"Scary Joy"
1 Corinthians 15:12-20
Yonce Shelton, Westmoreland United Church of Christ
Feb. 16, 2025
I did a scary thing this week. I did what I often ask you to do. I showed up with a focus on faith and scripture, and sought to find joy. And the joy I found is hard.
I have not preached for two weeks, so I had lots of time to craft this sermon. I thought about using a passage that showed joy in action - like Jesus healing someone - but decided to join you in being however I was this week, to see where joy might be found. So instead of searching for a scripture to help make points about joy, I trusted the lectionary readings for this week and opened to those. This is what grabbed me from today’s 1 Corinthians reading:
“If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile, and you are still in your sins. Then those also who have died in Christ have perished. If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied.”
Simply put, this says to me: I must lean into how my understanding of the resurrection affects my faith and how I act in this life because I believe in the next.
While that provides hope, it is also very scary. It makes me ask: How strong is my faith? What will I do because of it? Do I believe that my very being, witness, and sacrifice transcends this world into the next? To what depth do I believe in resurrection - in ways that inform how I act in times of challenge?
Frank Crouch stresses the practicality of Paul’s view of resurrection. “[Paul] points us beyond what we might or might not believe, aiming to reach deeply, as far down into truth as we can go. For Paul, this is not an abstract theological argument … but a fundamental reality we can stake our lives on … that resurrection lies right beside love at the concrete, indispensable center of the Law, the Prophets, the Writings, and the Gospel.”
The best descriptor I have for honoring the mystery of Christ’s resurrection - and that my life is bound to it - is scary joy.
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So yes, I found joy this week. And yes, that honors the invitation I offer you each Sunday. I definitely am not faking what this passage makes me think and feel. I wonder where that awareness will lead.
I wondered that Sunday afternoon after church as I drove six hours by myself to Tennessee to be with my Dad for a surgery. Early in the drive, I had a conversation with someone working with a pro-democracy group about recent targeting of religious nonprofits for “waste and fraud” in their humanitarian work. He was worried about what would come next; about more risks to faith-based organizations, churches, and the broader nonprofit sector; about what could be done to protect religious organizations via political engagement.
You may have seen that the Central Atlantic Conference of the UCC is a named plaintiff in a lawsuit regarding the Reversal of the Department of Homeland Security’s “Sensitive Locations” Policy. The CAC is part of twenty-seven Jewish and Christian denominational bodies that are filing this action through the Georgetown Center for Faith and Justice and the Georgetown Institute for Constitutional Advocacy and Protection. The suit claims under the Religious Freedom Restoration Act that subjecting our congregations to Immigration Customs and Enforcement (ICE) enforcement actions without judicial warrants interferes and places a burden on both our religious activities and our ability to fulfill our call to welcome and serve immigrant communities.
I began to consider risk. I asked myself: How far might my faith take me? How strongly do I believe?
“If for this life only [I] have hoped in Christ, [I am] of all people most to be pitied.”
There is joy in the final line of today’s scripture: “But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have died.” I do truly find hope and joy that Christ’s resurrection is connected to ours. It reminds me that life is so much bigger than I often realize. I have had those moments - mystical? - reminding me we are part of something so much greater than what is right in front of us. I believe that. I try to act on that. I also believe that when we think we are close to figuring God out because of these experiences - then we aren’t even close to understanding God. Not even close. There can be frustration in those times - or joy if we have the right spirit.
Even in affirming the grandness of God and having some joy around that, I’m still scared. I think of Bruce telling us a few weeks ago that all the books of the Bible were written in conflict. I wonder what might need to be “written” by the church at this time. I wonder what I’m made of, if that requires risk.
Many of you are inspired, moved, and spiritually strengthened by the music Alec and our choir offer. In a similar way, I am often grounded and focused by more modern music. A rock or country album often catches my spirit and becomes the soundtrack for where I am, what I need, and what I need to do. An album by Jason Isbell has challenged me over past years. It even helped define my intention and action during a silent retreat I did around this time last year. It is those spaces where I come to know and feel more about things like resurrection. In recent weeks, one line from that album has been in my head: “Thought I was strong until I had to fight.”
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Today’s call to worship was the Beatitudes, in which Jesus highlights that true happiness comes from embracing a life of humility and caring for the marginalized. It emphasizes God's preferential love for the downtrodden, reflecting a focus on social justice. This passage affirms our focus on others and provides part of the strategy for acting in a world in need. It gives me joy to hear it and remember why we strive to care for others. I could have preached on it today and sent you out with a boost to serve more.
But, the 1 Corinthians passage called to me because it seems harder: it's more about the core faith and trust needed to be from a place with Christ that allows us to serve with conviction despite challenge. It addresses a critical part of the inward journey that defies knowing exactly what to do. I believe that comprehending what it says at a spiritual level provides a freedom to know and share joy in a new way. That kind of joy doesn’t happen at the head level. It is something much deeper, and we probably can’t get there by pure will.
I'll be honest with you. I don’t know what my “‘level” of joy is now. But I do know that I continue to lean into faith in God, partly because of the faith in action I witness in others; partly because of crazy ways God meets me in key moments to help me keep going; and partly because - no matter how scary - I am inspired and energized by communities like this where I see you leaning into faith and conviction. Today, I offer honesty about the messy, complicated, confusing, and demanding faith I am living right now, so that it may connect with the faith you are seeking to know and live. Sometimes that is done by following John Wesley’s advice to ministers when faith isn’t so clear: “Preach faith until you have faith, and when you have faith you will preach faith."
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I have faith. At least I think I do. Both the confidence and questioning scare me. And - and - there is so much mysterious joy weaving throughout that. So I preach today from a place of invitation. This sermon flowed from spirit to page pretty quickly. But it was probably years in the making. And it's not meant to be dramatic or concerning. In my younger days I might have said: I hope this makes sense. But sorry, you don’t get that. With all due respect, I’m not sure I care if you get it at the head level. Faith, trust, and risk are different flavors and magnitudes for each of us. I’ve put the best words to mine that I can, but really just hope you’ve felt the place from which they have been offered. What can you name about faith and joy for yourself? Where does that come from?
I’ve said it several times in past weeks: joy can be different for each of us. I choose to welcome joy, not because it makes me feel good, but because it reminds me of the central tenet of our faith: that death does not have the final word. And that our story has been written and edited in times of struggle.
I must lean into how my understanding of the resurrection affects my faith and how I act in this life because I believe in the next. I want to stake my life on that fundamental reality. Not because I understand it theologically in my head, but because I feel something true when I consider how Jesus called us to understand a different way - and what He did to witness to that.
What do you feel? What do you know that defies description? Or, what do you want to know?
I’m OK with joy being scary. It reminds me that I am onto something important; something bigger than me; something that affirms we are ALL in this together. My prayer is that we are open enough to let God show us what deep joy means for commitment - and that we’ll be ready for the ways spiritual joy may cradle us, guide us through storms, call us to action, and scare us.
Amen.
