Joyful joyful

By Emilie Bouvier

A week ago Saturday, as I stared at a shiny silver balloon reflecting blue sky, leafy trees, and big smiles, I tried to put my finger on the sense of joy I was experiencing.

We were gathering in the backyard of Redeemer Lutheran Church to celebrate the big strides we’ve made in our organizing work – passing the 100% Clean Energy legislation and the Restore the Vote bill. This was big. One sets new benchmarks for utilities and ensures expanded access to clean energy; the other will mean residents returning from incarceration will be able to vote. These are historic steps that will make a huge difference in people’s lives, and when you get a chance to celebrate, it’s important to celebrate big!

“When you get a chance to celebrate, it’s important to celebrate big!”

Joy and celebration are so important, and we had the balloons and banquet food to prove it! But this joy runs deeper than the giddy glee of childhood birthday parties of which the decor reminded me. What could we learn from Psalm 30, that recognized the grief and journey contained in this joy? Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning.

As I looked out at the gathering of synod leaders, coalition partners, and neighbors, I knew we had been through the night together. And there we were, sharing the tangible goodness of a new dawn. It’s easy to get worn down in the struggle and holding joy for each other is a part of how we stay resilient and care for one another.

YET THIS IS NOT a simple or shallow joy, but one that takes seriously the work. Part of the sweetness and solidarity in our joy was that we walked together through the times of weeping. We lamented the loss of dignity in people having voting rights stripped away during long probation periods. We cried out against these policies that don’t serve the interests of rebuilding communities and perpetuate the embedded racism of the criminal justice system. We grieved the harm our way-out-of-whack energy systems have continued to cause, as unsustainability steamrolls ahead.

One by one, as different voices stepped up to the microphone, we knew the weight of what we had carried up to this moment. A different kind of joy emerged in these breakthrough moments of witnessing real change – the joy of dignity restored, new pathways forged, and hopeful rebuilding, and the delight of sharing community wrapped around it all.

“A different kind of joy emerged in these breakthrough moments of witnessing real change.”

One leader spoke of seeing serious policy steps to address climate change that he thought seemed impossible, and that this network of leaders organizing together gave him so much hope.

Another leader spoke about how he feels his voice and his vote matter after years of feeling blocked out of our collective decisions.

There were people in conversation with others they had never met, expressions of excitement and connection on their faces.

A pastor shared that she totally re-wrote her sermon for the next day, transformed by the stories shared and time to talk over lunch.

Over and over, people named that showing up matters, that this is faith-rooted and sacred work, and that they were deeply grateful to be a part of it.

My hope is that this swirling mix of pride, hope, and gratitude catches your spirit too in these days. Or, if nothing else, that these joyful moments from the photobooth that day make you smile!