A friend of mine suggested the topic of “unbelieving joy” for a blog post.  Thanks, Mark!  It was a wonderful suggestion.  The topic is based on a story from the ending of Luke’s Gospel.

‘Luke 24:36   “As they were talking about these things, Jesus himself stood among them, and said to them, “Peace to you!” ³⁷ But they were startled and frightened and thought they saw a spirit. ³⁸ And he said to them, “Why are you troubled, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? ³⁹ See my hands and my feet, that it is I myself. Touch me, and see. For a spirit does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” ⁴⁰ And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. ⁴¹ And while they still disbelieved for joy and were marveling, he said to them, “Have you anything here to eat?” ⁴² They gave him a piece of broiled fish, ⁴³ and he took it and ate before them.

Luke 24:44   Then he said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you, that everything written about me in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms must be fulfilled.” ⁴⁵ Then he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures, ⁴⁶ and said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, ⁴⁷ and that repentance for the forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. ⁴⁸ You are witnesses of these things. ⁴⁹ And behold, I am sending the promise of my Father upon you. But stay in the city until you are clothed with power from on high.”’ (Luke 24:36-49, English Standard Version)

The context is this: Jesus had been crucified and buried.  The disciples were confused, sad, and terrified.  In fact, they were devastated.

Several people had claimed that they had seen Jesus alive, but most of his disciples found this somewhere between difficult to believe and absolutely impossible to believe.  They were still confused, sad, and terrified.

Then Jesus—initially incognito—walked to the village of Emmaus, talking with two of his disciples who were going that way.  They didn’t know who this Guy was, but they did know that a blaze had been ignited in their hearts by his words.  He had linked the tragic events of Jesus’ sufferings with the Words of their Scriptures, which we call the Old Testament.

This Stranger acted like he was going to travel beyond Emmaus, but the two disciples urged him to stay with them.  He consented.  And while they were having dinner, the Stranger had taken the bread, given thanks, broke the bread, and started to pass it around.  And suddenly, their eyes were opened, and they knew that this was no stranger.  This was Jesus!

He disappeared, and so did they.  They hustled back to Jerusalem as best they could in the gathering gloom of night.  They went to the place where the eleven disciples and others were hiding out, and said, “We have seen the Lord!”  This was apparently what the disciples were talking about when Jesus himself showed up.

They thought they were seeing a ghost.  Of course they did!  “Dead men tell no tales.”  When you’ve bought the ranch, the sale is final.  No refunds.  Right?

It is so much easier to believe in ghosts than that a dead man can be raised from the dead.  It is easier, much easier to believe in ghosts or in another explanation, than it is to believe in resurrection.  We can believe in anything else, or nothing at all.  But resurrection??  Come on now!

The disciples were as much unbelieving believers as you and I are.  In fact, one of the things that lends credibility to the gospel accounts is how the disciples are portrayed.  If I had made up the story, I would not have had the disciples be this clueless.  And tradition tells us that at least two of the Gospels were written by two of the original twelve apostles.  I flat out would not have painted a picture of myself as these apostles paint.  And even if the accounts were not written by the apostles themselves (Luke clearly was not one of the twelve), I would not have portrayed the early heroes of the faith as such bumbling fools.

But I want you to notice in particular that one of the reasons they couldn’t (or didn’t?) believe was because of their joy.  According to verse 41, even after Jesus had spoken to them, even after he had shown them the nasty scars in his hands and feet, they still didn’t believe.  And Luke gives a rather surprising reason for this.

Luke says that it was because they were too amazed to believe.  I can believe that.  Sometimes, things are simply too strange, too amazing to take in all at once.  I can’t wrap my mind around certain things, so a thick fog rolls into my mind.  I can’t understand and I can’t believe.  Often people will say, “If I saw a miracle, I would believe.”  No you wouldn’t!  You’d be totally disoriented.

So the not-believing-because-of-amazement—that I can believe.

But Luke also says that the disciples couldn’t believe because of their joy.  That has always struck me as odd.  Until now, that is.

Some things are just too good to be true.  And so, we opt for truth, rather than for joy.  At least, we opt for what we take to be true, over joy.

Paul Simon has a wonderful song called “Something So Right.”  Here are some of the lyrics:

“When something goes wrong
I’m the first to admit it
I’m the first to admit it
But the last one to know
When something goes right
Well it’s likely to lose me
It’s apt to confuse me
It’s such an unusual sight
I can’t get used to something so right
Something so right.”

Maybe joy is like “something so right.”  It is apt to confuse us.

But it’s deeper than that, isn’t it?  The truth is that most of us don’t think we deserve joy.  We’ve done screwy, wrong things.  We’ve messed up our own and other people’s lives to the point where we are messes.  No, most of us are scared to death of joy, because deep in our hearts, we know we don’t deserve it.

We are not simply surprised by joy, as C. S. Lewis said in his spiritual autobiography.  (To the surprise of no one it is entitled “Surprised by Joy.”)  We are not surprised; we are shocked by joy—so much so that we can’t even function or believe.

But is joy really about our deserving it?  Or is joy about grace—especially the grace of God?  What if joy is a gift?

I write these thoughts as questions because I too have a difficult time believing in joy.  And when joy ambushes me, I have a difficult time believing because of joy.

I think I’ll choose belief and joy, as well as belief in joy today.  How about you?