When Joy Leaves (Joel)

The Vital Role of the Senses

God created the senses that operate within each of us, making both the hearing ear and the seeing eye (Prov. 20:12) and allows us the sense of taste not only for the food we eat but also for things spiritual in nature. As such we are able to “taste and see that the Lord is good” (Ps. 34:8), and Psalm 119:103 tells us that God’s own words are “sweet to [the] taste, sweeter than honey to [the] mouth!” Paul also notes that God spreads the “sweet fragrance of the knowledge of Him” to a lost and dying world through us, the “fragrance of Christ” that is “vital, living, and fresh” (2 Cor. 2:14-16). Jesus graciously speaks to Thomas, who doubts His resurrection, and He tells him, “Reach here with your finger, and see My hands; and put out your hand and place it in My side. Do not be unbelieving, but [stop doubting and] believe” (Jn. 20:27). Touch moved Thomas in a way he had refused to be moved to that point. 

Even though salvation is a gift from God and it comes through faith, the senses have an undeniably vital role in helping us believe God is who He says He is. Romans 10:14 tells of the importance of hearing and its role in faith: “But how will people call on Him in whom they have not believed? And how will they believe in Him of whom they have not heard? And how will they hear without a preacher (messenger)?” Romans 1:20 calls attention to the importance of seeing and the role it plays in believing God’s word from beginning to end: “For ever since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through His workmanship [all His creation, the wonderful things that He has made], so that they [who fail to believe and trust in Him] are without excuse and without defense.” There is truly no way to suppress the overwhelming evidence upon our senses of who God is—there is just denial and and often a refusal to believe that would require submission to God’s will over man’s own.

Unavoidable aromas

This morning, I got up in time to pack my husband a lunch and included some fresh pineapple I purchased yesterday at the store along with some strawberries and blueberries. He walked in a few minutes later and commented that I had the whole end of the house smelling fruity. Interestingly enough, I could no longer smell the overwhelming fruitiness wafting about the house, but he could the minute he turned the corner into the kitchen. After he left, I began making fresh bread, and it always overwhelms my sense of smell, the yeasty goodness floating about lingering more than the fresh fruit. Surprisingly enough, all this sensory overload connected with my reading of Joel today, and made me ponder.

When Joel opens, the Israelites have been caught up in idolatrous worship (read sensual worship) of the gods of the nations around them for so long that God is letting them know judgment has already begun and more is on its way. The message to them is to repent that God might relent (2:11-14). The joy they found in the things of God has already dried up and left, and God Himself, their joy, is drying up and leaving, withdrawing from the sons of men (1:12). If our happiness is found in the delights of the sense God has given us rather than in Him, when the delight of our noses, eyes, tastebuds fail, our joy will leave too. 

A Thirst Only God Can Quench

The description of the water flowing from the sanctuary at the end of Ezekiel becomes even more significant when the first chapter of Joel is read immediately afterwards. The departure of God’s glory from the temple, from the midst of His children, the three-fold plagues of locusts already sweeping through the land of Judah, the imminent judgment to come in all its sobering reality (because of their rejection of God) will soon completely rob these people of all of the comforts of life as they know it. With the severe drought and devastating famine that will follow, with the loss of precious food and even the life-giving water, through the consuming fires and destruction, joy itself and the gladness from the house of God is drying up and leaving (1:12, 16). 

Memes circulate the Internet and social media and appear in advertisements that play with the idea of people’s hunger causing them to be “hangry” when in reality, true hunger (which most Americans have no concept of) is no laughing matter. With the cutting off of all food sources from the land, the joy has left God’s people in Judah, and hunger and his seven friends has moved in to stay in the void. In my mind, I can almost see the image of the spicket (read spigot for those of you west of the Mississippi) being turned effectively by God, cutting off the flow of life-giving water from the land, drying up even the brooks that bring water to the animals at pasture. The bewildered animals groan (v. 18), the prophet cries out (v. 19), and the wild animals pant in longing for God Himself. A lack of hunger for God has become, in God’s righteous judgment, a hunger for the food and water that had been plentiful before. Hunger is no laughing matter.

Matthew Henry offered this note about the extreme starvation and drought pictured in this chapter: “The more we are wedded to our creature-comforts, that harder it is to part with them.” The people who have delighted in the comforts of their senses can no longer be ignorant of God’s provision of them or of His removal to get their attention back upon Him where it belongs. It is sobering to just read this—I cannot imagine living it.

A Joy that is True

Joy is a peculiar thing. I sometimes surprise myself at how easily I am amused and where I find my joy, and often it is convicting. Losing myself in the delights of this world is far too easy, and I am often much lacking in diligence, failing to guard my heart that in reality belongs to Christ alone. We are people who forget, just as God’s children forgot in Israel and Judah. Peter reminds me that the joy of my salvation is found only in Christ (1 Pet. 1:6-9). He calls me out in his reminder to be found as a believer in Christ, working for food I can’t see and don’t taste with my fleshly senses, food that doesn’t perish; he calls me out, reminding me to be indifferent to the creature comforts of this world and longing instead for the end result of my faith, which is the salvation of my soul. Instead of delighting in my senses, I am to delight in Christ alone, my hope (Col. 1:27). I am to diligently cherish the true joy He gives me, holding fast to Him, finding my gladness in obedience to Christ, in worship of Him, in learning through His word and the experiences He gives me (that BTW often involve the senses that He created and gave me to use the right way for His glory, not my own senseless, sensual pleasures). 

When joy leaves, hope often flees as well, and the loss of hope is 

a terrible blow to the soul, leaving it crushed. 

My hope is in Christ alone; I say this not to remind you but to remind me, and I say it often because I need reminding often. I cling to that hope tightly. I know that in holding on to my hope, I will find my joy, a true joy that won’t dry up or withdraw or be cut off because of circumstances in my life or because of sin I have let have control over me. My prayer is that I will never, ever fail to quit clinging tightly to God, and my prayer is that if you are struggling with your fleshly senses and where they can easily lead you apart from God, you will look to the One who can provide the hope that your soul desperately needs. Don’t be content to watch joy leave. Pursue the One who owns it all and cling desperately to Him. Taste and truly SEE that the Lord is good!