Thomas Aquinas

The Act of Joy
An icon of Thomas Aquinas, by Nicholas Markell

A joy that many of us have occasion to experience – either directly or through friends and extended family – accompanies time with young children. Preschool and kindergarten teachers are by the nature of their work in the most favorable position to have this opportunity. The experience of joy we associate with time given in this way stands out for me because it is a shared joy – one shared with and inspired by those young ones who exemplify this virtue. For me, this experience has been awakened especially by my interaction with my granddaughters.

I have written previously about activities that I have enjoyed with our grandson. He shares being a grandchild of ours with six young ‘ladies’ in various stages of growing maturity. Here, I find myself musing about the wonder I have experienced with our granddaughters, who have been the source of some unique experiences for me. Having grown up with three brothers and no sisters, and having three sons and no daughters, I am encountering and learning things with my granddaughters for which I have not previously had the opportunity to experience first hand.

Among our granddaughters is one whom I like to describe as being ebullient. For she just naturally models energetic cheerfulness. She has her challenges, as we all do. But she approaches each new day’s activities with a joyfulness and positive spirit that are infectious. Though being a patient and engaging grandfather is still a growth point for me, I delight in her youthful exuberance.

An image that reminds me of my granddaughters among autumn leaves

I have mentioned before an icon of St. Thomas Aquinas that I particularly value (shown above). I have seen this image attributed to Brother Robert Lentz, but now believe it is by Nicholas Markell. This icon shows Blessed Thomas holding a small plaque with the following words: “Joy is the noblest human act.”

For many of us, joy is a welcome feeling and as such we think of it as something ‘that happens to us.’ Like love and forgiveness, joy therefore is generally an experience we anticipate receiving passively, and an experience for whose value we often rely upon feelings as our guide.

The beauty of Markell’s icon, and the quotation it features, is the reminder it provides that joy is also something we choose, something we do, and not simply something that we happen to feel. We rejoice; we can choose to enjoy; and we are able to express our joy about things we encounter or experiences that we have with others.

We experience joy when we read good books with our grandchildren

We live in a culture that tends to distrust expressions of joy, even though most people we know – and us with them – are sadly in want of it. Perhaps it’s because we encounter so few examples of spontaneous, genuine, and selfless joy, inspired by what we see around us. Is this because there is less beauty in the world these days, or are we less prepared to perceive it? My reflection and training incline me toward the latter belief. 

Joy is not one of the seven formally identified virtues taught to us by the greater Christian Tradition (among then, faith, hope, charity {or love}, prudence, justice, temperance and fortitude {or courage}). Yet, the traditional listing of virtues is not meant to exclude naming others, but rather to help us perceive their common source as well as their unity, being gifts given to us through Creation and through Redemption. Like other virtues, joy is a human capacity and a strength that we can develop through practice.

The rite for Holy Baptism in The Book of Common Prayer includes words that are prayed over candidates after they are baptized. Some of these words are particularly appropriate when thinking about the joy we often see expressed by children, but are also about something that we pray will be given to adult candidates for Baptism. In the rite, the officiant asks God to give the newly baptized persons “an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to persevere, a spirit to know and to love you, and the gift of joy and wonder in all your works.”

Here we discern a principal attribute of Beauty. In Beauty, among God’s works, we find a repository of joy and a source of wonder. For the beauty that we find in the world embodies and expresses our Father’s love for his Creation. Encountering this love brings us joy as we perceive its source and embrace him.

Today, I am thinking about the joy that each of my grandchildren encourages me to experience with them. I notice the natural joy that many children seem more able to find than do adults of my age. More readily, children delight in the world around them and in the experiences they are blessed to have. At the same time, and especially in this next phase of my life, I am reminded that joy – like Beauty, Goodness, and Truth – is not simply passively experienced. More importantly, joy is something that I want to – and can – practice.

So, with my grandchildren, I choose joy!

I close with a prayer attributed to St Francis, which speaks of joy as something we can contribute to a needy world:

Lord, make us instruments of your peace. Where there is
hatred, let us sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where
there is discord, union; where there is doubt, faith; where
there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where
there is sadness, joy. Grant that we may not so much seek to
be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is
in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we
are born to eternal life. Amen.

A Canopy of Light

 

 

In his visually stunning documentary on Frank Lloyd Wright, a Welsh architect named Jonathan Adams visits some of Wright’s finest buildings. Upon entering the ‘great workroom’ of the S C Johnson (Wax) Company headquarters building, he gives voice to what is surely a very common response to that amazing space – ‘this may be the most beautiful room in America.’

Among the several features of this sublime interior that evoke praise are the lithe columns supporting the large expanse of pyrex glass tubing, the warmly colored horizontal flow of the brick balconies and walkways, and the architect’s complementary attention to the color of the furniture and carpeting, the originals of which were all designed by Wright. As we see in so many of his buildings, ‘Cherokee’ (or iron oxide) red as well as limestone-reminiscent cream and ochre are primary features of his color palette.

Wright had in mind the vertical strength of tree trunks when designing the columns, and the large disc shaped platforms at their top combine to suggest a canopy of trees between which filtered daylight descends. At the same time, he also spoke of the columns as being like lily pads rising to the surface of a pond, to receive the nourishing light above. Although both of these metaphorical references seem apt to me, the interior of this expansive space is evocative of the great gothic medieval cathedrals and their clerestory windows, especially in connection with Wright’s profound sensitivity to the power of natural light. The priority he gave to natural light, as well as to its spiritual significance, is evident in his design for one of his earliest public buildings, Unity Temple, in Oak Park, Illinois. How wonderful it is that Wright can help us celebrate the experientially redemptive abundance of light, even on a dark winter day.

In a prior blog post I referred to how our engagement with the appearance of, and the spaces within, a building can have the effect of uplifting our souls and of enlarging our view of the world. By this, I was reflecting on how encountering great works of architecture can enrich our sense of community, as well as our regard for the pursuit of beauty, goodness, truth and other recognized virtues. Primary among these is joy.

Our contemporary sense of the word joy is often limited to a feeling that happens to us. But, as Thomas Aquinas is remembered to have observed long ago, “joy is the noblest human act.” Yes, we can feel joy. But we can also rejoice at the presence of sublime beauty, whether divinely created or humanly made. As a prayer to God for the newly baptized puts it, “Give them… the gift of joy and wonder in all your works.”

Virtues like beauty and goodness can also be described as ‘natural authorities.’ This is because they help make our responses to these qualities in things and people, and our subsequent actions, intelligible. For example, we enter and behold a profoundly beautiful space like the ‘great workroom’ at the Johnson Wax building. Our encounter with its beauty ‘authorizes’ or makes intelligible our response to it as we experience and express joy and wonder. Our encounter with this beauty can also prompt an appreciative regard for how our lives in community can be enhanced. Here, the experience of human-created beauty evokes our joyful apprehension of the beauty of our Creator, and of our Creator’s handiwork all around us as well as within us. Most appropriately, we rejoice at what we behold.

 

Notes: The SC Johnson company headquarters building in Racine, Wisconsin (1936-39), is typically referred to by its original common designation, the Johnson Wax building and tower. The company welcomes visitors and offers tours. The F.L. Wright-designed furniture that is seen on these tours was manufactured by the Steelcase company in Grand Rapids, MI. Wright’s Unity Temple dates back to 1905-08 and is still in use for congregational worship today. The prayer for the newly baptized is found on p. 308 of The Book of Common Prayer. Oliver O’Donovan’s book, Resurrection and Moral Order, is the source for my use of the concept of ‘natural authorities.’