A Lenten Experience: Joyfulness

Like Stephen Daedalus (James Joyce, Ulysses), we take refuge in big fearful words: big words that speak of generosity, peace, or justice and make us so unhappy as we realise that presumption underlines them. Hence, “the goal of our instruction is love from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith” (1 Timothy 1,5). Challenging, because it reminds us of the need to listen to our hearts. 

Listening is a learning experience that isn’t easy to realise, and yet, it enlightens what we mean by prayer. Superfluous words hinder the Spirit’s stirrings within our hearts and mute conscience’s challenging gaze, sealing its irrelevancy as our babbling muffles our hearts’ joyfulness. 

Words prove hollow unless they reflect a ‘renewed’ heart focused on the Magister through repentance. Lacking this renewal, a void intervenes and suffocates our joyfulness. Emptiness! And yet, joyfulness signs our path as indicated by the Magister: “I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete” (John 15,11). 

As a community, we are obliged to witness the fruit of the Spirit: “love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness” (Galatians 5,22). These nominated qualities distinguish us from others. Joy is a source of our strength, rather than a feeling shattered by encountered difficulties: it not only sustains but also inspires us to share our commitment to Christ with others without expecting anything in return.   

Joyfulness does not mean foolishness: it reaffirms the need for ‘self-emptiness’ to strengthen our identity: “that is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12,10). We do not grieve, for the Lord’s joy is our strength (Nehemiah 8,10).

Joy is an integral part of our coming after the Magister, reminding us of the blessings we have in him, allowing us to witness him not by what we say, but by who we are in God’s sight because, “You have made known to me the paths of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence” (Acts, 2,28). As we consolidate this experience, solitude flourishes.


Martin 


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