Third Advent: Joy and Delight

 During the pandemic I started following some parenting pages on Instagram. One of them is called Dr. Becky at Home. There's a concept that she often teaches called "Two things are true."

For example:

"Two things are true. You're not allowed to play any more computer games, and you are allowed to feel mad about that."

"Two things are true. You are allowed to be mad, and you're not allowed to hurt anyone or anything."

"Two things are true. My kid is having a tantrum, and it doesn't mean I am doing something wrong."

This framework extends to other relationships.

"I'm allowed to say no to things, and people are allowed to be annoyed or disappointed that I said no."

"I'm allowed to have opinions, and my husband is allowed to have different opinions."

"It's okay to feel mad, and it's not okay to say mean things when I'm mad."

And of course, this framework extends to many other things.

"Some politicians engage in contemptuous behavior, and it's not worth filling my heart with contempt toward them."

"The courts haven't found evidence of voter fraud, and lots of the country feels unheard and angry because they wanted more investigation." 

"Some people have political views I vehemently disagree with, and I still value the relationship."

"Coronavirus is a horrible disease, and some of the approaches to slow its spread have hurt people and businesses."

This "two things are true" approach is useful in a lot of ways. It allows for differences of opinion, warm-heartedness, and measured responses to various problems.

But it is not very fun.

To be clear -- I believe that nuance is an important, mature trait to develop for just about everything, even church. But I wouldn't exactly describe it as "fun."

Come to think of it, nuance might be the exact opposite of fun. After all, one of the most important elements of fun is not worrying about anything. All that matters is what you are doing in that current moment. And nuance is definitely concerned about more than the present moment.

But you know what looks fun? Hero worship (or, for that matter, villain hatred). Sometimes I see people on social media who are all in for a particular idea or politician. From what I see, only one thing is true -- that their guy is the BEST. I look at that kind of devotion and think, "Wow. I am really concerned by this . . . and also a little jealous of how excited you are about this person."

I was thinking about this idea, and I realized something. I don't need to bring nuance to my worship. There is no "two things are true" about God. Only one thing needs to be true -- that God is good and worthy of worship. 

But if you are becoming accustomed to a "two things are true" way of thinking, how can you switch to "one thing is true" when it comes to God?

The answer came to me when my three-year-old looked out the window through the leafless trees and sang "I love to see the temple." It came when my one-year-old gave me a big grin. It comes whenever they give me hugs. It comes when they learn new words.

The answer is delight. No matter how much nuance I bring to parenting, no matter how much I learn to predict their behaviors and respond well to them, I can never predict which moments will delight me. In their moments of sweetness, I no longer feel like I have to manage the situation or be the grownup with the prefrontal cortex. In those moments, only one thing is true -- we love each other.

And maybe that's what worship can be about. We can bring as much nuance to our callings, church culture, and even scriptures as we feel like we need. But once that's in place, our relationship with God can be about delight. After all, even though He is omniscient, I bet He feels the same kind of delight in us that we feel toward our kids. And the same kind of simple love our kids feel for us is probably the kind of love He wants from us, too.

And it's in that love -- that simple, delightful, even fun love -- that we find the building blocks for true joy.