“Is it OK to laugh when sadness surrounds us?” (p 10)
This is a question I’m guessing we’ve
all wondered about at one point or another. I’m sure we could each name a
contrasting set of circumstances like they do in the book, like Kate’s mom
laughing at her “delicious frozen rocks” in the hospital as her mother was dying (pp 9-10).
The inescapable truth is, “Joy and sorrow simply coexist” (p 10).
Kate and Jessica recall the
stories of Jesus’ first miracle of turning plain, old water into the finest
Bordeaux at the wedding in Cana while under the thumb of the Romans (John 2:1-11).
When he was surrounded by grumbling bellies, Jesus made sure there were leftovers
(John 6:1-15, Matthew 14:13-21). And when he was resurrected from the dead,
Jesus appeared to the disciples and asked for something to eat (Luke 24:30-32).
Even in difficult circumstances, Jesus was “a man who enjoyed a
feast” (p 11). If it's good enough for Jesus, then can't it be good enough for us too?
When things heated up between
Russia and Ukraine and became a part of our daily living through the news and
social media, I heard folks asking this same question: how can we rejoice about
things in our lives when we can see the suffering of so many?
I love the simple acknowledgment that all kinds of emotions can coexist at the same time. You can be full of joy and full of sorrow. You can grieve and delight. (I’ve seen all of those happen at funerals – you grieve the loss but delight in the memories and the chance to gather with family and friends.)
Romans 12:15
reminds us to “Rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn.”
Sometimes that means doing it at the same time, like when my friend had one daughter announce she was pregnant while the other whisper their second
fertility treatment had failed at the same time.
It’s an occupational hazard for
pastors that we run into a lot of sorrow and grief. And sometimes it is the most
absurd things that keep me afloat. (If only you could see the frivolous things
I watch on YouTube or the podcasts I listen to when my soul is feeling heavy!)
They say in the book, “ … there is a discipline to this kind of joy, especially when we’re not feeling especially cheery” (p 14).
I wonder what
would happen if we could work a bit of joy or absurdity into our regula
so that it’s already an ingrained discipline the next time we need it!
Perhaps my favorite part of this
chapter is from “A Prayer for Finding Joy in Sorrow” on page 13. I’ve changed
it from the singular to the plural: “God, [we] can’t deny it, the way that sorrow catches up with [us] and forces
[us] to pay attention. There is so much to grieve, so much to lament in the
world, in [our] life, in the lives of those [we] love. You have shown [us]
again and again that I can look sorrow in the face, take its hand and talk things
over, because it shows [us] what [we] love” (p 13).
I really love that last line, how
looking sorrow in the face reveals what we love the most. That re-framing makes
sorrow feel a little more bearable, don’t you think?
Pastor Allison
I’m curious: have you asked this question or has someone asked it of you? If
so, how did you answer it?
When you find yourself in this
kind of situation, what do you do? Do you give in to the sorrow and let it
drown out the joy?
What sources of joy or absurdity (like
the list on p 11) do you draw on in times like this?
Let me know in the comments! Or, show us you did your regula by just saying, "I did it!"