A note to readers: This is part three of a four-part, Advent-themed column series from Katie Neustaeter. You can find part one here and part two here.
In the third week of Advent, we focus on one of my very favourite words in all of language — joy.
This tiny, simple little word changes everything: how we live, how we feel, how we make others feel and how we interpret the events of our lives. Making the shift from fixating on happiness to focusing on joy can be the impetus we need to stop endlessly chasing the next fleeting thing that will inevitably leave us wanting more, and instead rest in the contentment that truly satisfies our souls.
For my first year of post-secondary education, I attended a small college in rural Alberta to study theology and examine the building blocks of my faith with the intention of removing the ones that did not contribute to a firm foundation.
One of the requirements of the curriculum was community involvement. A friend who was given a volunteer placement with a program called Joy Chapel had a feeling that I would love it as much as she did and invited me to join her (spoiler: she was right).
Joy Chapel was a dedicated time when people with various developmental delays gathered to sing, dance, worship and celebrate their faith together in a safe environment that met their specific needs. I wish there were words to adequately explain how deeply I was affected by my experience there and why, although it was not my community assignment, I continued attending whenever possible.
Joy Chapel was loud, a bit wild at times and overflowing with excitement. The freedom of the enjoyment in that room every Sunday night was palpable in a way that I had truly never experienced before; the freedom from judgment and empowerment of collective love in that place allowed the folks there to cut loose and celebrate with abandon, despite the many challenges and barriers they faced in their daily lives. The impression that the joy in that room left on me was sufficient to inspire me to not only enter the field of support work, but also to pursue a life marked by the kind of joy that those people so freely demonstrated.
It was in that room that I first started to feel my priorities shift away from the limits of happiness and toward the boundlessness of joy. Happiness had begun to feel like shifting sand to me — something to enjoy when the sun was shining and all was well, but not something solid or dependable.
Our culture is fixated on the idea of happiness. We buy things we can’t afford or put unrealistic expectations on the people we love in the hopes that stuff or others can fill up our well of happiness; but invariably we end up disappointed when we find ourselves empty, anxious and unsatisfied again when the next shiny thing or the latest failed relationship has depleted that shallow source.
Meanwhile, joy presents itself as a sustainable option for long-term living; a well that is deep, wide and does not run dry. Joy is not defined by a day or a circumstance and it can’t be taken away like happiness can be. Joy does not fear and it will not falter, because joy is a choice that we make, not an emotion that we feel.
There’s nothing wrong with being happy — being happy is great! And quite often when lives are marked by joy, happiness is a natural by-product, but there’s a reason we talk about “comfort and joy,” rejoice in making a “make a joyful noise,” celebrate “joy to the world” and bring “good news of great joy.”
Besides the fact that it obviously wouldn’t fit into the melody, would the meaning of the song be the same if we sang, “Oh, tidings of comfort and happiness, comfort and happy, oh tidings of comfort and happiness”? I don’t think so.
Happiness isn’t a solid foundation for our lives because while happiness is nice, joy matters.
Joy is what keeps hope alive during times of suffering, joy is what compels us to live in contentment instead of a constant state of want, and joy is the inexplicable and inexhaustible refreshment available to everyone at all times.
And where do we find this source of joy? How do we drink from a well that deep? How do we satiate our thirst for temporary happiness and satisfy our thirsty souls? How do we make our lives a Joy Chapel?
“The angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Saviour has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.'”
This holiday season, choose joy.
Katie Neustaeter is a professional writer with a background in broadcasting and owner of Refraction Communications. Katie is also a multiple Kamloops Readers Choice award winner in categories including Influencer, Volunteer and Personality. She also really loves candy. As a community advocate who is passionately engaged in her region, Katie explores a wide range of topics in her column Refraction with the purpose of promoting healthy public discourse.
