The Duty of Joy
Be like the bird that, halting in her flight,
Awhile on boughs too slight, Feels them give way beneath her, and yet sings,
Knowing she hath wings.
Victor Hugo.
They are in the habit of saying in the East that in India the flowers yield no fragrance, the birds do not sing, and the women never smile. In a sense, it is almost literally true. Flowers, even of the richest hues, give out but little perfume; birds of brightest plumage utter only piercing notes instead of sweet songs; and the faces of the women are sad as they go about, enduring their sorrowful lot. All this is suggestive of the spiritual condition of a country where the gospel of Christ is not known.
Christianity brings joy. The message of the angel to the shepherds was, “I bring you good tidings of g*eat joy, which shall be to all people.” Joy was born into the world that Christmas night when Jesus began his life on the earth. He came to bless men, to comfort sorrow, to open prisons, to lift the lost up to heaven. Jesus talked much about joy. He had a wondrous joy of his own. He was called a man of sorrows — never was there any other sorrow like unto his sorrow. Yet all the while there was in his heart a deep joy which nothing could disturb. Before he went away he bequeathed his joy to his disciples, and prayed that their joy might be full.
Christians should have joy. But Christian joy is not happiness, as the world understands that word. Happiness is on the surface. It depends upon things that happen, and is easily disturbed. During a great battle the soldiers noticed, perched on a tree, a bird which sang whenever the roar of battle was hushed for a few moments. But when the terrific noise began again, the bird was silent. So it is with earthly happiness; it sings in the brief pauses of life’s struggles, but is silent while the strife goes on.
Christian joy, however, is too deep to be affected by this world’s occurrences. It is like those fresh-water springs beside the sea, over which the brackish tides pour, but whose waters are sweet as ever when the tides recede. It is joy which the world can neither give nor take away. It lives in the heart under the bitterest sorrows, and sings its songs in the darkest nights.
Joy is not merely a privilege which a Christian may enjoy — it is also a duty. It is a fruit of the Spirit, and not a mere accident of temperament, or a mere index of experience. Christian life should always be victorious. We are to be more than conquerors through him that loved us. The experience told so exuberantly in the following lines ought not to be impossible many days in any truly victorious life, —
“Give me joy, give me joy, O my friends! For once in my life has a day Passed over my head and out of my sight, And my soul has naught to unsay.
THE DUTY OF JOY. I?
No querulous word to the fair little child
Who drew me from study to play; No fretful reply to the hundred and one
Who questioned me, gravely and gay; No word to the beggar I fain would take back,
No word to the debtor at bay; No angry retorts to those who misjudge,
And desire not a nay, but a yea: No word, though I know I remember them all,
Which I would, if I could, e’er unsay. Give me joy, give me joy, O my friends!
For the patience that lasted all day.”
Christians are to be light, and light is a symbol of joy. Gloom, therefore, in the life of any friend of the Master is a contradiction of Christlikeness. It is our duty to be cheerful, joyful, songful, whatever the circumstances or experiences may be. We should never yield to discouragement, to depression, to disheartenment. If we let the darkness into our soul, it will darken our eyes, and mar the beauty of our life. Discouragement is dangerous. It robs a man of strength and skill, and makes him faint in the struggle. It chills his heart, takes the enthusiasm out of his life, and imperils all his career. One of the firm resolves of every man should be, never to be discouraged, since discouragement is defeat.
Then we owe it to the world, also, to live a life of victorious joy. We are to be a blessing to others, and there is no other way in which we can do so much for those about us as by being habitually joyful. If we go about with sad words on our lips, disheartening words, we make it harder for others to live heroically and worthily. The influence of one depressed spirit on others cannot be estimated. Their burdens seem heavier, the road seems steeper to them, and the struggle seems sorer, because our hands hang down, the light fades from our eye, and our lips speak discouragingly.
But if we go through life, singing happy songs as we go, songs of joy and gladness, they will become inspiration in the hearts of those who hear them. Men will grow braver, hope will come out of discouragement, and defeat will be changed to victory. Burdens will seem lighter, battles less fierce, and tasks easier, as the joyous notes of our songs ring out on the air. Ella Wheeler Wilcox writes, —
“Smile upon the troubled pilgrims
Whom you pass and meet; Frowns are thorns, and smiles are blossoms,
Oft, to weary feet.
Do not make the way seem harder
By a sullen face;
Smile a little, smile a little,
Brighten up the place.”
We have no right to make life harder for others. It is a sin against humanity to do so. The law of love forbids it. He who makes it harder for a brother to live nobly, and do his work well, has sinned against one of Christ’s little ones — therefore, against Christ himself. We dare not go about among our fellows saying discouraging things, dispiriting things; for, if we do, we are imperilling those whose burdens are already as heavy as they can bear. One discouraging word may cause them to sink down and perish.
The law of love bids us bear one another’s burdens, and there is no other way in which
i we can do this so effectively as by living a life of victorious joy ourselves. He who goes among men throughout the day with glad heart and cheerful face, speaking to every one he meets some encouraging word, saying something uplifting in every ear, is a wonderful inspirer of strength, courage, and hope, in men. He is a divine minister of good to others. He makes every one a little braver and stronger. Weary plodders on the dusty way pluck up fresh energy after meeting him. Fainting ones awake to new courage when his hopeful words have fallen upon their ears. The influence of such a habitual encourager can never be measured. It is a noble thing to live thus.
There are few lessons which are needed more than this teaching that joy is a duty. The mass of Christian people seem to pay no heed to it. There really are not many joyful Christians. It would seem as if a large number of them think there is a virtue in sadness and gloom. They make no attempt to live victoriously, but yield to every discouragement, and allow it to get into their heart. Even the little ills, which full-grown men should be ashamed to be affected by, they allow to master them. Even strong men are made wretched by a slight indisposition, by a little disappointment, or by hearing of some other’s success.
Then, what is worse, they not only let their own spirits be disturbed by these trivial incidents of pain or inconvenience, but they must needs make every one they meet share their miserable dispiriting. They carry the dark shadow of their unhappy feeling on their face. They chafe and fret when things do not go well. They pout and sulk like spoiled children when they do not get their own way. If they have not slept well, or if they have a headache, or a cold, or a discomfort of any kind, however trivial, they compel every one who salutes them courteously throughout the day to listen to the recital of all the tiresome story of their maladies.
Could any habit be more utterly selfish than this? Do persons imagine that the neighbors who inquire kindly after their health have any pleasure in listening to such an unwholesome tale of woe, often about nothing but some imaginary ailment? Does any one think that he has a right to pour such a burden of complaining into any human ear? Every noble man is ready to extend sympathy in any case of real trouble; but there is no call for sympathy in such ailments as make up the staple of the complaints which many of us have to tell our neighbors about. This is one of the human habits concerning which it were well if some power would “the giftie gie us to see oursel’s as others see us.” We only tire out our friends, and make it harder for them to live, while at the same time we add to our own wretchedness. For such miseries will grow if we nurse them, until by and by they become giants, and bind us hand and foot in hopeless bondage.
Far better is it for one to seal his lips resolutely and persistently against all such morbid talk, and speak only glad, joyous, encouraging things. This is one of the childish things we should put away as we become men, if we find ourselves indulging in it. It is unmanly and it is most unlovely. It is a grievous sin against others to inflict upon them our miserable hypochondrias. We should be scatterers of light, not of darkness; of good, not of evil; of inspiring influence, not of that which can only make life harder for every one we meet.
Well would it be for us all if we learned the lesson that joy is a duty. God wants us to be happy; and if we live as we should live, we shall be happy. This is not saying that we shall have no sorrow, or that life will be always easy and pleasant for us; but we may at least be always overcomers. We have reason to rejoice, whatever our circumstances and our condition may be. There is an inner life, a life hid with Christ in God, which should be unconquerable in a Christian, though all earthly things are swept away. There is a world beyond this sphere, — a world where no storms beat, and where nothing hurtful ever shall come; why should we be so affected by what takes place here, where we are staying but a little time?
Life is made up of habits. We ask God to help us to keep sweet and to live joyfully. He is ready to do it, but the way he would help us is in little lessons which we must learn for ourselves. He will never take out of our life all our miserable ways at one time, and put in place of them a full set of lovely ways, as one might change the works of a watch. That is not God’s way of remaking us. We are scholars in Christ’s school, and are to learn of him. No pupil can master an art or a science in a day: it takes months and years. We cannot learn in a day to live joyfully and victoriously; but we can get a lesson to-day and another to-morrow, letting no day pass without its line. Meanwhile, God will help us continually, encouraging every effort, permitting us to fail in no lesson. If only we are diligent and persistent, the most cheerless of us can at last so learn the habit of joy, that we shall fill our days with song. Susan Coolidge tells us how all such lessons are learned: —
How does the soul grow? Not all in a minute. Now it may lose ground, and now it may win it; Now it resolves, and again the will faileth; Now it rejoiceth, and now it bewaileth; Now its hopes fructify, then they are blighted; Now it walks sunnily, now gropes benighted, Fed by discouragements, taught by disaster. So it goes forward, now slower, now faster, Till, all the pain past, and failures made whole, It is full-grown, and the Lord rules the soul.”