When God Feels...Joy
August 31, 2025 • Mount Pleasant UMC
Even though social media has become something of a wasteland these days, there are times when it can still be useful. A couple of weeks ago, I went to Facebook and asked this question: what brings you joy? And I got lots of answers from a lot of you, which I’ve tried to distill down into some general categories. Here’s what I heard, in ascending order of number of times mentioned.
Achieving goals
Seeing joy in others
Golf (this was not from Pastor Rick)
Helping others
Reading a good book
Simple things in life
Prayer/Quiet/Relationship with Jesus
Health
Coffee & sunsets
Music
Laughter
Nature
And by far the number one thing mentioned that brings joy was family. Number two was not even close. Oh, and I am supposed to specifically mention one response from someone named Rachel Hoesman who said that what brings her joy is “time spent with my father of course.”
Joy. There’s not much of it in the world around us but we do at least sing about it in church. There’s “Joy to the World” at Christmas (even though it’s not really a Christmas song), and as a kid we would sing in the basement of the Rossville United Methodist Church: “I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart!” Where? Yeah, I knew some of you would do that. I’m not sure we really thought about what it meant even while we were singing it. It was a catchy tune and “joy” became a sort of synonym for “Jesus,” who lived, we were told, in our hearts. But we never really thought about what joy was, or where it came from. And we certainly never though about what, if anything, would bring God joy.
This morning, as we continue our journey through the emotions of God, we are finally moving into the more positive emotions. Over the next three weeks we are going to talk about joy, compassion and love, but it’s interesting that when you ask people, these are not often the emotions we associate with God. By far, the majority of people think of God as an angry old man with a scowl on his face. He’s not happy. One of the most famous paintings in the world on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican, shows a decidedly not happy God at the very moment of Adam’s creation. That’s the way a lot of people think of God. And yet, just as much as the Bible says God experiences anger, hatred and jealousy, he also experiences much joy.
We need to understand first, though, what joy is. Sometimes we get it confused with happiness; they are not the same thing. Happiness is tied to circumstances. When something good happens, we feel happy. If someone says something nice to you or compliments your work, you might feel happy. If you receive a gift you’ve been waiting for, you might be happy. If the sermon doesn’t go too long today, you’ll be really happy. Happiness is tied to our circumstances. But joy is something different. Here’s one definition: “a deep feeling or condition of happiness or contentment” (Lamb, The Emotions of God, pg. 109). Some describe joy is the opposite of sadness. C. S. Lewis called joy the “serious business of heaven” (qtd. in Lamb 109). But my favorite definition of joy goes like this: a deep down certainty that life is good and God is good. If we know those things deep down within us, that life is good and God is good, we can experience joy even if the world is spinning out of control.
And we can experience joy because God experiences joy. More than that, he made this world with joy. In the very beginning, we are told, the first thing God does when he creates anything is to enjoy it. In the first chapter of Genesis, over and over again, we are told that things God creates are “good.” The light is good (Genesis 1:4), the water and sky were good (1:10), the plants were good (1:12), the sun and moon were good (1:18), all the animals were good (especially the cocker spaniels) (1:21, 25), and humanity was “very good” (1:31). Good, good, good. The word “good” today, unfortunately, has come to mean “kind of average.” I mean, if a teacher grades a paper and just says, “Good,” you’re likely to be disappointed. We think of “god” like a grade of C, but the word in Genesis is tov, and it means way more than average. It really means delightful, pleasurable and joyous (cf. Lamb 113). So what the author of Genesis is really saying there is that when God looked at what he had created, it gave him pleasure, delight and, yes, joy. It gave him a sense that all was well. God enjoyed the sunsets and the ways the dolphins played in the sea. He delighted in the colors of the forest and the different ways the lions roared. God found joy in creation; he didn’t create begrudgingly. He created because it brought him joy.
It still does. He still creates out of sheer joy. One of my favorite quotes from G. K. Chesterton talks about the childlike nature of God. It’s kind of long, but it’s worth hearing in its entirety: “Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, ‘Do it again’; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, ‘Do it again’ to the sun; and every evening, ‘Do it again’ to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we” (Chesterton, Orthodoxy, pg. 81). I love that. Every day, God’s joyful heart says, “Do it again!”
There are other things in the Bible we are told that give God joy. One is what the NIV translates as “great creatures of the sea” (Genesis 1:21), but which more literally means “great sea monsters” or “great sea dragons.” Now, most scholars think that’s referring to whales, but there’s also this strange reference in Job to a sea creature called “Leviathan” (Job 41:1-34). If you touch that sea creature, God tells Job, you will never forget it (41:8), and yet it brings God joy. Again, probably a great whale, “but it’s fun to imagine God delighting in something like a kraken or perhaps the Loch Ness Monster” (Lamb 114). We’re also told God delights in human beings; he made us with joy. And he finds joy in those who choose to call him father, the ones who choose a life as one of his people. Jesus says, “There will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent” (Luke 15:7). God finds joy in all of his creation, especially his children, and there is at least one other thing he finds joy in: blessing his children. Moses describes it this way in his final speech to the Israelites: “The Lord will again delight in you [take joy in you] and make you prosperous [the word there is, again, tov, so it’s like he will take joy in you and make you joyful], just as he delighted in your ancestors, if you obey the Lord your God and keep his commands…” (Deuteronomy 30:9-10). That little word “if” is very important. He finds joy by giving you joy, if…if you keep his commands, if you obey. God wants that relationship with us; he wants to bless us. Our obedience brings him joy.
Variations of the word “joy” appear 109 times in the New Testament (cf. Lamb 120), particularly in relation to Jesus’ birth, ministry, death, and resurrection. Jesus both felt great joy and brought great joy. One of my favorite pictures in my house is one of Jesus laughing because most paintings and, until recently, most movies and other depictions of Jesus show him somber, even sad. But Jesus was surrounded by and filled with joy. When he is baptized, we are told heaven was torn open and a dove descended upon him. Then there was a voice from heaven that said, “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased” (Mark 1:11). It’s one of those rare occasions when the whole Trinity is together on earth: the Son Jesus, the Spirit in the form of the dove, and the voice of the Father. And the Father affirms what has been true for all eternity: the Son gives him great joy (that’s another way to translate “well pleased”). We see Jesus enjoying a wedding, celebrating with friends at festivals, and enjoying close friendships. Do we think that he was somber when he raised Lazarus and told those around to “Take off the grave clothes and let him go” (John 11:44)? No, I think he was smiling and laughing as he said that, filled with joy. And can you imagine the joy of those around him when Lazarus came out of the grave?
Of course, as John tells the story, it was the raising of Lazarus that was the final straw for the religious leaders. (I think The Chosen depicted this well.) I mean, you can’t have a man who was once dead running around and telling people that Jesus had raised him. It was the raising of Lazarus that, in many ways, sealed Jesus’ fate, because John says they not only decided that Jesus had to go, they also decided they needed to kill Lazarus as well (cf. John 11:53; 12:10). What happens that last week sounds anything but joyful to us. In fact, it’s most often depicted as joyless, and yes, it was a brutal, painful, horrible death that the religious leaders inflicted on Jesus. No question about that. But listen to how Hebrews describes the cross: “For the joy set before him, he [Jesus] endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:2). For the what? The joy. That’s not just describing someone who puts a fake smile on their face and pushes through a difficult time. The word there is kara, which means exceeding joy, great joy, calm delight. Because of his exceeding joy, Jesus went to the cross. How do we make sense of that?
“The cross was the lowest form of capital punishment in the Roman world, reserved for slaves and criminals and involving both torture and public humiliation” (Guthrie, NIV Application Commentary: Hebrews, pg. 399). It was shameful, and yet, as Hebrews indicates, Jesus turned it “inside out” and focused not on the shame but on the joy. He knew that on the other side of the cross was not only his return to the right hand of the Father, but also the return of hope to the world. Because of his death and resurrection, untold numbers of people would find hope and eternal life. What he endured for six hours would make an impact forever. That was the joy that allowed Jesus to go to the cross. And, I believe, that was the joy that the Father and the Spirit kept in front of Jesus throughout his whole life. “You are my Son; with you I am well pleased.”
But the night before his crucifixion, Jesus knew his disciples and friends would not be able to see that joy. He knew that the next day all they would see is the brutality, the horror, the shame of the cross. They could not see beyond it; all they would know is that their friend, teacher and master had been executed by Rome. That night they had celebrated the Passover meal, which was always a mix of somber and joyful, light-heartedness and serious ritual. And then they had left the borrowed upper room to set out toward the garden of Gethsemane, where they expected to spend some time in prayer as they often did. Jesus teaches them many things along the way. We have the famous promise of the coming of the Holy Spirit in chapter 14, and the image of us being branches connected to the vine in chapter 15. Jesus goes more into the work of the Holy Spirit in chapter 16; the whole teaching is disjointed as you might expect while people are walking along an uneven valley (cf. Card, John: The Gospel of Wisdom, pg. 167). One topic, then another, and then back to the first. Jesus also tells them he has much more to teach them than they can now bear (16:12), and then he drops a bombshell. Well, actually, it shouldn’t have surprised them because he had told them this was coming many times before. And yet, on that night, it seems like they were really hearing it for the first time: “In a little while, you will see me no more, and then after a little while you will see me” (16:16).
Now, they don’t ask Jesus directly, but they begin to talk amongst themselves and discuss what he’s saying. They’re really trying to make sense of it, dissecting it phrase by phrase. But, of course, Jesus knows what they’re talking about. You’d think they’d realize that by now; Jesus always knows. So he breaks into their conversation, saying they will indeed be sad while others are joyful. There’s no way around that. Some will be glad when Jesus is dead, but the disciples will grieve deeply. And yet, he promises, again seeing more than they can see, “Your grief will turn to joy” (16:20). Everything will be reversed “in a little while.” You will receive and experience joy once again, if you just hold on.
The example he uses (which, honestly, is an odd one to use with a bunch of first century men) is of a pregnant woman who goes into labor. There is a lot of pain (so I’m told), convulsions, breathing difficulties—Jesus calls it “anguish”—but once the child is born, he says, she forgets all that. “New life has come, and with it new joy” (Goldingay, John for Everyone—Part Two, pg. 85). Now, I am never one to contradict Jesus, but I do know that when our children were born, Cathy disputed this assumed fact. Yes, there is great joy that the child has been born, but she says you don’t immediately and automatically forget the pain. And I imagine it was like that with the disciples. When Sunday morning came, when Jesus was risen (though most of them didn’t see him until Sunday evening), there was joy at seeing him again. But I doubt that the pain and the grief of losing him so horribly on that Friday went away immediately. For a time, and maybe for the rest of their lives, there was joy mixed with sorrow. But here’s the point: in the presence of the risen Christ, grief turns to joy. Deep down they know God is good. The joy that God has felt since the beginning of time he freely shares with his children. Those who experience resurrection life are immersed in his joy.
Let me share with you another example of grief turning to joy. If you Google two words, “The Play,” this story will be the first or second one that comes up in your results. The year was 1982, and Stanford was playing the University of California at Berkeley in the “Big Game,” this particular year in California. At halftime, the score was 10-0, California. Some guy named John Elway was playing for Stanford, and in the second half he made two touchdown passes, which put Stanford up by four. The score then went back and forth through a field goal, another touchdown, and another couple of field goals. With eight seconds remaining, Stanford was ahead by one point. It looked like an inevitable Stanford win, and in fact, the band headed out into the end zone to prepare for the post-game celebration. The radio announcer said it would take a miracle for California to win at this point. And then, this happened.
By the way, the guy who got plowed into was Gary Tyrrell, a trombone player, and his trombone was smashed. It’s now in the College Football Hall of Fame (cf. Lamb 124-125). But regardless, in that moment, California’s grief turned to joy. What they thought was inevitable turned out not to be, and that’s a parable for what happened at the cross, what Jesus promises in his long, final walk. “Your grief will turn to joy” (16:20) because God is a joy-giver. He longs to share his joy with his children.
So, whatever you are going through right now, whatever grief you are suffering, it will not last forever. This is not a “put on a happy face and pretend” sort of message. This is an encouragement to connect with the joy-giver, to tap into the eternal source of joy that God Almighty has. Yes, there are times when we will and must go through grief. Yes, there are things in this world that are difficult. In fact, the world offers nothing really but pain and disappointment (Card 175). But to those who follow Jesus, to those who believe in his name and trust in his grace, he longs to give us joy. Not always happiness, but joy, that deep-down assurance that life is good and God is good. We can even find joy in the midst of the worst situations because it is not dependent on our circumstances. For the joy set before him, Jesus endured the cross. And so can we because our God is a God of joy.
As I close this morning, I want to turn back to G. K. Chesterton, who called joy the “gigantic secret of the Christian.” Chesterton was concerned that far too often we think our faith ought to make us somber and sad rather than joy-filled, that we do too good a job at hiding the joy that comes from God. Here’s how he put it over a hundred years ago: “Man is more himself, man is more manlike, when joy is the fundamental thing in him, and grief the superficial. Melancholy should be an innocent interlude, a tender and fugitive frame of mind; praise should be the permanent pulsation of the soul. Pessimism is at best an emotional half-holiday; joy is the uproarious labour by which all things live” (Orthodoxy 230-231). I love that: the “uproarious labour by which all things live.” Let’s make it our goal that joy is no longer a gigantic secret, but that all who come to know us know that life is good and God is good and that is why we can sing even on days of grief. God is a God of joy. Amen.
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