Ode to Joy

Here are some of the things that bring me Joy.

Being with my wife.

Chocolate Chip Cookies.

Coming home.

Completing a project.

Dogs.

Doing my best.

Eating a good meal.

Having a good conversation.

Hearing a good joke.

Helping someone.

Kittens.

Listening to good music.

Peanut butter.

Pizza.

Playing trumpet.

Pretzels.

Puppies.

Reading.

Seeing people being happy.

Sitting near a lake or the sea.

Spending time with my kids.

Taking photos.

Teaching.

Walking in the woods or on a beach.

Watching a good movie.

Writing my thoughts.

There are lots of things that do not bring me joy, but they are not the topic here. An old hymn refrain promises, “Joy in the Lord,” but I’m not entirely sure what that means. Believing can also bring sorrow. Ecclesiastes 1:18 warns, “For with much wisdom comes much sorrow; the more knowledge, the more grief.” The Christmas story brings “tidings of comfort and joy.” Life is a mixed bag. Joy is part of it, to be sure, but we all wade through our share of drudgery and defeat. We all “pay our dues.” We all “do what we gotta do.” If I want to have fun playing the trumpet, I must practice. And sometimes practice is tedious, not joyful. If I want to take good pictures, I must learn how my camera works and again, practice. If I want good relationships with my wife and children, I must be available, accepting, and adaptable.

Joy sometimes has a price. Ask the child in a manger who gave up everything to become “God with us.” C.S. Lewis wrote about being “surprised by joy” just when he thought it was not possible for the God of the universe to care about him. It seems being part of something infinitely larger than ourselves leads to joy. Carl Sagan found joy in being part of the cosmos, a microscopic piece of “star stuff” living on a tiny blue dot. There is something to be said about perspective, I suppose.

Most of us are beings who, when all is said and done, have a relatively short list of relatively simple things that bring us joy. Notice I didn’t offer things like, “sailing my yacht” or “flying my spaceship.” I don’t know if there are yachts and spaceships in heaven, but I certainly hope dogs will be there. It seems to me they will be essential to my eternal joy.

Joy in a spiritual sense goes beyond happiness, pleasure, or delight. Beethoven wrote a Symphony based on Schiller’s “Ode to Joy.” According to Schiller, joy can be found in heroism, brotherhood, abiding friendships, a loving wife, nature and its creator. Schiller wrote, “Joy, bright spark of divinity, Daughter of Elysium.” Perhaps joy calls us to revise our ideas about what matters most. Heroes lay down their lives for their friends and comrades. Friends and spouses stick together through thick and thin. Elysium comes to us when we realize that love is the greatest joy. All other joys are but shadows in comparison.

During the Christmas season, many of us pursue artificial joys: Eggnog, chocolates, Christmas lights, parties, desserts, gift giving, and so on. There is nothing wrong with these things, of course. They are harmless joys. I am reminded that all our joys, even my little list, are but diversions on the path to real joy. Schiller’s poem was an attempt to describe joy. Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony was another. One reason we have art is to express the ineffable. Perhaps we can’t explain joy because our experience is as limited as our words. The closest I’ve come to joy is when I’ve felt it in the silent night of my soul, when I’ve been most open to the wonders of creation. Then everything else in my life fades away and for a moment I can sense a “bright spark of divinity.”