Please click the link to watch Rev. Cynthia Snavely’s video recording of this sermon.
Reading: “Welcome Morning” by Anne Sexton
“There is joy
in all:
in the hair I brush each morning,
in the Cannon towel, newly washed,
that I rub my body with each morning,
in the chapel of eggs I cook
each morning,
in the outcry from the kettle
that heats my coffee
each morning,
in the spoon and the chair
that cry “hello there, Anne”
each morning,
in the godhead of the table
that I set my silver, plate, cup upon
each morning.
“All this is God,
right here in my pea-green house
each morning
and I mean,
though often forget,
to give thanks,
to faint down by the kitchen table
in a prayer of rejoicing
as the holy birds at the kitchen window
peck into their marriage of seeds.
“So while I think of it,
let me paint a thank-you on my palm
for this God, this laughter of the morning,
lest it go unspoken.
“The Joy that isn’t shared, I’ve heard,
dies young.”
***
I love this poem by Anne Sexton. If you are not a morning person you may have to shift to an evening focus in your mind, but I am a morning person. I make sure to get up in enough time to have two hours for myself in the morning. I play several of the New York Times word puzzles, I play Words with Friends, I eat oatmeal with blueberries and roasted California blend vegetables—the same thing every morning, but one of my favorite meals. I take a hot shower. Both my parents grew up without indoor plumbing or central heat. I can just go into the bathroom, flip the light switch, turn on the water, and have that hot shower. What a joy.
As Sexton writes, “All this is God,
right here in my… house
each morning
and I mean,
though often forget,
to give thanks,
to faint down by the kitchen table
in a prayer of rejoicing….”
Yes, perhaps, getting that promotion at work, or winning that career honor, or that surprise party your friends gave for you brought you joy, but those things don’t happen every month or every week or every day. It is so often the simple, ordinary things that bring us joy on a regular basis; a baby’s laugh; an older couple holding hands, obviously in love with each other; seeing a fox or deer on a walk through the woods; the sound of the ocean and the seagulls at the beach on a sunny summer day; a beautiful sunrise or sunset, your cat cuddling up next to you and purring loudly; your dog snoring at your feet; your love remembering to give you a hug and a kiss as they go out the door.
Most of us have much to rejoice in. My daughter called this week to tell me that she now had a firm job offer for the possible job she had told me about. She had not been working the first year of my youngest grandchild’s life. This job will be working Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights, 38 hours in 3 days. Her sister has agreed to take the baby for the weekend. My daughter said it is the best possible schedule she could have gotten for still having time with my granddaughter and the older children. She has to take a required training course that hasn’t been scheduled yet, so the job probably won’t start until December, but she was excited about it.
She and the baby were out DoorDashing with her boyfriend when she called me. He is a military contractor, and so currently out of work with the government shutdown. But my daughter said they are extremely fortunate. Despite the shutdown, they have been able to pay all the bills, and no one has gone to bed hungry. Another joy.
To quote Sexton again,
“So while I think of it,
let me paint a thank-you on my palm
for this God, this laughter of the morning,
lest it go unspoken.
“The Joy that isn’t shared, I’ve heard,
dies young.”
My daughter shared her joy with me, and her joy and mine were multiplied.
It is joy recognized and joy shared that often gets us through the rough patches of our lives. I remember my maternal grandfather’s fiftieth birthday. My mother, aunts and the sons-in-law gave him a unicycle for his birthday. Apparently, at some point he had said he wanted to learn to ride one. My grandfather was prone to depression, but for one afternoon, his family spent time encouraging him to ride a unicycle and trying themselves.
I remember being out in my grandparents’ backyard, starting at the pole at one end of the clothesline and trying to pull ourselves down the lines to the pole at the other end. An uncle was the only one who made it very far, but there was a lot of laughter as we tried. I hope it gave my grandfather some joy.
Most of you, I am sure, know the lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein to Richard Rodgers tune “My Favorite Things.”
“Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things
“Cream-colored ponies and crisp apple strudels
Doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles
Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings
These are a few of my favorite things
“Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes
Silver white winters that melt into springs
These are a few of my favorite things
“When the dog bites, when the bee stings
When I’m feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don’t feel so bad.”
What are those favorite things, the things that bring joy? Your list may be different than Hammerstein’s, but I bet you could make one.
And we have badly needed that list this year. Each day it seems there is something new on the news to worry about. Our immigrant neighbors are being detained and deported. Our federal worker neighbors are being laid off. Our universities and lower schools are being told what they can teach and what they cannot. Food is being withheld from people in need around the world and here at home. The rights of people who identify as transgender are being targeted.
We are not going to get through this if we do not find ways to keep some joy in our lives. Sexton says of the things that bring her joy, “All this is God… So while I think of it, let me paint a thank-you on my palm for this God, this laughter of the morning…”
You can take issue with her use of the word God in this way, but I like it. In fact, God is used in this way in one of my favorite hymns in our hymnal, “A Firemist and a Planet.” The second verse seems particularly appropriate for this time of year: “Haze on the far horizon, the infinite tender sky, the ripe, rich tints of cornfields, and wild geese sailing high; and over high and lowland, the charm of goldenrod—some people call it autumn, and others call it God.” If God is what sustains us, then surely all that brings us joy can be called God.
“So while I think of it,
let me paint a thank-you on my palm
for this God, this laughter of the morning,
lest it go unspoken.
“The Joy that isn’t shared, I’ve heard,
dies young.”
Those lines reminded me of some quotes from Alice Walker in her book The Color Purple: “I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice it. People think pleasing God is all God cares about. But any fool living in the world can see it always trying to please us back.”
and
“…have you ever found God in church? I never did. I just found a bunch of folks hoping for (God) to show. Any God I ever felt in church I brought in with me. And I think all the other folks did too. They come to church to share God, not find God.”
Call it sharing joy or call it sharing God. I don’t care. I just implore you to do it. It will keep you sane, and it will also strengthen those with whom you share it. Notice all that brings you joy. And don’t keep that joy for yourself alone. You won’t lose any of it by giving it away.
A final poem, this one by Mary Oliver, is titled “Don’t Hesitate.”
“If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy,
don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty
of lives and whole towns destroyed or about
to be. We are not wise, and not very often
kind. And much can never be redeemed.
Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this
is its way of fighting back, that sometimes
something happens better than all the riches
or power in the world. It could be anything,
but very likely you notice it in the instant
when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the
case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid
of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.”
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