself what this is all about: We are staying home to protect human lives. I have concrete people in mind when I think about this, and I pray for them nearly daily. Some have been circulating a meme that says, “Your grandparents had to go to war; you are being asked to sit on a couch. You can do this.” What makes this different from going to war is that it’s harder to feel like you’re doing something to help while sitting still; the idea is so abstract. By thinking of a specific person you love who you don’t want to see infected, it gets more concrete. To make this passive battle of social distancing even more worth it, call that person. If this is about saving lives, actively love the people attached to those lives. Enjoy that person’s company now so that if, God forbid, they do get infected, you have no regrets. Be intentional about it. Meanwhile, take peace and joy wherever you can find it.
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AuthorJillian Lutes is the youth pastor at West Covina Hills Seventh-day Adventist Church. Archives
May 2020
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