There's an Australian poem I have always loved - in fact it once offered me the title for a little book on spirituality. Anyway, the poem begins thus:
Sing me a song with the ring of the truth in it,
Sing me a song with the freshness of youth in it,
Chant me a paean of joy.
The poem ends with much the same sentiments:
……………………………………………..
Send me a message with joyfulness rife in it,
And the singer I'll love for the song.
I am - have always - been taken with that little word 'joy'. I like it much more than the word 'happy', with which it is undoubtedly synonymous. But joy is something more, surely. We say that everyone wants to be happy, strives for happiness. Happiness is a human goal, and I have no quibble with that. We don't often hear it said that people want to be joyful, or even that people are joyful. It seems a rare quality, something given to the saints perhaps, something almost beyond human ken. And this I do have a quibble with!
Joy seems to me to be a decidedly Christian quality, gift even. I have known men and women; I have known young people, who even in the midst of difficulty, indeed tragedy, have projected an attitude of joy, by which I mean that they seem confidently in possession of some known and loved good. I recently anointed a young person who is dying. There we were in the midst of impending death, family grief, while the subject of it all portrayed a quiet joy in the encounter, sharing and communion with family and friends. There was evident, too, a simple possession of another knowledge: God, known and loved as true and good. It is the sort of thing I had previously ascribed to poets, artists and other gifted, insightful people. I now believe and accept that it is God's gift to whomsoever He wishes to grace with it.
'Surprised by joy', the English writer C.S. Lewis once said. Yes, it is suprising, joy. Surprising because it can exist as a fragile and threatened thing - or rather, it appears fragile and threaatened, but it really is not. Joy, as God's gift, is not threatened by lack of money, nor by sickness, not even by sin. It is stronger than all these.
In all my years of teaching and being with young people, I have known joy. Yes, it is true, I have known sadness, problems which at the time have seemed insurmountable. But I have known joy. Young people might not always be able to put this into words, but they feel themselves the bearers of hope and life for the world, despite us adults at times. They know that they have a responsibility for the tomorrow of today's history. But what I would really like to be able to do, and am frustrated often at the difficulty of this, is to name that responsibility of theirs for what it is, a God-given, Christ-centred task, the fruit of their Baptism. I want to tell them that it is Jesus who frees us from all anxiety, that joy is a spiritual gift not related to fast cars, fast women, fast anything (I'm not being sexist here; I teach in a boys' school!). I want them to know that despite the warts and failings of the Church, it is in her as the Body of Christ that they will find the source of their joy.
Do you share this desire with me? I believe that many who read 'Heart and Soul' do. Our world, our city and suburbs, our school here at St. Joseph's needs more and more people who live joyfully, and who know how to nurture joy in youth. When I was a little chap, and altar-server to boot, I knew (in Latin in those days) the opening gambit at the foot of the altar: "I will go to the altar of God" said the priest, and the server answered: "To God who is the joy of my youth". It profoundly affected me then, and it still does now.
St. Joseph's not only tries to be a happy place. It exists especially to bring together the effervescent impulses of youthful hope, generosity, and the dynamic force of the Holy Spirit who can renew us all, at any age.