Reflection on happiness

I finally got a chance to listen to Chad's sermon from last week, and wanted to discuss one point that stuck with me particularly. Chad mentioned that of the many things we ought to learn from the apostolic church, one is the connection between sacrificial giving and joy. Sometimes we talk about joy and sometimes about happiness -- at times we mean the same things by these terms -- basically, a particular type of feeling or emotional response. At least, this is how I think the world around us uses these terms. To experience joy or to be happy is simply to feel a certain way -- and for those outside of the faith, these feelings are often transitory and impermanent -- things that we are always pursuing, searching for, and either never find, or find for only a brief period of time. Now I think both biblically and classically (and by this I mean primarily the Greeks) the concepts of joy and happiness are decidedly different. In both cases, I think the terms refer to something much more permanent and grounded -- not simply a feeling, but a state of being, as it were. The feeling of elation that the world associates with joy or happiness is certainly a part of these fuller and richer concepts, but is an EFFECT of them rather than the thing itself. I think Aristotle has a significant point when he talks about the pleasure (feeling of enjoyment) that is proper to the ACTIVITY of happiness (for Aristotle happiness is something one DOES -- sounds odd, doesn't it? -- that's because WE use the word incorrectly). What he says is that the activity of happiness, if done correctly (happiness is "an activity of the soul in accordance with virtue"), will produce enjoyment or pleasure. One of the big mistakes the world has made is to confuse the pleasure that is properly associated with happiness with happiness itself. And so, while anyone you talk to will tell you that they want to be happy (unless they are lying, perversely argumentative, or suffering from some kind of disorder), because of what they think happiness is, what they really mean is that they want to FEEL happy, to experience the pleasure that is attendant upon certain activities. It's really absurd when you think about it -- what people want is happiness, but they pursue an effect of happiness, and then call it happiness. No wonder people find it so difficult to be "happy." The reason they can't find happiness is because they have no idea WHAT IT IS -- although they think they do. Pursuing pleasure in place of happiness is like pursuing "being full" without eating.

Now while I think Aristotle has a lot of insightful things to say about what happiness is, I think he's dead wrong about HOW one becomes happy. For Aristotle, happiness is a combination of righteousness (right living -- according to virtue) and good fortune. To be happy for Aristotle, you can't be female, of low birth, poor, sick, powerless, particularly unattractive, or a host of other things that one has little or no control over. One of the great ironies here is that THIS part of Aristotle's conception of happiness is, I think, almost WHOLLY adopted by the world (even if they won't admit certain parts of it due to political correctness). But of course Aristotle lacks God's gracious gift of special revelation, and so doesn't see that with regard to happiness, as with regard to most other important things, the truth actually turns what seems reasonable to us on its head. Aristotle is right that righteousness is a key component of happiness, but again, absent revelation, fails to grasp what real righteousness is (we shouldn't be too hard on him for this -- doubtless we wouldn't get nearly as far as he did absent revelation -- rather, we should be grateful to a gracious God). As Chad pointed out, real joy or happiness is to be found in sacrificing one's own desires and giving of oneself to others. Pause to consider how completely counterintuitive this is -- okay, keep reading. In order to be fulfilled, to be happy, for the complete cessation of desire (how Aquinas defines happiness -- this can only be perfected in heaven, when my knowledge of and relationship to God becomes all in all to me), I have to DENY my own desires, interests, etc. and seek to meet the needs of others. No wonder the gospel is considered to be both foolishness to the Greeks (this just makes no sense -- you people must be daft) -- and a stumbling block to the Jews (and to us -- it makes sense, it's just too dang hard).

But oddly enough (not really), I think our experience in the Christian life bears this out -- and not just in terms of happiness (the state of being) but in that proper effect of happiness, pleasure (enjoyment). Again, don't confuse these two -- when people ask me if I'm happy, and I answer confidently that I am, they look at me as if I must be self-deceived, since no one can possibly be that sure of happiness, despite the fact that this is what EVERYONE is seeking. Now if connecting happiness to self-denial and sacrifice is counterintuitive, it's just patently absurd to connect these things to PLEASURE -- unless, we might think, one is masochistic (and actually I think this is how the world often views us -- we take pleasure from pain -- again, foolishness to them).

One of the most pleasurable/satisfying/enjoyable experiences of my life was also one of the most sacrificial and humbling (there's a connection here as well, but I won't explore that now). In high school, during the summer after my senior year, our church choir took a mission trip to New York City. In addition to singing at various venues, churches, etc., we spent one whole day serving at the Bowery Mission. For eight straight hours, with no break that I can remember, I served meals to (unfortunately, only a fraction) of the disadvantaged and homeless population of the area. By all normal accounts, the experience was not pleasant -- it was incredibly hard work, constant, and in most instances, thankless. There were of course a number of the recipients who were grateful, but many more were critical, rude, and even threatening -- to this day I haven't endured the type of verbal abuse that was a consistent theme of that experience. But in the midst of it I found I didn't resent it, but rather than I understood it and even sympathized (and hopefully empathized) with it -- and I found myself PRAYING throughout the day much more consistently than I would have on any normal day, and more GRATEFUL by leaps and bounds, not just in the "thank you, God, I'm not homeless" sense, but grateful for the opportunity to serve and for the very people I was serving -- and grateful that I was given the privilege to serve THOSE people. At the end of the day I was exhausted, but immensely happy, and satisfied. At the end of that day I thought I might have an inkling of how Jesus felt at the end of EVERY day -- would that we would pursue THAT type of happiness and the satisfaction associated with it.