Were you to walk through my home, you would find that I have a lot of photographs hanging on the walls, in albums and even displayed as coffee table books from trips I have taken to far off places. These photos show both people I love and joyous times with them. Accomplishments and achievements and risks I’ve taken solely for the purpose of crossing things off my bucket list — they are all there.
But there is a problem with photographs. They remind me of joyous times, but, as much as I would love to recapture the feeling, the truth is that they are only reminders of the times I have had, not the future or the joy I may feel in the future. And, in the midst of depression or hard times, there is a level of pain that accompanies the remembrance of a joy that was but the hopelessness that comes with not being convinced that joy can occur again.
While I believe that, to a certain extent, we all deal with these issues, the triggers are different from one person to another. I feel joy in driving in to Spokane but never feel that same joy in driving to the home I own in Federal Way.
In much the same way, I feel like the joy one feels in her or his own faith tradition is extremely personal. And, consequently, attempting to impose one’s faith tradition on another (especially if s/he already feels that joy within her/his tradition) can come across as insensitive and has the potential to do more harm than good.
I recently visited a group of friends who find much joy in a “free” worship in which participants dance in the aisles, raise their hands, and are able to express themselves very independently. Most recently, though (when I have attended worship services), I have been involved in liturgical worship in which participants respond to the clergy, stand and kneel together, and make the same statements of faith. And, personally, I love the fact that on any given day, I am participating in the same rituals and traditions of millions (or even billions) of other people around the world — not to mention the billions of people who did these same things thousands of years before me. For me, this style of worship connects me to so many others in humanity. When I expressed this joy in ritual and liturgy, one of my friends from the group bordered on offending me because she wanted my joy to look like hers. The result was a feeling that my joy was/is inferior.
If it is important within a tradition to evangelize, then, isn’t the best display of faith showing one’s joy within that tradition? The result is a potential that others will recognize the joy and desire to be a part of it (which is a lot easier and better than forcing one’s belief on another).
While photographs are personal and have the potential to evoke a personal joy, joy in one’s faith and a faith tradition are the same. If there is a challenge for you in my writing, then, it is to live in joy and be joyous with others — both in life and however your faith takes form. As life goes on, we will continue to take photos of the people we love, the places we have been, and the various things we have accomplished. And as life goes on, we will continue to discover joy in our faith traditions and, subsequently, we have the opportunity to share our joy with others.