S11: The Waiting Room

E3: Connected to Everything and Attached to Nothing 

Joy, in the biblical sense, is a choice. It’s not something that happens to you. It happens within you. St. James wrote that we are to “count it pure joy”[1] whenever we face challenging times. If we are to espouse joy in difficult seasons of life, why does there seem to be a lack of intentionally embracing this heartening experience?  

Well, we have a wealth of information through multiple platforms available to us. News, whether they’re fake, spun, or genuine, informs us about our world. An unfiltered tsunami of information can create poverty in our attention. Without real attentiveness, we’re connected to everything, yet attached to nothing. It may be our attention-deficit that distracts us from intentionally choosing joy. 

Let me explain.  

Recently, I was standing right in the center of the finest example of perpendicular gothic English

architecture – King’s College Chapel at Cambridge University. Under the world’s largest fan vault ceiling, I began to imagine King Henry IV commissioning the Chapel’s construction that would span across the reign of nine English monarchs from 1446-1515. Such royal ambition!

Before the fictitious Houses of Targaryen, Lannister, Greyjoy, Tyrell, Baratheon, Martell, Arryn, Stark, and Tully in The Game of Thrones, there were real family houses that ruled in England. Lancaster, York, and Tudor attest to the Chapel of “Kings” during its construction, and the ego of Henry VIII (Tudor). From the War of the Roses until its completion in early Renaissance, this gravity defying Chapel, with its 80 ft ceiling and 12 magnificent stained-glass windows, became a British icon of ingenuity and imagination!

Over five centuries of real global influencers[2] graduated from King’s College. Poets, scientists, logicians, economists, politicians, physicists, composers, screenwriters, mathematicians, statisticians, futurists, diplomats, spies, statesmen, barristers, psychologists, judges, chemists, and “Gandalf” or Ian McKellen! Attending chapel services was required from all of them.

Prolonging my imagination where I stood, I closed my eyes and thought about centuries of worship and prayer, and the mischievous behavior of college students during a chapel service or festival celebration. Perhaps this is what the Book of Hebrews calls “the great cloud of witnesses”?[3] I think so, at least in part. Hearts and minds were shaped in this place, in one way or another, and continue to do so today.

I opened my eyes and what did I see?

People from all over the world slouching over their seats, leaning against the walls, or squatting on the floor watching something or other on their smartphones. A wealth of information available to everyone on each screen lighting up the face of each person with seemingly no attention given to their historical and iconic surroundings. Each one, instantly connected to the world but hopelessly unaware of the richness of their surroundings as redundant local historians in their uniform blazers waited for questions that did not seem to come.

The irony of it all was reinforced as a continual stream of selfies were taken from the nave, transept, aisles, chancel, choir stalls, apse, aumbry, misericords, lectern, and pulpit. Ironic because the focus of attention was on “self” and not the beauty and majesty of our surroundings.

I’m not being judgmental, neither am I anti-smartphone, and I am not referring to attention deficit disorder (ADD) or its cousin attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). I can be just as distracted by too much information, I have a smartphone, and I probably qualify as ADD. I’m simply illustrating my point that biblical joy is a choice that happens in us by intention, especially in challenging times. Such a choice is what St. James meant by “pure joy”.[4]

He conveys the thought of a whole experience, not dissected into parts overly analyzed, choosing this part over that, but rather embracing an experience wholly with all its delightful and dreadful moments. We are created, or made, to cope with both ends of the experiential spectrum – though it is unhealthy to dwell on either end for prolonged periods of time. To cope on the experiential spectrum, there must be something greater within us that gives purpose and meaning to all our experiences.

In the Christian faith, the promise that God is always with us provides the context for coping. In fact, during Advent, we will hear this context when the Scripture is read or sung, “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”).

There are many in the field of social science who would disagree with me claiming “Immanuel” is nothing more than an invisible cosmic friend fashioned by our imagination. Or more generally, “Immanuel” is simply optimism, wishful thinking, positivity, hoping for the best, or looking on the bright side of life – as Monty Python would have us think.

Despite the wealth of information available to us on multiple platforms, our attention needs to focus on Immanuel, or God with us, in those challenging times. St. John explained, “the One [Christ] who is in you is greater”[5], and John the Baptist confessed, “He [Christ] must become greater; I must become less.”[6] Quite often, a poverty of attention hinders the profound joy we have in knowing that God is with us. Instead, our connection to everything gives equal opportunity to many voices that can be no more than empty philosophy.[7]

I began by describing the scene at King’s College Chapel that gave me a strong impression there was a wide-spread attention-deficit. I’ll conclude by painting the picture of another scene with similar historical and iconic surroundings.

I stood by the nave in Lincoln Cathedral built over a thousand years ago. As I looked around, I concluded there were people from all over the world. Each one had a smartphone taking their selfies. Suddenly, a voice announced, “A reading from the Psalms!” In the pulpit was an English Vicar before a live microphone reading from the Book of Psalms. I looked around and everyone – and I mean everyone – stood still and gave him their attention. For a moment in time, our attention was upon the Word of God as it was read, despite the probability of different faiths or no faith represented in the people. The Vicar concluded, “The Word of the Lord” to which a remnant few replied, “Thanks be to God”.

Surely, this is the purpose of Advent in the third week where our focus is on joy. We pause, listen, and reflect on the promise of God: Immanuel, God is with us. Take time to minimize all the other voices that compete for your attention and listen to Him.

In 1868, Philip Brooks wrote the well-known Christmas Carol O, Little Town of Bethlehem. The third verse is a timely invitation. 

How silently, how silently,
the wondrous gift is given;
so God imparts to human hearts
the blessings of his heaven.
No ear may hear his coming,
but in this world of sin,
where meek souls will receive him, still
the dear Christ enters in.

This Christmastime, in the third week of Advent, let Christ enter into your life thereby finding the kind of joy that will sustain you through challenging times that may come in 2023.

[1] James 1:2.

[2] I say “real” as their post-graduation work contributed significantly to our way of life in the West.

[3] Hebrews 12:1-2.

[4] Ibid.

[5] 1 John 4:4.

[6] John 3:30.

[7] Colossians 2:8.