Smiling Outside

A few days ago, many people told me that they would remember how I almost always had a smile on my face. But you know what? That smile means many things, altogether and sometimes not.

Pretty often, it's a Jewish smile. Life is too short, why not get on with it, ah humans are like that, God made it this way – that kind of smile. It's a real attitude, a sign of relentlessly coping with life. As I've always said, if life sucks, you just have to suck harder.

Sometimes, it's an Italian smile. Hey, you're crazy ah! Well, I am also crazy, but at least I know it. Eh, from one nutcase to another, here's a smile. But then again, we're all mad, so it doesn't matter and you might as well smile, no?

Occasionally, it's an Iberian smile. Oh yes, we all get it sooner or later, it's the sad stuff, but what can you do? We will die heroically, with that smile and a sabre or a pistol (or both) in hand. It's all about style, the excellence of ending.

Once in a while, it's an English smile. That's the way it's going to be, is it? Very well then, you do it that way, I'll do it the way I've always done it. I'm not sure how amusing you think you're being, but one ought to give it a try anyway.

And it goes on down the list. I'm pretty sure I have an Ukrainian smile somewhere, certainly a Chinese smile (utterly terrifying), and several others.

But thinking about it, the main reason I smile (almost) all the time is that I'm not happy. That is, I'm not dependent on happenstance, on the positive balance of hap against mishap. In fact, I'm joyful and no number of funerals, partings, quarrels, disappointments, hurts, and assorted unpleasantnesses will change that. Joy, as the old song goes, is a flag flown high from the castle of my heart.

Most of the time, anyway.

All My Hope

This morning I was seized by a sense of great joy. I am a naturally joyful person, but this was different. I felt a sudden urge to dispense with analogies and metaphors and just bow to the ineffable. In my heart I knew this: "For we see as through a glass darkly, but then we shall see face to face."

I knew this as well: We are no mere instruments of a master musician or craftsman, we were made by the Master to contribute of our own free will, to rise to the highest excellence that our nature allows. And the hope that we can achieve this is one of the great hopes of our hearts.

It was the fact that this hope existed which raised my 'joy level'. Halfway through a fairly eventful life, my game might still be raised. I might have wasted some potential somewhere, but I might still be able to turn in a few mighty performances for the One who holds me in the palm of His hand. And then suddenly, I felt like a harmonica. It was very odd, very amusing. I only know two people who treat the harmonica as a primary instrument (apart from Billy Joel, and I don't know him personally).

Here is a hymn that has been one of my favorites for thirty years or so.

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All My Hope On God Is Founded

All my hope on God is founded;
He doth still my trust renew:
  me through change and chance He guideth,
  only good and only true.
God unknown,
  He alone
  calls my heart to be His own.

Pride of man and earthly glory,
Sword and crown betray his trust:
  what with care and toil he buildeth,
  tower and temple fall to dust.
But God's power,
  hour by hour,
  is my temple and my tower.

God's great goodness aye endureth;
Deep His wisdom, passing thought:
  splendour, light and life attend Him,
  beauty springeth out of naught.
Evermore
  from his store
  newborn worlds rise and adore.

Daily doth the almighty Giver
  bounteous gifts on us bestow;
His desire our soul delighteth,
  pleasure leads us where we go.
Love doth stand
  at his hand;
  joy doth wait on his command.

Still from man to God eternal
  sacrifice of praise be done;
High above all praises praising
  for the gift of Christ, His Son.
Christ doth call
  one and all:
  ye who follow shall not fall.

Robert Bridges (1844-1930); based on the German by Joachim Neander (1650-1680)