I Have Found Joy

Over a decade ago I was spending my first summer in seminary serving as an intern at Davidson UMC in North Carolina. It was a wonderful experience all around. The senior pastor at the time was really into the Enneagram, and I was fine being a guinea pig. I also like those kinds of “tests.” So I took it, and my results made me angry. Actually, I am still confused about my results because I have heard different explanations as to the interpretation of the Enneagram. But as I recall, I am a seven - The Joyful Person. And that pissed me right off. 

I wanted to get “wise” or “loving” or something that did some good. Not joyful. What the hell is that? I thought it was self-referential as well. I mean, if I’m mad at being labeled “the joyful person” then it stands to reason the test is wrong. So it sat with me for a while. And the more I considered it, I think the test was accurate. 

There has always been something within me that seeks joy. I think the confusion I had is that joy is not the same thing as happiness—especially pointless, saccharine sentimentality. I hate that shit. I don’t seek or find most things cute, particularly when it comes to faith, God, and all that jazz. I have moved away from liking/wanting crosses generally. But if I get one, I want a crucifix or one that is plain wood. Something decorative and pretty makes no sense to me. I guess to me it’s about beauty and the way I see it beauty and joy seem to go hand in hand. 

I also think that joy has an urgency attached to it. This is why I have developed a total intolerance to wasting anyone’s time, especially my own. If I answer the phone and it is someone selling something I hang up immediately. “That’s so rude!” you might scream at me. I don’t care. It’s rude to waste my time and that person’s with the few seconds of explanation/haggling that will likely need to occur for you to feel I’m less rude. And the end result is the same. If I want to buy something, I’ll let you know. Don’t worry about getting in touch with me. If there are meetings that are pointless or become so, I don’t go to them or I leave them. This might imperil my job eventually, but I think I have a pretty good alibi since John Wesley had a strong stance against the wasting of time. I drive really fast, and I hate stoplights worse than grim death. In fact, the two are now the same for me. 

For the past few months, I have been in this fog. It’s mostly a “what the hell is actually happening?” situation. It seems to me that America is pursuing a time warp back to more racist and sexist times. Those with power are clinging to this longing for a Mayberry existence that wasn’t then and isn’t now in touch with reality. There are plenty who will do all within their power to slow the inevitable progress of a multicultural society. And yes, they have lots of money and influence. But, as Yeats put it, the center cannot hold. Something indeed is slouching toward Bethlehem, and it’s an awakening. People (more of them at least) are calling out the bullshit and those who peddle it (especially for a living). So when a close friend of mine feels that a couple of old, racist brothers who have more money than God are going to actually run the world, I used to get really depressed. But now I just laugh. Because I read a book by Archbishop Desmond Tutu to my son tonight. And in the world Tutu writes about - the world of Easter, there is no stopping joy. Joy will win.