A Disciple of Joy

A few weeks back, Rick Jones of Catholic Relief Services spoke to a group of students and myself who had traveled to El Salvador.  So much of what he shared has stuck with me, especially his insistence upon the need for comprehensive immigration reform.  Yet even more striking was his answer to the question: what sustains you?  After over 20 years living and working amidst poverty and violence in El Salvador, how do you go on?  He mentioned 4 seemingly simple things, important things that apply to almost all of us who work for peace, justice, or the common good.

1. Community - remind ourselves that we are not in this alone.  Make time for intentional, prayerful community that reflects on the Gospel together.
2. Prayer - ask God each day "What can I do today to keep from growing cynical?"
3. A sense of humor
4. The discipline of seeking and finding JOY

This last point was especially captivating to me. What does it mean to call joy a discipline?  I have long been fixated (ever since a great homily from Fr. Joe Wagner at Xavier University) on the difference between happiness and joy.  Happiness is fleeting, made by humans, and dependent on circumstances.  Happiness is good, but it is not enough to sustain us in the difficult work we are called to do.  For that, we need joy.  Joy is lasting, and of God.  Yet maybe Rick is right - it's not just a grace from God but also a spiritual discipline.  Like prayer, it both wells up from the Holy Spirit within and is cultivated by our own efforts.

After his talk, I had to write about this idea of joy as a discipline - what would it mean to be a disciple of joy in my own life?  So I wrote the following poem, reflecting on my experiences in the village of Guarjila in the mountains of El Salvador.  

To Be a Disciple of Joy
Is as humbling and holy
As the humming tune of Glendy,
Nine years old and already holding
My heart's pulse in her hand.
To be a disciple of joy
Is to slowly learn how to
Hold her pulse right back.
Sometimes a shared avocado helps.
That, or grape soda.
To be a disciple of joy
Is to sweep the dirt floor
Until it shines like new skin,
Or like polished gravestones,
Or coca-cola bottle tops,
Having once believed that dirt will always be dirt.
To be a disciple of joy
Means to accept food from a hungry woman,
Finally learning the shape of the cross.
Who knew Christ is a woman?
To be a disciple of joy
Means to flip the coin of suffering
And not be shocked at the ludicrous,
Perfect laughter that awaits us on the other side.

Now I am thousands of miles away from Glendy, and Lucinda, and that dirt floor.  So what does the discipline of joy means for me here in San Diego?  What does it mean for me today?  God only knows...