“Unexpected Joy” Icon: Why the Mother of God sometimes destroys our comfort
Icon "Unexpected Joy". Photo: cs1.livemaster
We are very fond of comfortable Orthodoxy. We like it when an icon becomes a “protective charm,” prayer turns into an “affirmation for good luck,” and a feast day is merely an excuse for a generous table. The very name of the icon “Unexpected Joy” sounds to us like a promise of a pleasant surprise.
But once we learn the story behind this image, we are in for a shock. Behind the gentle name lies a true spiritual thriller. “Unexpected Joy” is not about receiving from God what we want. This story is not about gifts neatly wrapped under the Christmas tree. It is about resuscitation, about being pulled back from the brink of death, and about the love of the Mother of God, Who at times is compelled to hurt us so that we may not die an eternal death.
Spiritual “split personality”
St. Dimitry of Rostov, in his collection The Dewy Fleece, recounts the story of a certain young man. On the one hand, he was entirely at home in the church environment – he honored traditions, knew prayers by heart, and whenever he passed his home icon, he greeted the Mother of God with the words of the Archangel Gabriel: “Rejoice, O Full of Grace!”
On the other hand, as the saint writes, he was “a lawless man.” We are not told the details – whether he robbed, committed fornication, or engaged in other evils. What matters is something else: he had developed a frightening immunity of conscience. In the morning he prayed, during the day he sinned, in the evening he prayed again – and this cycle caused him no inner conflict whatsoever.
Let us look honestly into this mirror. Is this young man really so different from us?
Duplicity is a chronic disease.
We have learned to divide our lives virtuously into airtight compartments. On Sunday morning we are pious churchgoers, lamenting our sins and lighting candles. By Monday, in the office or in traffic, we turn into cynical, angry, or dissolute people.
We stand through long services, then at home destroy those closest to us with icy silence. We keep a strict fast in food, abstaining from oil, yet with appetite “devour” people in the comments on social media. We live by the principle “a candle for God, a poker for the devil,” and imagine this balance can last forever. Our prayer becomes a mechanical ritual, a mere “reading of the rule,” serving only as anesthesia for the conscience, allowing us to sink ever deeper into the swamp of passions.
When icons begin to bleed
But God has other plans for us. He does not desire our death, even when we are confidently marching toward it ourselves. One day the Most Holy Virgin, weary of such hypocrisy and aching in Her soul for the perishing young man, decided to administer “shock therapy.”
The scenario was ordinary. The young man was preparing to go out to commit his filthy deed. By habit, he stood before the icon to say a hurried prayer – perhaps even to ask for “success” in sin.
And then reality cracked. He saw the painted face come alive. But it did not shine with Taboric light – it was covered in blood. Wounds opened on the body of the Christ Child – on His hands, His feet, His side. The blood flowed as if real.
In horror the young man cried out: “O Lady, who has done this?” And he heard an answer more terrible than any sentence: “You and other lawless men, by your sins, crucify My Son anew.”
In these words is concentrated pain. Not reproach, but a mother’s cry. We imagine our sins as violations of abstract rules, for which a fine is imposed. The Mother of God reveals to us the physics of the spiritual world.
Sin is not a line in a criminal code. Sin is a new nail driven into the hands of Christ.
Every time we consciously choose meanness, lies, or debauchery, we do not merely “break rules.” We inflict pain upon the Living God.
Such pain cannot leave indifferent anyone who still possesses compassion. The words of the Mother of God shattered the armor of this “double life.” The young man suddenly saw himself not as a “successful guy,” but as an executioner. In that moment, what he had long lost returned to him – the gift of tears and genuine, heart-rending repentance.
The ultimatum of the Mother of God: an Advocate who never loses
St. Dimitry’s account then leads us into a dialogue that is impossible to read without trembling. It is a true courtroom drama, unfolding in Eternity. The shaken sinner begs for forgiveness, and the Mother of God becomes his Intercessor.
She asks Her Son to have mercy on this man. But Christ responds with refusal. He speaks of justice – this man had persisted in evil for years. And then the Most Pure Virgin goes all in. She says: “I will lie at Your feet with this sinner until You forgive him his sins.”
She places on the line all the authority of a Mother. She is ready to share the fate of the criminal Herself, if only to tear him from the jaws of death.
Before such love, even strict justice retreats. Christ answers: “I cannot refuse You, My Mother. I forgive him for the sake of Your intercession.”
In this moment lies an immense source of hope for us. When it seems that we have gone too far, that our sins have exceeded every measure and God no longer hears us, we still have a final hope. We have a Mother. One Who will not analyze the legal nuances of our guilt, but will simply cover us with Herself.
The surgery of salvation: why it hurts
The young man kissed the wounds on the body of the Child and rose from his knees a different person. This was the true “Unexpected Joy” – the joy of mercy he neither expected nor deserved.
Salvation from a swamp is never painless. Imagine a man who has sunk into a bog wearing an expensive suit. To survive, he must abandon everything superfluous, get filthy, perhaps even dislocate an arm while rescuers drag him to safety.
We often take offense at God because of sorrows. We ask: “Why?” But when we voluntarily crawl into the swamp of sin, the Lord often has no therapeutic methods left. Only surgery remains.
At times, to tear us out of a state of spiritual “split personality,” the Lord is forced to act radically.
He may permit the loss of money, the collapse of a career, betrayal by friends, or illness. It seems to us that life has fallen apart. It seems that God is cruel. But in truth, this is resuscitation. He knocks from our hands the toys with which we are killing ourselves. He takes away our temporary comfort so that we may not lose Eternity.
Do not wait for the scalpel
The story of the icon “Unexpected Joy” is a warning written in love. We should not wait until icons in our homes begin to weep blood, or until the Lord is forced to take up the scalpel of sorrows.
We must learn to diagnose ourselves. Each time the soul pulls us toward a habitual sin, when we want to answer evil with evil, when we are about to lie or condemn, let us remember this image.
Let us remember those terrible and honest words: “By your sins, you crucify My Son again.”
“Unexpected Joy” is not about getting from God what we want. It is about how God gives us what we vitally need – forgiveness and a chance to begin again from a clean slate. That chance is given to us right now.
Read also
“Unexpected Joy” Icon: Why the Mother of God sometimes destroys our comfort
What terrifying story lies behind the cozy title of this icon, about spiritual “split personality,” and why God is sometimes compelled to act like a surgeon.
Why only one out of ten survives: the grim statistics of gratitude
An analysis of the Gospel drama about leprosy. On why faith is a leap beyond common sense and why the "sons of the kingdom" risk ending up in darkness.
Silent killer of the soul: Why absence of pain is the most terrifying symptom
An exploration of how the biology of leprosy explains the catastrophe of modern numbness – about the demyelination of conscience, digital cynicism, and the loss of the human face.
Switch off news, turn on prayer: advice from radio operator Paisios of Mount Athos
On how to turn a stream of alarming news into prayer beads and maintain sanity using the method of an Athonite elder who knew the value of pure ether and trust in the Commander.
God in the soul or a phone charger? An honest conversation about the Church
Why believing at home is comfortable but useless, and how the Sacraments work on a physical level, turning Christianity from theory into real life in the Body of Christ.
The "itchy ears" syndrome: Why we embrace lies and bristle at the Gospel
An analysis of the Apostle Paul’s prophecy about the era of information bubbles, fakes, and teachers who say what we want to hear.