THE VILLAGE ILWIDIOT
Walt Wiltschek
“The meek shall obtain fresh joy in the Lord, and the neediest people shall exult in the Holy One of Israel.” —Isaiah 29:19, NRSVUE
I’ve long thought that listening to Shawn Kirchner sing is like eating a scoop of gelato on a warm day: smooth, pleasurable, and utterly satisfying. The delightful flavors burst on your ears rather than on your tongue in this case, but the effect is similar. Joy.
Last month, I was able to attend part of the reunion concert by Kindling—a Brethren musical ensemble that includes Peg Lehman, Lee Krähenbühl, and Steve Kinzie in addition to Shawn—hosted by the Highland Avenue congregation in Elgin. The fellowship hall was packed. The atmosphere, with Christmas-style lights and café tables, was magical. And as the chords and cadences washed over the rapt audience, the joy was palpable.
It's often noted by theologians that joy is a rather different thing that mere happiness, which can come or go in the emotions of the moment. Joy roosts deeper in our souls, a warming flame that grows when it encounters kindred spirits and meaningful experiences.
For too many, that flame can be extinguished, or nearly so. Challenges and burdens, heavy headlines and suffocating grief suck the air from whatever embers remain. That can occur for us both individually and corporately, as struggles arise at various levels of our lives.
One of the great gifts we can give to one another and to our world is to find ways to bring more joy into those spaces. We don’t brush aside the pain and distress others are feeling, of course, but we hold out the light. “I will hold the Christ-light for you, in the night-time of your fear,” as one of our beloved hymns says. We stand as living testaments that joy exists, against all odds, and it can unfurl sumptuously at any given moment.
The poet Li-Young Lee, after describing the experience of eating a fresh roadside peach (“From Blossoms,” 1986), concludes: “There are days we live as if death were nowhere in the background; from joy to joy to joy, from wing to wing, from blossom to blossom to impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.”
May you experience some joy blossoming in your life this week, joy enough to sing and share.
“The meek shall obtain fresh joy in the Lord, and the neediest people shall exult in the Holy One of Israel.” —Isaiah 29:19, NRSVUE
I’ve long thought that listening to Shawn Kirchner sing is like eating a scoop of gelato on a warm day: smooth, pleasurable, and utterly satisfying. The delightful flavors burst on your ears rather than on your tongue in this case, but the effect is similar. Joy.
Last month, I was able to attend part of the reunion concert by Kindling—a Brethren musical ensemble that includes Peg Lehman, Lee Krähenbühl, and Steve Kinzie in addition to Shawn—hosted by the Highland Avenue congregation in Elgin. The fellowship hall was packed. The atmosphere, with Christmas-style lights and café tables, was magical. And as the chords and cadences washed over the rapt audience, the joy was palpable.
It's often noted by theologians that joy is a rather different thing that mere happiness, which can come or go in the emotions of the moment. Joy roosts deeper in our souls, a warming flame that grows when it encounters kindred spirits and meaningful experiences.
For too many, that flame can be extinguished, or nearly so. Challenges and burdens, heavy headlines and suffocating grief suck the air from whatever embers remain. That can occur for us both individually and corporately, as struggles arise at various levels of our lives.
One of the great gifts we can give to one another and to our world is to find ways to bring more joy into those spaces. We don’t brush aside the pain and distress others are feeling, of course, but we hold out the light. “I will hold the Christ-light for you, in the night-time of your fear,” as one of our beloved hymns says. We stand as living testaments that joy exists, against all odds, and it can unfurl sumptuously at any given moment.
The poet Li-Young Lee, after describing the experience of eating a fresh roadside peach (“From Blossoms,” 1986), concludes: “There are days we live as if death were nowhere in the background; from joy to joy to joy, from wing to wing, from blossom to blossom to impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.”
May you experience some joy blossoming in your life this week, joy enough to sing and share.
<< Home