Last night I went with my wife to an annual appreciation dinner for volunteers serving in Project Worthmore, an amazing non-profit outreach focusing on refugees and asylum-seekers in Denver. Bev has previously served as a classroom assistant and now, for the last year, an ESL teacher—helping the marginalized and poor find their footing (and hope for their future) in a charged culture vastly different from their own. The theme for the night was “Retain an Affinity for Joy,” a phrase taken from the brilliant and moving collection of poems by David Gate called A Rebellion of Care. The full quote from Gate is profound, and an invitation into the grit we desperately need as we plow through a minefield of atrocities in our culture…
“In the accumulation of loss,
retain an affinity for joy
& know that some truths
are only illuminated by tears.”
Fighting back her own tears, Project Worthmore’s Volunteer Coordinator shared how important these words have been for her as the organization works, day and night, to protect and serve an immigrant community under siege. An “affinity for joy” is our engine of perseverance and grit. And for those who are extending the heart of Jesus into dark and threatening places in our communities, grit matters. Sometimes, it’s the difference between life and death. But though we’re often desperate for it, our supply is sorely limited. We can’t generate it for very long, or very deeply, on our own. All too often, circumstances push us to the end of ourselves.
Like Sisyphus, the mythological Greek king condemned to roll a boulder up a hill for eternity, our everyday boulders test the limits of our endurance. Ultimately, we need a source of strength outside of ourselves to help us face and overcome our defeats and disappointments and disillusionments. Especially now, when opening a news app or watching late-night TV comes with a side order of PTSD. We need something more than mere grit. We need spiritual grit…
Spiritual grit invigorates our determined response to life’s challenges with a massive infusion of God’s core strength. We may still have a hulking boulder in front of us and a daunting hill to summit, but because we are intimately connected to a source of strength that is far greater than our own, we’re able to keep pushing past our normal limitations. The Apostle Paul describes the mechanics of spiritual grit in his letter to the Roman followers of Jesus:
“We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love” (Romans 5:3-5).
A heart that is filled up with the love of God endures when endurance seems humanly impossible. When Jesus advises his disciples that “it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of God” they respond with despair: “Then who in the world can be saved?” Well, Jesus tells them, “humanly speaking, it is impossible. But with God everything is possible” (Matthew 19:24-26). Our impossible boulder-challenges are made possible only because our dependent relationship with God gives us access to his been-there, done-that grit.
With the Holy Spirit “filling our hearts with his love,” our problems and trials are the on-ramp to a life characterized by endurance, character, confidence, and hope. We stick with our mission-impossibles, no matter what. We lean into costly advocacy, trembling but determined. And we find ourselves retaining our affinity for joy in the middle of it all, because nothing is more deeply satisfying than overcoming the darkness with the light that is within us. In the close company of Jesus we live in a veil of tears, mindful of the greater truth that Casey Musgraves highlights in her song “Rainbow”:
When it rains, it pours
But you didn’t even notice it ain’t rainin’ anymore
It’s hard to breathe when all you know is
The struggle of stayin’ above the risin’ water line
Well, the sky has finally opened
The rain and wind stopped blowin’
But you’re stuck out in the same ol’ storm again
You hold tight to your umbrella
Well, darlin’, I’m just tryin’ to tell ya
That there’s always been a rainbow hangin’ over your head
Note: For a deeper dive into the rhythms of perseverance in the life of a disciple, check out my book Spiritual Grit.
Rick Lawrence is Executive Director of Vibrant Faith—he created the new curriculum Following Jesus. He’s editor of the Jesus-Centered Bible and author of 40 books, including his new release Editing Jesus: Confronting the Distorted Faith of the American Church, The Suicide Solution, The Jesus-Centered Life and Jesus-Centered Daily. He hosts the podcast Paying Ridiculous Attention to Jesus.