Kleinig follows the theme of joy through the New Testament, noting the shift from a word meaning good mood to one naming the deeper gift Christ brings. He moves from the angels’ gospel of great joy and the doxology of Luke, through Mary, John the Baptist, the wise men, Zacchaeus, and the entry into Jerusalem, to the disciples’ Easter joy at the wounds and word of the risen Lord and their exultation at the ascension and Pentecost meals. Responding to a question, he defends instrumental and liturgical music as fitting expression of inexpressible joy. He then expounds John’s teaching on complete joy: Christ brings the Father’s love so that his joy is fulfilled in his disciples as they abide in his love, keep his commandments, ask in his name, and love one another.
Read the full transcript
Transcript (edited for readability).
God's gift of heavenly joy to the church on earth. Where has the joy gone? We heard last night: the joy is in Jesus, and Jesus is with us.
Now, something interesting happens linguistically, and I don't want to make too much of it, but this is for those of you who know some Greek. Whereas the normal translation for the verb samach and simcha, which is joy, rejoicing, in the Old Testament, is euphrainō in the Septuagint, and euphrosynē — the New Testament occasionally uses that term, but shifts away from it. Why does it do that? Why does it use the verb chairo and chara instead? Because the Greek term euphrosynē means to be in a good mood — it's very much like our term "happy." And they felt, in the light of the incarnation, that this wasn't good enough to describe what it is that Jesus brings us. Jesus comes not to put us in a good mood, to make us feel good about ourselves and the world, but to make us rejoice and be glad.
Now, let me take you through the New Testament, tracing the theme of joy in short, and it's amazing how it runs all the way through, from beginning to end. You remember that right at the beginning of the story of Jesus, the angels appeared to the shepherds on Christmas Eve, when Jesus was born, and they came to preach the gospel of what — the gospel of great, not just joy, but great joy — to you and all people, at the birth of Jesus. So they bring the gospel of joy to people on earth. But not earthly joy — heavenly joy, as we sing in the Christmas hymn, "Joy to the World, the Lord has come, let earth receive her King, let every heart prepare him room, and heaven and nature sing." Heavenly joy, personal joy, international joy, cosmic joy. The angels bring the gospel, the good news of joy, to a world that had lost its joy, as Lucas proclaimed rather graphically last night.
It proclaims joy to a world that looks for joy in all the wrong places and confuses happiness with joy. And so it goes chasing, chasing, chasing after joy — from sex, and most of all, more recently, counterfeit joy from drugs. We need to understand that the epidemic of drug-taking is not just a physical, psychological matter, but has a spiritual dimension. Don't just see it negatively — it shows you what people are searching for: looking for joy, which is the right thing, but in the wrong places. And the result of that search for joy, the wrong kind of joy in the wrong places, results in the disillusionment, cynicism, and nihilism that surrounds us on all sides, most of all in young people and educated people.
Well, the angels cut right through that. They call on us to join with them in praising God with their heavenly doxology: "Glory to God in the highest" — that means in the high heavens, in heaven — "and peace to God's people on earth." So they associate — and this is very important — they associate the gospel, the good news, with praise, or better than that, with doxology. Doxology is what the angels do in heaven, in the presence of God. And they bring doxology down to earth and invite the most unlikely people to join in the heavenly doxology together with them — the shepherds.
If you're interested in the importance of doxology, of praise and joy, just go through Luke's gospel — there's a whole theology of doxology there. It's very important, because we are doxology. Look at all the passages where Luke says the people glorified God, and in one significant place, they glorify Jesus — which means that when they glorify Jesus, they acknowledge Jesus to be divine. Look it up for yourself.
Then, out of that comes the message of joy to people on earth, to Christ's disciples. It begins with Mary. Watch out for translations — there's the old phrase, "translator, traitor." What does the angel say to Mary? Most translations have "Greetings, you are highly favored, the Lord is with you." That's not wrong, because the Greek word there can mean "greetings," "hello" — "good on you," in Australian terms. But it's far stronger, less bland than that. He calls on Mary, the mother of our Lord, to rejoice. Rejoice, Mary — why? You are highly favored, you are richly graced, the Lord is with you.
And then, fairly soon after that, you have the exaltation of John the Baptist in his mother's womb, when Mary visits Elizabeth. You remember that remarkable scene — John the Baptist, in his mother's womb, coming into the presence of the one who bears Jesus, rejoices at the coming of his Lord and Savior. Then you have the exaltation of Mary in the Magnificat, whose spirit rejoices in God her Savior — we sang that last night, I think, if I remember rightly, the joy of Mary. Again, the angel tells her to rejoice, and she rejoices because she has her Lord in her womb.
And then you have the great joy, the exceeding great joy, of the wise men who are led to baby Jesus in the manger. The joy of God isn't just for his people Israel, but for all nations, and they are the first ones who don't just rejoice but rejoice with great joy, exceeding joy — they outdo even the shepherds, and they outdo Mary. How about that?
Then, as we go through the gospel, we hear about how Jesus preaches and teaches God's word, and people rejoice when they hear and receive the word of God, the gospel of salvation. It's a recurrent theme — where the gospel, where Jesus preaches the good news, where Jesus teaches the word of God, and people receive it in faith, it produces joy. The gospel comes to people to give them joy, and that runs all the way through the New Testament.
You have the parable of the man who finds, who's looking, looking, looking all his life, and finds what he's looking for, hidden treasure — and what does he do? He rejoices. You have the story of Zacchaeus, little Zacchaeus, who wanted to be a big man, and had to go up a tree to see Jesus. He wanted to look at Jesus, but he didn't want Jesus to look at him. But what does Jesus do? "Zacchaeus, I want to visit your home today." And that changes Zacchaeus from a miserable, money-grabbing crook into a joyful man, and so he rejoices to receive Jesus into his house as his guest.
And the story of joy then culminates in the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, riding on a donkey. Here you have the king coming in a processional entry into his city, to claim his city and the temple for himself, and his disciples — and it's only his disciples — who rejoice to welcome Jesus as he comes into the city of Jerusalem.
Then you have Easter coming, and the resurrection of Jesus, and the joy of the disciples at the risen Lord Jesus. That's emphasized both in Luke and in John. Luke says the disciples marveled to see the wounded hands and wounded side of Jesus, which he showed them, and they couldn't believe it — it was too good to be true, and they rejoiced. They saw the wounds of Jesus, and that was the cause of their joy. Or more simply, in John's gospel, Jesus comes on Easter Sunday into the closed room. They are filled with fear, scared for the future. Jesus comes through closed doors and says, "Peace be with you." And what do the disciples do when they see the risen Lord? They rejoice. And that's the beginning, properly speaking, of the joy of the church, which has gone down through the ages and reaches each one of you, every day of your lives. But notice: that Easter Sunday assembly of the disciples is a liturgical setting.
And then, most surprisingly, you have the story of the ascension of Jesus at the end of Luke's gospel. Jesus ascends — he blesses the disciples as he leaves them. He is the great high priest, now in the heavenly sanctuary, and he brings the blessing of heaven to them here on earth. He is taken up in the cloud of God's presence, and they don't see him anymore. Now, from a human point of view, what would you expect them to do — be sad, because they know they won't see Jesus any longer? But what do they do? They go back to the temple in Jerusalem, and they do so with joy. They go with joy because the risen Lord Jesus has blessed them — he has blessed them, bringing them not earthly blessings but heavenly blessings, blessings that come from the presence of God the Father to his people on earth.
Then comes Pentecost, and the beginning of the Christian community, the divine service. We read that the disciples in Jerusalem celebrated the Lord's Supper regularly, and they ate their meals with exultation — not just with joy, but with exultation. That's the heavenly term, the term used for what happens in heaven. They did so with exultation because in the divine service, in the community, they live heavenly lives here on earth.
And then, leaving the gospels and Acts, we come to where we are now. And I think Peter puts it best of all — and we heard Lucas preaching on this last night — the exultation of all believers with great joy, a joy that is unutterable and filled with glory, in 1 Peter. Let me read it to you again: "Though you have not seen him" — that's Jesus — "you love him. Though you do not see him, you believe in him and exult with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls." You receive the salvation of your souls when? Here and now, through the risen Lord Jesus. You have been saved, you are saved, you will be saved. So the result of faith in the risen Lord Jesus is exultation. The reason is that we have salvation already, here and now, and that takes us out of ourselves and our little, petty, self-enclosed lives, our little concerns, our little world, into the big world of Jesus — the big world which embraces heaven and earth. We have ecstatic and inexpressible joy that goes beyond words. There are no human words that can express the joy that is given to us. It's inexpressible, it's unutterable, it's way out — it's "wow," it's "far out." But most remarkably, that joy is filled with glory — filled with glory, the glory that comes from the presence of God, us being in the presence of God, and God — Father, Son, and Holy Spirit — dwelling in and among us here in church. His glory is with us, his glory fills each one of us, and the joy that we have is the joy that he brings, that his glory brings. So it's joy that's filled with the glory of the Lord. Remember, in Luke's gospel, the glory of the Lord appeared to the shepherds, and the result was they rejoiced. The message of joy.
Lastly, to give you the big picture — and we'll fill in a bit more detail shortly — we go to the book of Revelation, where in chapter 19 we see where the joy comes from and where the joy leads us. Where has the joy gone? It's in Jesus. It's on earth, but it's heaven and earth, and it comes from heaven.
So in Revelation 19, we have the call of the church in heaven to the church on earth — the church triumphant calls the church militant to join with them in rejoicing and exultation at the wedding supper of the Lamb with his bride. So in Holy Communion, the wedding supper of the Lamb, the people who've gone before us, the church triumphant, calls on us who are still battling here on earth, in lives in which, from an earthly point of view, we experience more reason to lament than to rejoice. The heavenly community, the heavenly church, calls on us to rejoice together with them in the presence of God. Just listen to the way it goes: there's a "hallelujah" beforehand — hallelujah, four hallelujahs. Hallelujah is the victory cry — the victory cry of God's victory over all evil, all the powers of darkness and of Satan. So it's a victory cry. The people in heaven, the angels, call on us to join them in praising God. Hallelujah — you people here on earth, join us in praise. Why? "Let us rejoice and be glad and give glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come." Notice that perfect tense — it's not "will come," or even "is coming," but "has come." "And his bride has made herself ready."
I'd better keep track of time. Okay, let me just pause there — is there anything anyone would like to raise before I move on? Yes?
Can you address the role of music in this unutterable joy?
It's interesting that when we finish reading the commentary on Revelation, when he gets to the seven gifts of the Spirit, one of which is joy, he only talks about music. So — here you have a whole theology, not just of sacred song in general, but particularly of liturgical music. Because music, even ordinary music, helps you to express — or it expresses — what is otherwise inexpressible in words. It doesn't mean it contradicts what you say, but it fills it in. It rounds it off. Whereas words are black and white, if words are sung, and most importantly, if words are accompanied by instrumental music, then what happens? The black and white becomes multicolored, and you communicate more fully. So when you sing the word of God to people, accompanied by musical instruments, it engages you — it engages you at all levels of your being. That's the trick of music: it's the most physical of all the arts, and it's the most spiritual of all the arts. And to sing the word of God, accompanied by music, means that the word of God addresses you at all levels of your being, and, better than that, it expresses what no other medium here on earth can communicate — which is unutterable and exalted joy.
Now, we are quite critical of Pentecostals, but Pentecostals sometimes get it half right, and their emphasis on praise and praise-singing, and also the role of instrumental music — which, you know, is not necessarily the greatest music — reminds us of something in our own heritage. If there's something that Luther knew, and if there's something that our orthodox fathers and mothers of the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries knew, it's that if you have joy, you need music. And it's not just song, but music which is instrumental.
Now, I could speak a lot about that, because, as you probably know, this is a topic that's dear to me, and dear to you. But what we lack in the church, and what the Pentecostal movement is challenging us to recapture, is the importance of praise — which is not only sung, but accompanied by appropriate musical instruments. Put it from an earthly point of view: instrumental music can take you where nothing else can take you. But to reverse it around: through instrumental music, heavenly realities can best be expressed for us here on earth.
If you go to the book of Revelation, the people of God who stand before the throne don't just hold a bowl of incense in their hands — that's the prayers, the intercessions of the church — but on the other hand, they hold a harp, a lyre, and that symbolizes praise, and the importance not just of sung praise but of instrumental praise. It's probably not a harp, it's a lyre — remember that, that's chapter 5. And then a little bit later in the book of Revelation — let me find it — chapter 15: this is a vision of heaven. "And I saw what appeared to be a sea of glass mingled with fire, and also those who had conquered the beast" — that's the chaos monster we heard about — "and its image and the number of its name, standing beside the sea of glass, with the harps of God in their hands. And they sing the song of Moses, the servant of God" — Exodus 15 — "and the song of the Lamb, saying, 'Great and amazing are your deeds, O Lord God Almighty.'" They stand before the Lord God — they don't just bring incense, the incense of intercession, to God, but they hold the harps of God. Notice, it's the harps of God in their hands — not the harps of David, not the harps of this world, but the harps of God in their hands, as they sing the song. And because they are singing the song, they are not just singing the song to God, but they're singing the song to the people on earth — instrumental music.
Let's go on. So Jesus comes to bring heavenly joy to his people on earth — a heavenly joy on earth. Let's just go through some of that in the church.
Jesus says that there is joy in heaven with the angels when what happens? When one sinner repents, the whole of heaven, the angels, stop everything else, and they rejoice. We would think that the angels would only rejoice when the whole of America is converted, or at least one city, or one town, or at least a family or a community. No, no, no — it's better than that. One sinner repenting is the cause of joy in heaven — maybe not on earth — and with the angels. So the angels clap, they rejoice. And notice that Jesus doesn't talk about the sorrow of repentance, but the joy of repentance. The joy of repentance — we don't see that, but the angels see it. And we're called, then, by these parables — Jesus encourages us to rejoice together with the angels every time Jesus goes and reclaims one of his lost sheep, because he's concerned with every individual. He's prepared to leave the ninety-nine, who are quite safe, to go out and look for and find the one that's lost. So every time one lost person comes back to God, all the angels rejoice — and not just the angels, but God the Father rejoices.
Remember the three parables — the lost coin, the lost sheep, and the two lost sons. And of those two lost sons, the one who is most lost is the older one — the grumpy one, the miserable so-and-so. He's miserable, he serves God out of duty, obedient, he's always done the right thing, he's never been game to leave home, he is self-righteous. And when his father shames himself by running to embrace his son — who has done what is unforgivable, because he has acted as if his father is dead, having demanded his inheritance before his father died, shaming his father, shaming the family — the older son is hopping mad and refuses to join in the celebration, the rejoicing. So in the parable, this is what we read: "It was fitting" — "it was necessary," that's what the word means — this had to be — "it was necessary to be happy and to rejoice, for this your brother was dead and is alive, he was lost and is found." The angels rejoice when one sinner comes back to God, and God the Father, the waiting Father, rejoices to welcome back the lost son. And he's not only interested in the lost son who leaves home, but he's also interested in giving joy to all the lost Lutherans — who go to church and are miserable so-and-sos, and do what they have to do out of duty, in such a way that it turns everybody off the gospel. The joy of the Father.
Then Jesus sends out — he doesn't just send out his disciples, he sends out seventy evangelists. They are pastors, not the apostles, but pastors, and you, if you like, are successors to those seventy evangelists. And they go out, and they rejoice, because even the demons submit to them in the name of Jesus. And there's nothing wrong with that — there's great joy when you see that Jesus and his word have power over the demons, and they rejoice in the power of Jesus over demons. But Jesus says, no, don't rejoice in that. What should you rejoice in? Rejoice that your names are written where? In heaven. And if they are written in heaven, nobody can unwrite them — they remain written. Your name was written on the heavenly baptismal roll, and it will stay there always, and that's cause for joy. Rejoice that your names are written in heaven. And even if you wander away from God, even if you lose your way, it doesn't mean that God rubs out your name in his family register, in his church register.
Then we get a lovely little incident in Luke chapter 10, almost immediately after this passage about names being written in heaven, where Jesus gives thanks to God the Father that he's revealed himself to the most unlikely people — not the important people, but to babes — and to his disciples. He rejoices that God has revealed himself to Jesus himself, and through Jesus to his disciples. So Jesus is filled with exultation, and he praises God the Father in thanksgiving, because God has revealed himself, made himself known to Jesus, and also, through Jesus, to his disciples. And he wants to share this joy with his disciples. He says, "Blessed are the eyes that see what you see" — the invisible. Blessed are the eyes that see what you see — not just Jesus, but Jesus the Son of God, heaven coming to earth in Jesus. "For I tell you that many prophets and kings wanted to see what you see and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it." Seeing Jesus — because you hear his word, you see Jesus with your ears rather than with your eyes.
We're talking about the joy in the church, the joy that Jesus brings to the church, and this is not ancient history — this is here and now, in the church. You remember when the risen Lord Jesus appears to his disciples at the end of Matthew's gospel — remember, it begins with the wise men coming to Jesus and going home with exceeding — they rejoice with exceeding great joy, not just great joy, but superabundant great joy. Matthew's gospel ends where it begins — with joy. And the focus here is on the three women who come to the tomb. The angel tells them this — not the angel, but Jesus: the women departed with what? Great joy. Great joy — the wise men, and now great joy with these women. The women depart with great joy, and they ran to the disciples, and before they get there, what does Jesus do? He meets them on the way, and he says, "Rejoice." So they hear it from Jesus himself. And likewise, all of us, this side of Easter, have Jesus saying to us every Sunday: rejoice. The risen Lord Jesus appearing to us, speaking with us, meeting with us, and calling us to rejoice.
Now, I want to come to what is a bit complicated, because it's John's teaching on joy — in its essence it's quite simple, and yet it's quite complex. Now, to get the basic sense of this: bear in mind that Jesus comes to his disciples so that he can enjoy them, and so that his joy will be in them — they receive his joy. He comes to bring them his own joy, heavenly joy, so that they in turn may experience heavenly joy by having their joy in him. That's the circuit I spoke about, that the prophet Isaiah spoke about — the circuit of joy: God enjoying his people, people enjoying God, and then the joy grows and increases and never ends. That circuit.
This is how John describes it — he talks about complete joy, and I like that. Remember, Psalm 16 says, "In your presence is fullness of joy" — completeness of joy. Now, Jesus doesn't deny the value of earthly joys — they are a gift of God. But what's the problem with earthly joy? It can't last. It's good, but it's incomplete, it's not rounded off. Now, the concern of Jesus, at the last meal that he shares with his disciples, Maundy Thursday, is that he wants to drum into them — and this is what he prays for as the great high priest — he prays that their joy may be complete, full, perfect.
Let's just run through this, and I'm happy to open it to discussion. This is the great high priestly prayer of Jesus — I think it's better called the prayer of consecration. Here Jesus consecrates himself as priest and king, and in the same way he consecrates us — he makes us holy, he prays for our consecration as priests together with him. He says, "Holy Father, keep them" — that's his disciples — "in your name, which you have given me, that they may be one, even as we are one. But now I am coming to you, and these things I speak in the world, that they may have my joy fulfilled in them" — that they may have not just joy, but my joy, the joy of Jesus, fulfilled in them. And notice, it's plural — it's not individual, saying, okay, you have this joyful person, that joyful person — it's the joy-filled community he's talking about, the church.
Jesus has come — his ministry, his suffering, his death, his resurrection has the purpose of making their joy complete. "I am now coming to you" — that's the ascension of Jesus. "And these things I speak in the world" — and that's not just on Maundy Thursday, but everything that Jesus has spoken and continues to speak in the church has one purpose: that they may have my joy fulfilled in them.
And how do they experience that joy? Put it in down-to-earth terms: they experience that joy, that complete joy, that perfect joy, when they pray to the Father in the name of Jesus the Son. They pray not in order to inform God about what they need, or to tell him what to do, but they pray in order to receive God's gifts. This is what Jesus says: "Until now" — that's until the death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus — "you have asked nothing in my name. Ask, and you will receive." For what purpose? I can think of all sorts of purposes: "Ask and you'll receive so that you may be able to serve me. Ask and you'll receive so you'll be good missionaries in the world. Ask and you'll receive so that you'll be loving people." No — ask and you will receive, for what purpose? So that your joy may be full, perfect, complete — the real deal, the full package. And so it comes through receptive prayer — prayer that asks for what we need, for ourselves and for others, and to see that received, and to see how others receive it, brings us perfect joy.
Also, secondly, complete joy and perfect joy comes from remaining in the Son's love. It's easy to fall in love — it's another story to remain in love. Now, the word "remain" means that they have the love of Jesus, and the love of Jesus is the love of the Father — just as the Father loves Jesus, so Jesus brings the Father's love to all his disciples. Not partially, not incompletely, but totally, utterly, completely, as much as we can take in. So he brings the Father's love to us, he brings the Father's blessing and all the gifts of the Father to us, and we receive that from Jesus in faith. Now, we have that — you have that. The problem is staying there. Not because of the danger of falling away — though that could happen too — but the problem of staying there, so that we are able to receive the full package.
What's the problem? The love of God is so big that we can't take it in. The love of God is so wide and deep and high that our miserable little hearts are incapable of taking it in. So we need to remain in God's love so that God can broaden us, make us magnanimous, full-souled, open us up fully, stretch us, so that we can receive more and more of his love. And we do that by remaining in his love.
Just listen to what Jesus says: "As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you." Notice the transmission — the Father loves Jesus, and Jesus loves his disciples. So let's run back on that: how much does God the Father love each one of you? As much as he loves Jesus. In earthly terms, love is a finite commodity — if you love your children, it's hard to have enough love left over for other people's children, and other people. But God's love is utterly infinite — it has no end, it has no limits, it's given fully and completely.
Then he goes on: "So as the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide" — remain — "in my love. Stay there. Don't leave that place" — that place where you are loved by God, that place where you receive the love of Jesus, which is the love of God the Father. Now comes something which we modern Lutherans and modern Protestants might find hard to hear, because he says, "If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love. These things I have spoken to you, that my joy" — and not "you," but "your joy" — there's a typo — "may be full" — complete. "This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you."
So the Son's joy, which is the Father's joy, is complete, is full, reaches its goal, when his disciples — you and me — abide in his love. That's the one thing. But secondly, it's abiding in love, but also keeping his commandments. His commandments are meant to help us love — that's what Jesus taught, that the fulfillment of the commandments is to love God and love your neighbor. His joy is complete if we abide in his love, that's faith, but also if we keep his commandments, just as the Son keeps his Father's commandments. So the joy of disciples is full, it's rounded, it's complete, when they abide in his love and love one another. Love is always given — you can't take it, you can only receive it. And love, true love, is not finite, it's infinite.
On earth, it's difficult to love every person equally, but with the love of God it's infinite. We remain in his love, and love always requires us to hand it on — it's infectious, it overflows, it can't be contained. So we keep on receiving, and God enlarges our capacity to receive his love when we hand on his love to others. So, paradoxically, the more you hand on the love of God to other people, the people around you, the more your capacity to be loved and to receive love is increased.
We don't often realize that, as much as everybody wants to be loved, most people also have a contradictory side to them — they don't want to be loved, because it's too threatening, too dangerous. Everybody knows that if you open yourself to being loved, that changes you — it means you will never be the same again. It transforms you, you lose — what we fear most of all is: if I allow myself to be loved, then I'll lose control of my life, then I won't be able to act as if I'm complete in myself, and I can't be number one anymore, because if you love somebody else, then that person comes first. And so, paradoxically, we box up love — we're prepared to receive so much love, but no more, because if we receive it, it will make too many demands on us, and the last thing we want is somebody to make demands on us.
So we ration — not the love we give, but the love we receive, we ration that. That's one of the problems of marriage — we ration the love that we want to receive from our spouse, and we ration the love that we give to our spouse, and more and more these days we restrict it to sexual terms. We ration it — we say, okay, I want that much love, but I'm not prepared to take the full deal, the big package that comes with it. I don't want to live in such a way in marriage that love changes me, transforms me, turns me inside out, extroverts me, stretches me rather painfully.
So the joy of Jesus is complete when we, his disciples, abide in his love and when we love one another. What are the commandments of Jesus in the Last Supper, in his farewell discourses? There are four things that are the commandments of Jesus.
Jesus says, just as I keep my Father's commandments, so you keep my commandments, you remain in my love, and remaining in love means that you keep these four commandments, these four directives.
First of all, Jesus says, believe in the Father, but also believe in me. So that's number one — a commandment which is also an invitation: trust in me, believe in me. That's the foundation of love, that's the foundation of joy — there's no heavenly joy without trusting, believing, relying on Jesus.
The second commandment is to abide in Jesus, and in his love — we've heard about that.
The third commandment is to ask — ask whatever you will in his name. Now, quite often we tie ourselves up with our teaching about prayer, and that sort of tangles us up so that we miss the obvious things. Let's think in terms of marriage: if you love your spouse, you'll trust your spouse, you'll stay put, you'll remain faithful to your spouse, you'll not only keep on loving but keep on letting your spouse love you, and remain faithful there. But then something happens — we talk, but we never really tell each other what we want from each other. We don't ask. Any marriage counselor worth his or her salt will persuade couples not just to communicate with each other, but to communicate not just their needs but their wishes, their desires. We never tell each other what we want, what we wish for — we're never game to ask what we wish for, because we're afraid the other person will knock us back, and we'll be so hurt, so it's better not to ask than to be turned down. We don't let the other person know what we want.
Just take the sexual realm — we never ask what we would like from the other person, we assume the other person automatically knows what pleases us. Now, the joy of marriage comes not when you are pleased with the other person, but when that other person is pleased with you. How can you know what pleases that person unless they're prepared to tell you, and ask you? Now, that's just a small-scale illustration of what happens for us as Christians. Jesus invites us, and he says, ask. Don't just assume I know — I want you to say it, I want you to express it. Of course I know what you want, but tell me. Tell me, because my joy will be full if you tell me, and your joy will be full if you tell me, and you see that I want to give this to you. I won't knock you back, I won't rebuff you, I won't hurt you the way people hurt you. "Ask whatever you will in my name, and it will be given to you." It will be given to you — the divine passive — God the Father will give it to you.
And then fourthly, most obviously: love one another. Now, "one another" doesn't mean love individually, but plural — it means loving the community, each person in the community, and most of all the people that you don't like.
So: heavenly joy for God's people here on earth. We'll take a break now, and then we'll finish this — this week, oh, not this week, it feels like a week to me — we'll finish this seminar when we unpack the nature of Christian joy, and this is where the practical stuff comes, the rubber hits the road, and I can merely touch on a whole number of things.
