When I was a college student, our beloved professor
Clifton Inman related a true story about joy in homes. A Christian
man was seeking help in addressing his difficulties in life. He
had no happiness; he had no joy. His own conclusion on the matter
related to his own childhood as the son of a grim father. He described
the problem to brother Inman like this: "My Dad never whistled."
The whistling or lack thereof was not the problem. In his mind,
the silence was a symptom of a joyless home.
My Dad never whistled either, but only because
he couldn't whistle! On occasion he would try, but only if we
begged long and hard, and maybe even if we promised not to laugh
at him. I guess he knew the promises were in jest, because only
a fool trusts a giggled promise. So after tormenting and tantalizing
us, he would indulge us by puckering up, twisting his face into
his famous "gopher face," and producing a sound similar
to a gas leak. On several long, boring car trips, we laughed ourselves
silly together. I know some sad folks who think that it was wasted
time. It wasn't. That 1967 Mercury station wagon is long gone,
and now Dad is; but I can still hear the laughter. It didn't die.
What a burden it must be to have a Dad who has nothing about which
to whistle.
Dad never whistled, but he sang funny songs, pulled
funny pranks, and told funny jokes until the day he died. Nobody
ever laughed harder than he did, especially at his own jokes;
Dad never really mastered the dead pan delivery. My friends loved
Dad, even though my home was a scary place. This was because Dad
would often be lurking in some closet preparing to leap out and
scare us half to death. When Dad played games, he played at top
speed, and nothing pleased him more than beating us youngsters
who were, as he put it, "not smart enough to beat me!"
Fortunately, we knew nothing of psychology, so we were not emotionally
scarred. Until the day Dad died, Robin and I would provoke him
until he chased us, threatening to whip us. Some might say, "I
can't believe a gospel preacher would carry on so." I thank
God that Dad didn't agree.
I believe in joy. I believe in the joy of Christianity,
the joy of a faithful congregation, and the joy in a Christian
home. I believe in the pure joy of living because God believes
in it. In Philippians 4:4 the apostle Paul wrote, "Rejoice
in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice!" He meant
it. I have known Christians and congregations who seemed to be
suspicious of joy. They seem to equate joylessness with reverence.
God through Paul commanded both joy and sobriety. 1 Thessalonians
5:6, "Therefore let us not sleep, as do others; but let us
watch and be sober." There is no tension between these great
Bible truths because sobriety is not the opposite of joy at all.
Neither is happiness the opposite of reverence, as some seem to
think.
Is too much joy dangerously close to irreverence?
Consider Galatians 5:22-23, "But the fruit of the Spirit
is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,
gentleness, self-control. Against such there is no law."
If happiness leads to irreverence, why does the apostle classify
joy as a quality that cannot be limited and rationed? I'm not
advocating any hint of the unauthorized activities that are so
common today. You see, just as joy is not the opposite of sobriety,
it also does not originate with self indulgence. I am advocating
joy, happiness, and, yes, even laughter, as we do those things
that God commanded us to do. To ignore what God says about joy
is just as sinful as any other exercise in self justification.
Now, more than ever before, I understand the urgency
of painting joyous memories. People have told me such wonderful
things since Dad died. They have spoken of his razor sharp mind,
his thorough knowledge of scripture, and his skill as a preacher;
but it was eleven years ago that Dad received one of his greatest
compliments. A St. Marys resident, not a member of the Lord's
church, was attending our Bert Thompson apologetics seminar. The
fellow is a musician, and he and Dad were acquainted. He asked
me about Dad's health and then commented, "I believe your
Dad is the most jovial man I've ever met." I am certain there
are some false teachers and church bosses who disagree! But I
considered his compliment high praise for any Christian. It helps
me to remember all of the joy ... punctuated by a sound like gas
leaking from a pipe. -704 Dewey Avenue, St. Marys, WV 26170.