Dance With the Joyful: Reflecting and Beholding Celebration

Christians are often caricatured as leading lives weighed down by rules, rituals, and restrictions—as if faith were little more than a joyless burden inherited through our family heritage. This stereotype paints believers as somber, withdrawn, or even depressed. Yet such a picture could not be further from the truth. At the very heart of Christianity is not gloom but good news, not despair but delight. I hope to unpack the concept of Christian joy so that the body of Christ can identify these moments of joy as blessings from God, and center our faith around joy. 

A study from the American Bible Society found that “frequent Bible readers rated themselves 33 percent more hopeful than irregular Scripture readers did in two surveys of more than 1,000 people done six months apart.” People are more hopeful when they read Scripture more frequently. Why is that? Scripture does not simply inform the mind; it transforms the heart, cultivating a hope that naturally blossoms into joy. Furthermore, the joy that a Christian experiences stems from a prophetic hope and assurance that is echoed throughout the Scriptures. As Romans 5:2 puts it, “We rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.” Since Scripture assures us of the eternal truth that God is the ultimate life-giver, and that those who are with Christ have much to rejoice over now and into eternity, this statistic comes as no surprise to me seeing this joy all around me. 

Back in high school, I keenly remember a senior year bonding exercise where my classmates and I had to describe each other’s defining characteristics. According to my classmates, one such defining characteristic is that I “radiate joy.” While I may have a cheerful temperament, I am also convinced that the deeper joy I might radiate only comes from Christ. My joy, a Christian joy, is a mysterious one that seeps into the depths of our hearts and endures through the storms. 

The Bible speaks quite often about joy. In Galatians 5, Paul lists joy as a fruit of the Spirit, meaning it is only by the work of the Holy Spirit that our souls overflow with gladness toward God. But this truth was already foreshadowed centuries earlier. Jeremiah 31, written in the shadow of exile, calls Israel not merely to survive in Babylon but to imagine a restored life of worship and celebration:

“Again you shall adorn yourself with tambourines and shall go forth in the dance of the merrymakers” (Jer. 31:4).

The Israelites were displaced, stripped of their land and identity, and yet God promised a day when sorrow would be turned to dancing. Here joy is not naïve denial of suffering, but a prophetic confidence that God’s covenant love outlasts every exile. Jeremiah anchors celebration not in circumstance but in God’s unbreakable faithfulness. The joy that God calls the Israelites into represents a restoration or purification of joy—the people of God are joyful not looking to themselves and their own happiness, but rather in aiming their affections toward God. Christian joy attributes all the focus, attention, and especially the glory back to God, the truest source of enduring joy. 

From the earliest days, Christians have carried forward this vision of joy as both resistance and witness. In the Roman Empire, where Christians often faced persecution, their gatherings included hymns and communal meals that bewildered outsiders who expected fear or secrecy. Joy became a testimony that Christ had already overcome the world. While Christ has already come to redeem sinners and establish the church, He will come again so that all present suffering and brokenness will pass away, and all things will be made new and restored to Christ in new creation. Our excitement and eager anticipation of this Second Coming is the source of our hope and what it means to “rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.”

In the medieval church, feast days punctuated the year—times of music, dancing, drama, and shared meals that reminded believers of the heavenly banquet to come. Even in seasons of fasting like Lent, joy reemerged at Easter with bells, flowers, and processionals. The Reformation renewed this emphasis on joy, especially in congregational singing. Luther once remarked, “Next to the Word of God, music deserves the highest praise,” because it stirs joy in the soul and audibly proclaims the gospel.

The thread through all these eras is this: Christians celebrated not because life was easy, but because joy was a defiant proclamation of God’s enduring goodness.

Just like the Israelites in exile, the call to joy in Jeremiah can be a powerful reminder for modern-day college students. Many aspects of college alienate students from home and from God: loneliness in a crowded dorm, pressure to succeed in a cut-throat environment, or straying from the faith due to social pressure. Jeremiah issues this call to “dance with the joyful” as an invitation to us Penn students as well, to resist despair amidst seasons of dryness or challenge.

In dancing with the joyful, celebration becomes a spiritual discipline on campus. Jamming to worship music, fellowshipping in a late-night Bible study, or pausing between exams to pray with friends are not trivial acts—they are echoes of the tambourines in exile. These practices remind us that joy is not escapism but as Charles Spurgeon quipped, joy is “kiss[ing] the waves that throw [us] up against the Rock of Ages.” Christians are equipped with complete joy and full assurance that we are in Christ; and when challenges arise, they point us back toward Christ. 

C.S. Lewis wrote that joy is a longing that points beyond itself, a sudden glimpse of eternity breaking into the present. When we “dance with the joyful,” whether in Jeremiah’s vision, the history of the church, or the daily rhythms of college life, we are beholding the promise that God is with us and for us. Indeed, unto eternity, the Spirit is whispering the same refrain: again you shall take your tambourines and dance.

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016). 

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