Indescribable Joy

By Rev. Caitlin Childers Brown

Pastor and Minister of Service & Community

Art from Desert Wisdom: Sayings from the Desert Fathers and Mothers by Yushi Nomura

Throughout Lent in our Sunday morning worship and on Wednesday nights we have been discussing Finding our Way to God—looking to how people have found God before in the Sabbath and in the covenants. For me, these discussions have been full of challenging commands. It is uncomfortable to be reminded that our lives must continually be transformed to find God. Remembering the covenants has given me pause to reflect on just how much I forget that God makes these promises and commands out of deep love—not punishment. Remembering the Sabbath on Wednesday nights has pushed me to wrestle with the question of what does a faithful Sabbath truly look like, and how can we all practice it together? I am grateful that the scriptures of Lent have guided us toward uncomfortable or convicting conversations. 
 
Whenever Ethan makes a fire for us, I hate those first few moments of smoke swirling everywhere. With my allergies, I often feel the need to hide inside while the smoke fills the backyard. I know the tears from smoke well! But, once the fire calms down, it is a wonderful gift to sit outside and enjoy the crackling. 
 
Like those backyard fires, in our moments of silence or listening to God’s commands, I have been struck by the indescribable beauty, or as Amma Synceltica put it, indescribable joy in our conversations and wrestling. As we have discussed commands, living out our faith, and seeking God in our readings and prayers, I see the renewal of God at work in our lives. On the other side of the discomfort and challenge, is the beautiful fruit of faith. Like sitting by a warm fire on a cool spring night, drawing near to God is a gift that fills our souls. 
 
My prayer for all of us this Lenten season is that we don’t shy away from lighting the divine fire in ourselves, but remember that after the smoke and tears, there is indescribable joy.

Cameron Schroeder