The Super Bowl was played a few days ago. While the play on the field was certainly thrilling to watch (though perhaps not for Atlanta Falcons fans), the most memorable moment for me occurred prior to kickoff. Just before the National Anthem, Phillipa Soo, Renée Elise Goldsberry, and Jasmine Cephas Jones (the Schuyler Sisters from the original Broadway cast of Hamilton) sang “America the Beautiful.” To put it mildly, their performance was spectacular. Like latter day Andrews sisters, their close harmonies reflected their obvious chemistry, and their creative arrangement breathed new life into Katharine Lee Bates’ powerful poem. Much has been made of the fact that Soo, Goldsberry, and Jones made the lyrics more gender inclusive. Though this was laudable and worthy of notice, I was even more compelled by a reaction from the sidelines. Right after Goldsberry and Jones sang “sisterhood,” the camera cut to Dan Quinn, the head coach of the Falcons. He was grinning broadly, clearly delighted by what he was hearing. When he noticed that he was on the Jumbotron, he quickly composed himself and assumed a “tough football coach” scowl. For a fleeting moment, however, Dan Quinn could not contain his delight.
Delight is a word that has fallen out of fashion over the years. In part, this is because it became a mere synonym for “happiness.” Delight, however, is about much more than mere pleasure. The psalms suggest that those who are righteous “delight in the law of the Lord.” Though one does not generally think of a law as something to take delight in, it is important to remember what the law represents to the psalmist. The Law was the symbol of God’s claim on Israel, the reminder of God’s persistent faithfulness. Taking delight in the Law involves recalling the fullness of our relationship with God, recognizing that God’s love endures all circumstances. Those who truly appreciate the nature of this relationship cannot contain their delight.
There is a discipline to delight. Delight requires conscious recollection, a willingness to look past our current frustrations and see the potential for good wherever we go. We live in serious times. Some might argue that delight is a luxury we cannot afford. But delight is not incompatible with seriousness. In fact, the only way we can be serious about the tasks before us is if we take delight in them. In this time of outrage, frustration, and anxiety, I pray that we will take time to be delighted, remembering that we are defined not by our present circumstances, but by the love of God.