Fruits of the Spirit… Joy
By Kathy Silvie
Kathy is the former Director of Christian Education at Edgewood Presbyterian Church in Birmingham, Alabama, USA. She is a specialist in children's ministry, a working mom, and "a woman at the well."

We were sharing tea the other day, Mammo, Margo and I. We were contemplating which of our favorite recipes for sweets would rake in the most money at the bake sale. The subject turned to Joy. Actually the subject of discussion was a friend’s two-year-old, red-headed grandchild, whose name just happens to be Joy.

"Joy is, well, a true JOY! A perfect name for her.", Mammo laughed. "No matter what is happening, the world just lights up when Joy is around!" The mere mention of the child brought a cheery song to my grandmother’s tired voice. Mammo went on, "She sings all the time. And she put her little pink purse on her arm and picked up her doll baby and told us, ‘Joy go to Wal-Mart!’, just as prissy as she could be." It is a joy to hear Mammo laugh again.

Joy. What is joy?

We jump for joy. We sing for joy. We’ve got that joy-joy-joy-joy down in our heart. We have news of great joy.

"Just what is joy?" I asked.

Margo, ever wise and serious, defined the word joy as "happy to the power of 10, a word to describe that which cannot be described". She went on to impose her interpretation, "Joy is an emotion that accompanies a sense of utter, complete, unadulterated peace. Joy comes from God", Margo affirmed. We began calling to mind some of God’s promises -- all of which bring joy.

Mammo was jack-rabbit quick with hers. "Well, for me, at this time of my life, joy is the promise in Revelation, He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no death or mourning or crying or pain anymore."

Margo offered one. "The Joy of the Lord is your strength."

"Ah, yes", nodded Mammo. "Strength. And from James, don’t forget to count life’s tribulations as nothing but joy." Mammo’s early life was dominated by poverty and hard work... She learned at an early age that neither self-pity nor helplessness profits anyone. So count it all to joy. She always did. No matter what, Mammo always found a way to turn it around to joy.

I offered an analogy that joy is a reaction, a response to an event.

Margo suggested that I have a simplistic grasp on life. "In a way, I suppose so," I confessed.

Mammo defended me. A lack of education had not impeded Mammo’s theological study. She had spent her lifetime learning The Word (as she called it). "Now you just wait a minute here, Margo. You go back and read what Saint Paul wrote in his letter to the church of Galatia. The works and the world of the flesh is contrary to the fruits of the spirit, you hear me? There are laws against works of the flesh, you know. But there is no law against the fruits of the spirit. So I don’t think it is simple of her to think that joy is a response." Mammo’s power is of voice, not of might. And we know when she means business.

I opened my Bible and we studied the passage together. We consulted the concordance for other scripture references to the word ’joy’. We agreed that joy is, indeed, a response. It is a justifiable response to God for all the blessings, for the promise to wipe away the tears, for the hope of the Living Water. Mammo echoed the truth found in Nehemiah, in which the people made great rejoicing, because they understood the words that were declared unto them. If any one person could rejoice because of understanding the words that were declared to him or her, it would be our beloved Mammo. For she is Joy, personified.

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