Sacred Celebration

"I know the world is several versions of mad right now …. And that's why I'm making a shameless appeal for celebration," writes Shauna Niequist in her book, Cold Tangerines (Zondervan), aptly subtitled, "Celebrating the extraordinary nature of everyday life."

But she's no Pollyanna. In fact, Shauna admits that she discovered a much deeper level of celebration during a season in which she lost her job, her church, close friends, and a baby through a miscarriage.

"I became a person who understands celebrating in the middle of heartbreak. And that added a lot of depth to my life," she says. It also cemented her desire to help people understand the true nature of the spiritual discipline of celebration.

Here's what Shauna had to say when TCW talked with her. Also read her thoughts on celebrating in community at this link.

When many of us think of celebrating, we think parties and pi—atas, dancing and food. But is that really what it is?

That's definitely part of it! It's going out to eat, fireworks, candles on a cake, loud music, and laughter. But more than that, it's about being present to what is, noticing the good that still exists in the middle of the broken. It's choosing hope. It's trusting that you'll find something beautiful, redemptive, and sacred even when it looks like that's an impossible task.

Why is celebration difficult for so many of us?

I think a large strain of the Christian tradition prides themselves on being serious. We're no-nonsense people. We're economical with our emotions, and celebration feels frivolous or silly. So we pronounce what's wrong with the world. We boycott and stand against corrupt systems and darkness. And I respect people who are giving their lives to call out and fix brokenness.

But we must also point out what's right with the world. New life is happening all around us. Spring is coming. Babies are being born. Relationships are being repaired. For every bit of darkness, there is also light. Life is really beautiful—not just special occasions, but actual daily life is a profound miracle.

So we can be angry over the injustices of the world and still enjoy the goodness of life.

Exactly. All of human life is sacred. Sometimes we think that the only sacred parts of Christianity are doctrine and theology. But if you've ever fed a child his first bite of food on a spoon, or hugged someone when she really needed it, you know that's as sacred as any theology about compassion or empathy. Those are things worth celebrating. Theology without celebration sells our faith tradition short.

Does that come from our puritanical roots?

Some of it, yes. But that idea isn't scripturally sound. When we look at the biblical pattern of festivals, feasts, psalms, even Jesus, we see people who weren't waiting for heaven in order to feel the deep gladness of being alive and one of God's children.

When you read the psalms, you realize the exuberance, expressiveness, and gratitude that should be present in our daily lives. God made an extraordinary world for us to live in. And to deny the beauty of that is a real loss, especially for Christians.

But sometimes life is so painful.

Absolutely. It's easy to celebrate when everything feels clean and bright. It's much more difficult to celebrate when relationships are broken, when your future feels cloudy. But that's the point. Those are the times when celebration becomes a discipline, not just an easy option.

I've had to choose to find a way to celebrate when everything seemed chaotic, broken, and dark—those heartbreaking moments when I wondered, Can I even find a way to celebrate within this? But that's really when I've grown.

What about celebrating within community?

I think one of the strongest ways to celebrate is to honor one another's stories. Mourn when it's time to mourn, but also rejoice when it's time to rejoice. If we're moving too quickly or we don't think it's valuable to mark those moments, we miss out on entering deeply into one another's stories.

A lot of us are raised to enter deeply into someone else's loss. When someone loses a family member, you bring a dish or watch their kids. But I hope that we can also discipline ourselves to enter deeply into one another's celebrations. When someone has a child, when someone accomplishes something they didn't think they could do, we can rejoice and say, "I know how hard this was for you, and I'm celebrating with you."

How have you experienced that?

My husband and I were part of a small group that was one of the richest experiences of community we've ever had. Every week, we would have dinner together, then have an in-depth spiritual conversation, and pray together.

But one of our traditions was that we always did birthdays. We'd do birthday toasts during dessert. It was such a significant moment just to stop everything and say, "This is who I've seen you become in the last year. This is what I saw God do in your life, and this is what I'm praying for in the next year."

I didn't grow up being a birthday person. But that group taught me that birthdays are a moment to say important things to the people you love. You can mark the last year and affirm dreams for the next year. I love that.

But if what if you're not comfortable with those kinds of celebrations?

I have a friend who's an introvert, but she has celebrated with me many times. For instance, we'd been praying for a long time that our house would sell, and when it did, we were so thankful. And one night we heard a knock on the door and saw a car speeding away. It was Margaret. She'd made us brownies and left a beautiful card that said, "I'm celebrating with you in this moment. I'm so thankful our prayers have been answered."

Her actions consistently say, I notice, I'm cheering for you, and I'm praying for you. That's celebration. It doesn't require her to act outside of her true nature.

What is says to me, though, is that she's choosing to see and join me in the significant passages of my life.

Many of us want to celebrate and notice, but it gets pushed off the to-do list because there are "more important things to accomplish." What's a good way to battle that?

You have to train yourself to stop and notice. One of the things I add to my to-do list is, Check in with the people in my life. Is there anything that I'm missing about their lives?

Some friends in Orange County just launched a new campus at their church last night, which they've been working toward and praying about for months. I'm excited to call them later today and hear about it. "Tell me about it. How did it feel? Were you nervous? How did you feel when it was over? Are you exhausted?" Those questions help us celebrate.

Life is wild and chaotic and beautiful and sacred all at the same time. I've learned that celebrating in the midst of that wildness and chaos makes the beauty and sacredness much clearer. That's one of God's greatest gifts.

Read more articles that highlight writing by Christian women at ChristianityToday.com/Women