WHAT DO YOU BELIEVE? 4/5

The Problem with Happiness

The next word I want to address is a severely personal one. Up until now, you’ve probably been able to bare with me as I poked and prodded around your stances on justice, truth, and faith. Hopefully, you feel I’ve made some points that you might consider. And, hopefully, you are open to further discuss them one day. But, I’m afraid this next topic might cut a little deeper than the rest. It’s a word so closely held to the life of an individual that to part with it would be to suffer a kind of death. It is something considered so sacred that it’s even mentioned as one of three unalienable rights that form the pillars on which this country was founded. People will put up a fight for justice, they will contend for truth, but I’ve seen more men and women lay down their lives in the pursuit of happiness than any other cause. 

When it comes to the word happiness, I think most of us could accurately describe the concept. And I’m sure many would say they’ve experienced it at some level or another. Some may say happiness can be found in family or friends, others may find happiness in their hobbies, or, for some, it may be a particular place that holds fond memories. Most would agree money can’t buy happiness, but they’d also confess that it wouldn’t hurt to try. No matter where a person claims to find happiness, I’d say almost all would agree that the predominate characteristic of happiness—at least as they’ve experienced it—is that it is hard to hold on to. 

Seemingly the most ephemeral of the words we’re discussing, for many happiness is an ever-moving target. Like a toddling 3 year old chasing an oversized rubber ball, as soon as we feel like we have it in our grasp, our chubby little over-zealous foot swings too far forward, perpetually punting it further out before us. And so on we go, our face reddening with frustration as we look for something to accuse as the perpetrator of our woes. Why the cruel cycle? Why is it, when it comes to happiness, it feels like we are chasing the wind? 

Aiming Too Low

It is my argument that although we may have at some point defined the word properly, the paths we often take in pursuit of happiness are, in fact, destined for something different—something much smaller. Oftentimes, in our seeking we set our sights on things like pleasure or purpose, giving them the entire weight of our expectations, when they are merely parts of a greater whole. Sensing this insufficiency, many people decide to shrink their definition of happiness until it fits what they are experiencing. Then, they make it their goal to get the most pleasure into their lives as they possibly can, or they wrap themselves up in their work or a particular cause, to the point that if that work or pleasure ever ended, it would mean the end of themselves as well. 

Whether it’s money, success, adventure or sex, each carries a smaller banner of “comfort,” “peace,” and “accomplishment,”—all of them promising to lead the devout to that much bigger, more elusive word: “happiness.” Yet, despite their attempts, the pursuer is quickly frustrated when their satiation is woefully fleeting. Still, they keep feeding themselves the same things over and over until their hearts are drowning in a sea of pleasure and projects, yet more starved for happiness than ever before. Jim Carrey is famously quoted as observing, "I think everybody should get rich and famous and do everything they ever dreamed of so they can see that it's not the answer.” Think about it. Money, sex, power, fame, that’s not what our hearts truly desire. It’s the tragedy of the addict: the more you get, the more you begin to want--yet still somehow knowing it will never be enough. 

If true happiness were able to be attained through things like careers, relationships, hobbies, or finances, then happiness would require one's entire life be devoted to the apprehension and defense of such things. But what happens when tragedy strikes? When the market crashes and the company folds? When the cancer is inoperable? At the death of dreams does the hope of happiness go with it? In such times, it may feel that way, but my hope is that no one actually believes happiness could be so fragile.

It's About Identity

So then, if the smaller pursuits of pleasure and purpose aren’t the answer, by what grounds can we properly pursue happiness? I believe the key isn’t found in what we do, but rather who we are. If we are ever to grasp any sense of sustainable happiness we must come to a proper understanding of our identity. 

Now comes the point where I might step on some toes; and it’s about how we come to realize this identity. I’m here to argue that an individual does not possess final authority on their own identity. I know our hyper-individualized culture recoils in horror at such a thought. We like to get all “Hemingway” and think that every man and woman is captain of his or her own soul. But how’s that going for you? I don’t know about you, but this is the first time I’ve ever lived a life before. This whole “being captain” thing feels like I’m winging it most of the time, and it seems like there’s a constant blanket of fog off the bow. And as I look around me, I see a lot of other captains with the same confused look on their faces as their ship is being battered up against the rocks, or is stuck spinning in circles without a rudder. Yet they wear that captain's hat proudly, by golly. 

Of course, you are perfectly within your rights to believe that we are all just blind captains directing our ships to and fro--though as I argued before, you would have to forfeit any hope of meaning in this existence. But, might I suggest that we were never meant to be captains in the first place? In fact, I’d say even the most seemingly "self-reliant”  of us aren’t even the acting captains of our ships now.

I know it’s a popular thought that happiness essentially means having the “freedom” to do what we what--to define the self however we please. But let me ask you. When is the last time you’ve acted completely out of your on volition? When is the last time you’ve acted without the influence of the thoughts, words, or actions of another? If you've answered anything other than “never” you deceive yourself. From birth, we are bombarded with objects and ideals bearing banners and slogans promising us a better this or a more fulfilling that, all they simply ask for in exchange is our allegiance. Not a single one of us is the sovereign, untouched individual that we think we are. Be it advertisements, politics, friends, enemies, parents, or simply the societal norms of our day, every action we take is in response to some other’s suggestion. To those we reject, it is rebellion; to those we accept, it is submission; and to those we find our worth in, it is worship. 

Look around us. Look within yourself. We are not self-defined. We are creatures of worship. We like to think we are in control, but how often do we attach our identity to things like success and status, pleasure and opinion. Even the most avant-garde individual is still a product of a response to the perceived status-quo. Without a social norm to contrast themselves against, they would lose the framework of their self-proclaimed identity. To quote Ecclesiastes, "What has been is what will be, / and what has been done is what will be done, / and there is nothing new under the sun." (Ecclesiastes 1:9 ESV)

  

Notice, however, that up until now, I have been referring to identity as something acted upon, something wielded or influenced but not quite possessed. Much like our genetic makeup or the time and place to which we were born, there are certain inalienable aspects about ourselves that we do not, and cannot, have any authorship over. Our very personhood and the dignity that we perceive as inseparable from our humanity, we had nothing to do with—it is nothing that can be earned, nor is it anything we can truly take from another. Yes, our particular likes, dislikes, quirks and idiosyncrasies that make us “us” are all expressions of the unique self, yet the essentials of this self are not of our own making. So, to whom do we owe authorship? Answer this correctly, and we find the source of our identity--and with it, the path to true happiness. 

Where Do We Look?

In our search for such a source, one of the better clues we’re given, ironically, lies in our unhappiness. This seemingly ubiquitous baseline of discontentment in the individual experience, I believe says something profound about our true nature: that this great dissatisfaction is actually the distance cries of a wholeness we once enjoyed. We many not have any conscious memory of it, but the collective heart of the human race, on some level, remembers and longs for a time when it used to beat in perfect relationship with its Creator. Our unhappiness is a symptom of that longing. As a former pastor of mine used to say, “the reason we’re so dissatisfied is because we are walking around in this fallen world as deposed kings and queens,” or as C.S. Lewis puts it in Mere Christianity, “If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.”

What if our unhappiness served a purpose? What if our dissatisfaction with what we've seen in and around us, causes us to look for that other world? What if that other world actually existed, and upon finding it, we discover a familiarity and completeness beyond anything we have ever experienced? 

Otherwise, unhappiness is a rather cruel trick being played on us. If our dissatisfaction doesn’t point to an eventual reconciliation--and there is no hope of that other, better world--then unhappiness is utterly pointless. Any experience of suffering would be merely arbitrary, if not unfortunate, and the afflicted individual would gain nothing from it except further motivation to escape from the feeling or situation and take greater efforts to avoid it in the future. A person’s happiness would rely solely on their ability to maintain it, and all other people would be reduced to mere objects or obstacles. At any given point, a person would be seen as either something that will help an individual obtain happiness or something that is preventing it—making it impossible to fulfill a need I believe to be fundamental about our humanity: the need for genuine, reciprocal community. 

For the Christian, there is no such pressure to generate our own happiness, nor is its maintenance so fragile. We are able to endure hardship with patience and contentment knowing our greatest happiness is assured--and yet to come. As Paul puts it, "For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.” (Rom 8:18 ESV)  Not only that, but we are promised a comforter in the Holy Spirit who “...helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.” (Rom 8:26 ESV) We are able to endure because our happiness does not depend on us or our circumstances. 

We see evidence of this all the time: those individuals that, for all intents and purposes, should be the most miserable, embittered people, given their desolate circumstances—their extreme poverty, their failing health, their dead end job—yet they are often the most kindhearted, appreciative, and joyous individuals you’ve ever met. They’re quick to put your needs in front of their, despite their needs being noticeably greater. What allows them this strength? This joy amongst the strife? As another former pastor of mine used to put it, “They know who they are, and more importantly whose they are.”

An Enduring Happiness

What if we decided to give up the struggle of trying to defining ourselves, and instead simply let ourselves be defined--not by our fellow man, but by the One who knows us with an infinitely deeper intimacy than we know ourselves, and can make of that self something far more beautiful than we could ever imagine? What if we traded the pressure of leading a “successful” life for an immovable sense of acceptance and belonging--where success is something innate to our identity, rather than something we must attain? In discovering this, pleasure and purpose are suddenly no longer circumstantial. We have an enduring pleasure because our hearts are responding to what they were created for, and our purpose is now eternally linked with who we are, rather than what we can do. And people become people again, with their own identities and their own happiness waiting to be revealed to them. And those that have found happiness along with you, now become compatriots rather than competitors. Happiness is no longer this scarce resource that needs to be hoarded and defended, but rather a never-ending wellspring within us, of which we can continually draw from and give to others.

So, what’s the hangup for most people? If a true, enduring happiness stands readily available, why do so few come to find it? I believe it’s because most are so desperately holding on to whatever small, paltry sense of happiness they do have, they refuse any suggestion of giving it up in exchange for something better, out of fear of loosing what is currently in their grasp. As I mentioned in the beginning of this essay, to part with such things is to suffer a kind of death. But such a death is necessary, if we are ever to realize the true nature of our identity. As Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will save it.” (Luke 9:23-24 NIV)

Yes, this kind of death is painful, but with it will go the deceptive sense of control we had been claiming over our lives--a sense that has been secretly oppressing us ever since it was first birthed in our minds. And yes, it may feel like a huge risk to believe this way, but as we live more and more into our identity, and come to understand the joy that is knowing Christ--knowing a Love that feels more real, more indescribably right, than anything we’ve ever experienced--we realize it is a risk worth taking, and one taking to the fullest. Only after tasting such a richness as this, can we see the how muted the pleasures were that we once sought, and how they will never be able to satisfy us again. In fact, we come to find they never did.

In this transformation, many Christians like to use the word "joy" rather than "happiness" to describe what they are experiencing. "Happiness” tends to connote a kind of contrived, one-way experience that is only enjoyed by the recipient. The word simply falls flat when we speak it. Whereas “joy” emanates; it is received and also given; it overflows and spills out in unfettered lavishness. Joy is the experience and expression of the spirit, as opposed to simply the emotions. And joy is evidence of an assurance in things to come. It is something untouched by trials and circumstance. It stands the test of any hardship because its hope is not in things of this world--which are temporary and ephemeral--but rather it is anchored in the eternal--the promised. 

"Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls."   

—1 Peter 1:8-9 ESV