By Steven Norris
Like much of the world, I was captivated over the past few weeks watching U.S. Olympic Figure Skater, Alyssa Liu (pronounced “Ally-sa Lee-oh”) compete in Italy, but not for the reasons you might expect. It wasn’t the skill of her impressive gold-medal-winning performance. It wasn’tthe zebra-striped hair or the unique frenulum piercing. It wasn’t the backstory of her unlikely appearance at the Olympic games (she retired four years ago, having experienced profound burnout from competition). It wasn’t even her unparalleled sportsmanship that caught my eye (if you missed her response to the announcement of the scores for rival Japanese skater, Ami Nakai, then go look it up).
The thing that stood out to me more than anything watching Alyssa Liu compete was her unbridled joy. She was a woman who skated like she had nothing to prove. She was elated to be competing on the Olympic stage and appeared unfazed by expectation, nervousness, or pressure. In virtually every program, she was one with the music and gave the impression that she was having the time of her life.
Christians throughout the centuries have had a tenuous relationship with joy and celebration. The Puritans in England and the Pietists in Germany were known for their rigid moralism and skepticism towards unchecked passion and emotionalism. Even in the gospels, the religious leaders of Jesus’ day criticized him as a drunkard and a glutton (Luke 7:34). Churches, unfortunately, have a reputation for their lengthy lists of “Do’s & Don’ts” rather than for the joy that is so clearly a fruit of the spirit (see Galatians 5:22-23).
Earlier in Luke 7, Jesus and the disciples were criticized by the religious elite for gathering grain on the sabbath day. Jesus could have debated with them, parsing every letter of the law. Rather, he responded, “The sabbath was made for man, and not man for the sabbath.” In other words, Jesus pointed them towards the “spirit” of the law (a joyous celebration of God’s provision and freedom) rather than a stifling legalism that only served to divide and shame.
Similarly, Christ became real to me, not through legalistic systems, but through the embodied joy, peace, and celebration of other Christians. What continues to draw me is the joy of sharing life with a group of people whose acceptance and love for me is not dependent on my performance. When the prodigal son returned home in Luke 15, his father did not even wait for a confession of wrongdoing before firing up the grill and starting a party. Likewise, the Church is most effective when it models joy-filled service to the world.
As we journey through the season of Lent towards the cross of Christ, let us remember that joy was goal motivating Jesus. Therefore, “let us look to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith, who for the sake of the joy set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:2).