This past weekend was a big one at Oriole Park at Camden Yards.
After more than seven innings of jumping as if their shoes had caught fire, dancing like their pants were quite literally full of ants and casually throwing limbs in every direction anatomically possible, both my kids and our friends’ kids wound up on the big screen. They were jubilant.
Also, the Orioles won — which isn’t something we can say a lot these days.
But it was those few seconds of stadium-wide glory that really stuck with our girls on the way home: “I can’t believe I was on the screen.” When we went around our dinner table to check in on everyone’s favorite part of the day, showing up on the jumbotron was far and away the highlight.
I’m no expert in appearing on the big screen at sporting events. I suffer from not being an adorable, energetic child and from also not appearing terribly interested in the event at hand. I understand that to be a lethal combination for anyone trying to make it onto the screen.
But we knew how to coach the kids: “Look happy! Look excited! Keep jumping! Dance!” In short, exude joy.
It’s a funny thing to try and catch the attention of a camera operator on the far side of a ballpark by the sheer ferocity of your joyful disposition. It’s no wonder I didn’t make the cut. But the job of the camera operator — of the whole production team, in fact — is to be on the lookout for such displays of unbridled delight. After all, they have to put something on that enormous television. Better to fill the time showcasing happy fans.
But there’s something more going on here, I think. Something worthy of our reflection. What does it mean to send out this kind of joy into the world, knowing that someone is looking for it? What does it mean to be on the lookout for such joy, knowing it’s your job to transmit that happy sight to others? What does it mean, in short, to be part of the joy-filled supply chain?
This supply chain means a lot of things, not the least of which is that we all have a role. Are we the ones dancing and singing, sending joy into the world for others? Are we the ones responsible for spotting that joy, for gathering it up and transmitting it to where it needs to be? Or perhaps we’re the ones sitting in the stands in need of a joy-filled injection. We send joy; we receive joy. We do the work of embodying joy so that others may feel what we ourselves try to manifest.
The world is a hard place, you say in response. And I don’t feel very joyful. That’s fair; I understand. But here’s the thing: Our proverbial supply chain can transmit any number of virtues.
I wonder, then, if joy is too hard to summon forth, we might instead turn to hope. Can we find in our beings that foundational virtue? Can we send it out into the world, knowing that there are so many people near and far who need to see it? And not just see it, not just receive a signal, but feel in their very souls that we’re all in this together, that we still go to God together, that we still look for God’s Spirit at work and still strive to build up God’s vision, that the people of God continue to hope “because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the holy Spirit that has been given to us” (Rm 5:5). And so we don’t simply sit and hope but we get up and love and serve — and we do so joyfully.
I wonder, then, if in the home team’s stadium in the Kingdom of God our own faces might show up on the holiest of jumbotrons to show that we continue to muddle onward, that we show joy and hope and all the rest to stir our own souls and those of others along our shared path toward God’s dream.
I’ll wager that if we do this work, if we showcase joy and hope for the good of others and our own consolation, that our holy effort — and its fruits — will be our favorite part of the day.
