Counting It All Joy

“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” 

—James 1:2-4

There are many things that give me joy—hearing a child laugh, the smell of spring blowing through my house, tasting a cup of coffee in the morning, and receiving a hug and kiss from my wife at night. And there are many other things that I experience that I could easily write down in the “joy” column, but I find that when I read James none of the things that bring me joy is listed. As a matter of fact, I find that James tells me to consider meeting “trials of various kinds” as joy.

Never have I considered facing trials and tribulations as joy until I became a Christian. Trials and tribulations fit more appropriately in the “pain” column. They are things that I dread and loathe to experience. How can the things that cause me the most heartbreak and pain give me joy? It’s like saying, “Count it all joy when you have a broken leg.” Or “count it all joy when you have to go to the dentist’s office.” Or “count it all joy when the wrecking ball destroys my house.” Trials and tribulations don’t equal joy in this world, but James tells us to consider it so. Why?

In his classic work, Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis writes about our Lord’s command to be perfect. And in doing so, he explains how its God’s way of showing us how short we fall and how the pain we experience because of it is God’s means of making us perfect. He writes,

“I find a good many people have been bothered by what I said in the last chapter about Our Lord's words, ‘Be ye perfect.’ Some people seem to think this means ‘Unless you are perfect, I will not help you’; and as we cannot be perfect, then, if He meant that, our position is hopeless. But I do not think He did mean that. I think He meant ‘The only help I will give is help to become perfect. You may want something less: but I will give you nothing less.’

Let me explain. When I was a child I often had toothache, and I knew that if I went to my mother she would give me something which would deaden the pain for that night and let me get to sleep. But I did not go to my mother-at least, not till the pain became very bad. And the reason I did not go was this. I did not doubt she would give me the aspirin; but I knew she would also do something else. I knew she would take me to the dentist next morning. I could not get what I wanted out of her without getting something more, which I did not want. I wanted immediate relief from pain: but I could not get it without having my teeth set permanently right. And I knew those dentists; I knew they started fiddling about with all sorts of other teeth which had not yet begun to ache. They would not let sleeping dogs lie; if you gave them an inch they took an ell.

Now, if I may put it that way, Our Lord is like the dentists. If you give Him an inch, He will take an ell. Dozens of people go to Him to be cured of some one particular sin which they are ashamed of (like masturbation or physical cowardice) or which is obviously spoiling daily life (like bad temper or drunkenness). Well, He will cure it all right: but He will not stop there. That may be all you asked; but if once you call Him in, He will give you the full treatment.”—C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, Book IV, Chapter 9.

Lewis’ point is that God wants to do something in us beyond anything we can fathom. He will use the trials and tribulations in life to make us more like Him. Lewis continues,

“That is why we must not be surprised if we are in for a rough time. When a man turns to Christ and seems to be getting on pretty well (in the sense that some of his bad habits are now corrected), he often feels that it would now be natural if things went fairly smoothly. When troubles come along-illnesses, money troubles, new kinds of temptation-he is disappointed. These things, he feels, might have been necessary to rouse him and make him repent in his bad old days; but why now? Because God is forcing him on, or up, to a higher level: putting him into situations where he will have to be very much braver, or more patient, or more loving, than he ever dreamed of being before. It seems to us all unnecessary: but that is because we have not yet had the slightest notion of the tremendous thing He means to make of us.

I find I must borrow yet another parable from George MacDonald. Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on: you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently he starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of- throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.” —C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, Book IV, Chapter 9.

God uses the wrecking ball of trials and tribulations to tear down the walls of our pride and self-sufficiency in order to do a work whereby He will receive glory. He wants to break down our spiritual little cottages in order to make us into palaces. May we embrace our trials in the knowledge that God is doing something within us that is greater than we could ever imagine. Amen.