Uncovering Joy: Tales of Everyday Urban Spirituality (24 of 24)

Uncovering Joy - Whatever 

“For I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that the gospel that was proclaimed by me is not of human origin; for I did not receive it from a human source, nor was it taught it, but I received it though a revelation of Jesus Christ. You have heard, no doubt, of my earlier life in Judaism. I was violently persecuting the church of God and was trying to destroy it. I advanced in Judaism beyond many among my people of the same age, for I was far more zealous for the tradition of my ancestors. But when God, who had set me apart before I was born and called me through his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son to me, so that I might proclaim him among the Gentiles, I did not confer with any human being, nor did I go up to Jerusalem to those who were already apostles before me, but I went away at once into Arabia, and afterwards I returned to Damascus.” (Galatians 1:11-17) 

Joy is a gift. It all comes to be in the middle of everything that is going on around us. Therefore, it is not difficult to uncover joy. In fact, joy is just waiting to burst into the room and take everyone to a new realm of being - the Reign of God. There is one problem. The room can be so full of our agendas, egos, desires, and expectations that joy cannot be seen or heard. We can be so consumed by creating the life we want for ourselves that we miss the presence of the joy of the Reign of God even when it is standing in the same room with us. 

Again and again I have said that I am not a person of great discipline when it comes to practicing meditation or a life of prayer. And yet, God doesn’t let people like me miss out on the party that is available through contemplation. I truly believe that God’s Spirit of Life has a way of backing into us and bumping us and making a bit of unwanted noise so that we will turn - even if just for a brief moment - and lose control of everything we claim to control. I’m sure it happens to all of us. In fact I would go so far as to say this Spirit of Life is always throwing things into the day to help us see God’s Reign a bit more clearly - even if just for moments at a time. 

When I am presiding at worship in our congregation - even though we practice what some have called a joyfully-low, high liturgy - I am the one wearing a robe and the stole of my ordination. Even a visitor would have a way of knowing that I must be a leader in the community - liturgical garb has that poke-me-in-the-eye presence. As a presiding minister in worship I try hard to keep the flow of our historical liturgy moving in a way that is respectful and yet down-to-earth. Too often, liturgy can create an atmosphere of inhospitality simply by the way it is led and the way we carry ourselves. Having said that, I find that there is a wide open area between being too loose and too rigid in the liturgy. 

Sometimes what we do and how we do it is all about the individual leader. I would contend that both the informal leader and the formal leader of worship can play around in the world of individual egos more than in the realm of inviting the gathered community to play around in the world of praise and promise that is worship. Some might say that I can be a bit of a control freak when it comes to how we move through the liturgy. Other people may say I can be a bit too relaxed and irreverent. I tend to agree - with both. However the story is told, gifts have been given to me that shake me and stir me and remind me that I am not in control - nor will I ever be able to be in control. 

There is a woman named Amy. She has been in the congregation well before I arrived almost thirty years ago. Her parents are dear and devote saints within the congregation. Amy has Down’s syndrome. Her father and mother have always taught her to be polite, respectful, considerate, and they helped her learn the patterns of regular community life. Over the years, Amy has preferred to eliminate my title when she refers to me. It is not Pastor Debelak. It is not even Pastor Al. It has always been ‘Al’ or ‘Allan.’ Therefore a greeting will be ‘Hi Al.’ For years her father has tried to encourage her simply to call me Pastor. In the face of all the years of faithful, parental coaching, it is always  Al or Allan.

Through the years, Amy has talked to me about my daughter and continues to ask how she is doing even years after my daughter went away to college and then into her career. When my mother was ill she would ask about her. When my mother died, Amy would tell me how sorry she was about my mother’s death - for years. After my divorce she made sure she was there for me with a few comments and a pat on my back. Within all of her repetition I have found that I am renewed. I chuckle. I beam. I find that my heart becomes open to more than what I have ever expected. She is a gift 

This brings me back to the liturgy and being surprised and having joy spring right into the midst of things. Most Sundays, when the gospel is about to be read, the congregation stands as the gospel acclamation is sung by the people. The crucifer leads the gospel procession out into the middle of the gathered community. As the Presiding minister, I am last in line with the Assisting minister holding the lesson book for the reading. Once we are in position for the reading, I step back from the book and make this kind of announcement: “The Gospel according to Luke.” Within seconds, the congregation responds with: “Glory to you O Lord.” 

Now, let me step back for just a moment. For years we have tried to teach the congregation that simple Gospel Acclamation along with the one that follows the conclusion of the reading: “Praise to you O Christ.” Who knows why these kinds of responses take time to become a natural part of our worship life. And yet - in time - it has worked out. Now we have the announcement of the gospel and then - with that short pause - the response. Yes! 

Just when I can feel so good about having something “work” as the worship team has planned, joy is uncovered and it is called Amy. Within that pause - that very short pause - there comes a voice that breaks through the formality. For all who hear that voice, there is a corporate smile that stretches across the nave. In that moment - in that pause - in that slight bit of silence - in what some see as a solemn moment - in those fleeting seconds when I wonder if the “official” response to the announcement of the gospel will take place - we are all reminded of the essence of all that we do and say. Amy offers her own response to the announcement of the Gospel. It is an uncensored and uninhibited: “Whatever Allan.” The first time I heard it, I came quite close to losing it. I had to take a deep breath and settle back into the pages of that big lesson book being held by the Assisting minister whose eyebrows rose and eyes opened wide with joy.

“Whatever Allan” is a blessed reminder to consider the flowers of the field and the birds of the air. I am reminded of the power of the Holy Spirit that can and does spill out the power of God’s creative wind at any time and in any place so that we do not become consumed by our egos or patterns or lists of things that must be this way and not that way. That which is about to be shared is the reading of the Good News within the gospel lesson. All else is simply “Whatever Allan.” This gospel lesson is the power of the day that transforms lives and lifts us into visions of the Reign of God in Scripture. It is a word that spreads out through the congregation even as the words are being spoken. The congregation is standing to honor the reading in the midst of the community and all eyes are turned toward the cross that marks the place of the reading. Amy’s response cuts to the reason for our focused attention. It is not the robes, the procession, the processional cross, or the formal announcement of the lesson, it is the Good News. All else is simply “Whatever Allan.” 

There are moments when I am so caught off guard by this weekly response that I have come close to tears. In that moment so close to the reading of the gospel and in the middle of all the gathered saints, we are reminded of the joy that is not only about to be uncovered in the Scripture - but also the joy that God makes incarnate in, with, and under all that is ordinary among us. Those tears stir up deep emotions - long-held emotions. Amy’s voice cracks open the shell I use to keep myself safe from them. There, in that innocent response, it is as though the Reigning Lord, Jesus, is really present. The tears are, for me, like the plea: “Come, Lord, Jesus. Come!” Come and open up my heart. Come and let me have a glimpse of the life of your Reign. Come let these words be like seeds planted in my heart that your love and mercy and grace and forgiveness will burst forth within my life. 

When I look at all the work being done within our congregation and out in the community by the followers of Jesus among us, I am overwhelmed with joy. When I look around and see the compassion and acts of mercy and kindness and mutual consolation that takes place among us, I am overwhelmed with joy. When I see people walking through barriers and biases and across boundaries for the sake of others, I am overwhelmed with joy. And then, in the middle of all the Sunday morning worship that follows a wonderful historic pattern and provides the words and music and visuals that are meant to linger with us and shape us throughout the week, joy is available within a solo voice that makes us vulnerable to the word of God’s Reign that is our life: “Whatever Allan.” 

The day may come when I will be at Amy’s funeral or she will be at mine. In my faithful imagination, I hope that the congregation - upon hearing the announcement of the gospel lesson - will boldly insert “Whatever ____!” It is most certain that joy - overwhelming joy will fill our hearts and our lives. We are so enriched by the simplicity of sainthood. We are so in need of those voices that appropriately poke us with such truthfulness, it creates laughter and tears. Long-winded narratives of what we have or have not been able to do are nothing more than rubbish. We are people who are always in the presence of joy being uncovered without having to leave the ordinary and common and the life that is at hand.

TRRR