Our God is a ....... MERRY God. That is what came to my mind this morning while I was standing on our back porch in the rising June sun. This came to me as I looked down at the bobbing Zinnias in their pots. I defy anyone to look at the absolute circus going on at the center of a Zinnia and not believe that God delights in merriment.
Where did we get our dreams of fairies, Hobbits, Elves, if not from the One who created our minds? Where came the absolute abandon of a six month old baby belly laughing uncontrollably at the antics of his father's face above him, the energy of a puppy fetching a thrown ball over and over again with unending enthusiasm, the absolute delight of renegade day lilies defying the control of careful gardeners, and popping up like laughing Jack in the Boxes at the oddest places?
The colors of merriment abound in June like sacramentals of God's laughter at the bounty of His creation.
This merriment is deep, innocent, true: unlike all its counterfeits that we know so well. It is not self indulgent like sarcasm, or banal like the lazy laughter at ugly things. This merriment comes at a price. It comes to the man "who desires not worthless things".
Worthless things like control that fears any surprise, or seeking the upper hand in every conversation or argument, trend setting, belonging to the inner ring, honor at all costs, fear of being wrong, fear of being different, being the Queen Bee in every group. All these things bring only a tight feeling in the soul. A carefully crafted structure built and maintained with constant stress and fear of being toppled.
But God says, "Let it topple!" And see what happens. You may suddenly hear Puck whispering in your ear with great delight, the merry words, "Oh what fools these mortals be!" And you might look at yourself and laugh just like that six month old baby with a great belly laugh at your own foolish antics.
God's merriment is everywhere. It comes to those who seek it. It came to St. Francis with his two sticks playing "fiddle songs to the Lord", or John Bosco somersaulting his way into the hearts of God's children, of St. Teresa of Avila's wonderful humor and witty reminders to her nuns of their "womanly foibles".
It is like these zinnias, these happy colors on a porch in the heart of a city whispering of a Kingdom that is just beyond our reach, that we can hear if we are very quiet, the hilarity of the Communion of Saints who enjoy the laughter of their Father's embrace because they learned not to desire worthless things.
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