We are in God’s orchard, exploring the Fruit of the Spirit.

Today we’ll recap what we’ve learned so far. Then we’ll talk about joy both as a concept and in our scriptures today. Then we’ll explore three ways you can cultivate more joy in your life. And finally, I’ll lay down a challenge for you.

Recap

Last week we learned two important things.

First, the Fruit of the Spirit are like virtues. When Paul writes to the Galatians, there are no creeds or doctrines yet, so he offers these fruits as markers of identity. They are qualities that take time to cultivate.

Virtues are like fruit. Fruit takes time to develop. It isn’t made in a factory or a lab. First you plant a tree. You cultivate it. Fertilize it. Wait for it to bloom. Then, in time, the fruit comes. We’re in the season of apple blossoms right now. We won’t see fruit until the fall. Virtues are the same way. They take time. Which is why so few people bother with them at all.

Second, we learned that love cannot be adequately described. It’s a mystery. Not because we know nothing about it, but because we know so much that no single definition can hold it. And yet, we know it when we experience it.

One of my favorite descriptions of love comes from Captain Corelli’s Mandolin:

Love is not breathlessness, It is not excitement, It is not the promulgation of eternal passion. That is just being “in love” which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, And this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Those that truly love, have roots that grow towards each other underground, And when all the pretty blossoms have fallen from their branches, They find that they are one tree and not two.

Love is not transactional. It’s something we nurture and grow, a connection cultivated between people. Sometimes it strikes like lightning. Other times it grows quietly, and one day we realize we’re standing in it.

What Joy Is

Unlike love, joy is a little easier to describe. Brené Brown defines joy as “an intense feeling of deep spiritual connection, pleasure, and appreciation.”[1]

Joy is different from happiness. Happiness is external and circumstantial. Joy is internal and enduring.

In The Gifts of Imperfection, Anne Robertson notes that the Greek word often translated as happiness, makarios, refers to good fortune or freedom from care. But chairo, joy, points to something deeper, something like the settled gladness of the soul.

I once knew a man named Al. He was not a happy person. He was irritable. Nothing was ever quite right. He had aches and pains and made sure you knew about them. Yet, he was joyful. He had wit. His criticism made you better. His humor made space for others. He carried gratitude in a way that snuck up on you. He used to say, “Another day on the right side of the grass.”

There’s joy even in memento mori, remembering our mortality. Each day is a gift. Life is for living. I’m reminded of Al often. Dr. Farnham’s favorite phrases when someone says, “It’s good to see you.” He always says, “Better seen and not viewed.”  Same posture of joy.

Are we always happy? No. That’s not the expectation. As Lawrence Ferlinghetti writes[2]: “The world is a beautiful place
to be born into

if you don’t mind happiness

not always being

so very much fun

if you don’t mind a touch of hell

now and then

just when everything is fine

because even in heaven

they don’t sing

all the time”

It’s not a happy poem. It doesn’t avoid the pain of the world. And yet, it is deeply joyful. If you’re looking for constant happiness, this faith won’t deliver that. We have the cross. We know suffering is real. But we also proclaim that death is not the final word. Even our country’s founding documents don’t promise happiness, only the pursuit of it.

Happiness fades when sadness comes. But joy is load-bearing. It can carry sorrow. And as Brené Brown points out, the opposite of joy is not sadness. It’s fear.[3]

Joy in Scripture

The Israelites knew fear. In Book of Nehemiah, the people have returned from exile. Jerusalem is in ruins, but under Nehemiah, the walls are rebuilt. And then comes the deeper question: Who are we now?

So they gather, and Ezra reads the law. The Levites explain it so the people can understand. At first, the people weep. But then they are told something surprising: “Do not grieve… the joy of the Lord is your strength.”

And they go out to eat, drink, and share with those who have nothing. It is not a happy moment. Their history is full of loss. But it is a joyful one. They are reconnected to their story, their God, their identity. When love roots you, joy grows naturally.

Paul picks this up in Epistle to the Philippians, “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!” This is Paul writing from prison. His life is not happy. He’s been beaten, shipwrecked, opposed, and eventually executed. And yet, he is joyful. Because he is rooted in the love of God in Christ. And from that root, joy grows.

Which brings us to Thomas. He is the one who finally says, “My Lord and my God!”

Like the others, he is living in the shadow of fear. But he wasn’t in the room the first time Jesus appeared. When the others tell him, he can’t believe it. Maybe grief has gotten the best of them. Maybe hope is outrunning reality.

And here’s the thing we often miss. On Easter morning, the Beloved Disciple and Peter see the empty tomb and “believes”… but the text immediately tells us they did not yet understand the resurrection.

Which means Thomas isn’t uniquely doubtful. He’s just honest about the gap everyone else is already living in. And when Jesus meets him, he gives Thomas exactly what he needs. And Thomas responds with the clearest confession in the Gospel. Not Doubting Thomas. Clear-eyed Thomas. Honest Thomas.

And yet we give him the nickname that sticks. Like calling someone a Scrooge, forgetting that Ebenezer Scrooge becomes generous and joyful in the end. Honestly… be a Scrooge.

Because generosity leads to joy. And joy is act of resistance of the forces of evil and death. They cannot touch your joy because it can bear anything. For our joy comes from God.

Cultivating the Fruit of Joy

How do we cultivate joy? It involves intentionally focusing on small pleasures, practicing gratitude, and nurturing connection.

Brené Brown tells a story about her daughter sitting in a paddleboat, face turned toward the sun, eyes closed, smiling. Just soaking in the moment. That’s joy.

Small pleasure. Deep appreciation. Connection.

And I see that here. This church is a place of joy. Not because of high production value. Not because everything is polished. But because it’s real. There is joy in simple worship. In familiar prayers. In voices raised together. Jesus says, “Consider the lilies. Consider the sparrows.” He’s not giving us some high-fluent’n doctrine. He’s giving us simple gifts.

There is joy in gratitude:

• In baptism, welcoming new life
• In third-grade Bibles and creative youth
• In marriages that celebrate love
• In honoring 50-year members
• Even in memorials, where we celebrate lives well lived

All of it is gratitude. And gratitude nurtures connection.

The Challenge

Which brings me to a challenge. In the past nine years, we’ve grown. New members, new faces, new stories. And if I’m honest… I don’t know about a quarter of you.

That’s not a guilt trip. That’s an invitation. Joy grows in connection.

We need more spaces to mix, to meet, to belong. Yes, we have Beer and Hymns. But we need more. We need people who will host dinners. Organize gatherings. Create spaces where strangers become friends. I need the church to meet and decide how best to welcome and mix new members. We need the wisdom of our collective. For if you’re only connection here is me… you’re missing out. I’m the least interesting thing about this place. But you… you all are a treasure trove.

“Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver, the other gold.”

If we do that, our joy will grow.

Closing

In a world full of anxiety, we can still have joy. Not shallow happiness. Not constant cheerfulness. But deep, rooted, load-bearing joy.

The kind that survives sorrow. The kind that outlasts fear. The kind that grows from the love of God in Christ.

We cultivate this joy by our focus on small pleasures. Practicing gratitude. Nurturing connection. And I need your help on that last part.

May we find joy together, here. In this place. Amen.

Works Cited

[1] Atlas of the Heart, page 205.

[2] https://poets.org/poem/world-beautiful-place

[3] Atlas of the Heart, page 205.