God and the Pursuit of Happiness

I recently finished a book!  The following blog entry is a peak into what

it is all about.  I hope to have it published in the next month or so.

 

Not too long ago I sat next to a grieving friend who was weeping over another loss in her life.  The emotional tragedies seemed to be coming in successive waves, each one more disheartening than the last, with little recovery time in between them.  I sat there silent, not knowing what consolation I could give.  After a moment she looked up at me and a few others that were surrounding her.  She wiped away the tears from her mascara riddled face, and from a broken heart moaned, “I just want to be happy!” 

     The memory is particularly vivid because I related to her in that moment.  Perhaps we can all relate to a statement as simple and fundamental as such.  I had been wrestling with a chronic illness for several years at this point, and I, too, knew what it was to wrestle with one disappointment after another.  The idyllic vision I had painted for my near future had crumbled.  The pieces seemed to be strewn about me without meaning or purpose, and I was desiring the same thing as my disillusioned friend. 

     I just wanted to be happy.  Was that too much to ask?  As Christians, isn’t that something we should expect? 

     In the last couple months of my life I have found myself with an inordinate amount of free time, and in the vacancy I have been tackling that very subject in a writing project.  I’m asking some pretty basic questions about life, faith, and God.  Specifically, does having faith guarantee happiness?  If I had more faith, would I be happier?  How exactly do we find happiness? 

     There is an irony present as I tackle this issue because, at the same time I have been researching and pondering this, I have also been working on another book about suffering, using my own experiences as the central narrative.  Imagine a stack of books on one side of my room with titles like Where Is God When It Hurts?, God on Mute, and When God Doesn’t Make Sense, and then picture a row of inspirational books on the other side of my room about living life to the fullest and the joy of living for Jesus.  This is my world right now, as bizarre as it is. 

     Then again, maybe it’s perfect.

     After all, if Christianity does promise happiness, shouldn’t it hold up in the severest circumstances?  As Randy Alcorn points out in If God Is Good, shouldn’t the Gospel be just as true in the persecuted church of China as it is in America? 

     To avoid confusion, maybe we should first define terms.  Some preachers like to differentiate between joy and happiness, but I don’t see that variation in the dictionary, or the Bible itself.  Some Greek words in the New Testament like “blessed” could easily be translated “happy,” and other words translated as “joy” could just as accurately be “happy” as well (since there is little difference in the English language). 

     However, I see the merit in the separation.  Colloquially, happiness has come to mean a state of emotion, while joy usually carries a deeper meaning.  On a conversational level, happiness is what we feel when something good happens, but joy is something we possess. 

     I believe the Bible does indeed promise this – happiness, yes, but even more so, joy.  A qualified yes, but a definite yes.  After all, it’s called the “good news.”

     In Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount in Matthew’s Gospel, his preamble includes eight beatitudes, or blessings (Matthew 5:3-12).  As noted, the Greek word for “blessed” here, makarios, means “supremely happy.”  He goes on to promise this supreme happiness for some unlikely societal demographics: the poor in spirit, the mourning, the meek, those hungry for righteousness, and so forth.  In Paul’s epistle to the Galatians, he speaks of the benefits that go to those who “walk in the Spirit” (Galatians 5:16).  This “fruit of the Spirit” includes nine characteristics, the second of which is joy (5:22-23). 

     In both Jesus’ sermon and Paul’s teaching on the Spirit, joy is promised to those who pursue the kingdom of God.  Jesus notes character traits that contribute to our joy, and Paul writes of a deepening relationship with God (the Holy Spirit) that does the same.  This is probably best summed up in another profound statement found in the Sermon on the Mount: “But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you” (Matthew 6:33).  It is not a stretching interpretation of this verse at all to infer that “these things” could include a joyful heart. 

     These passages are massively important in our understanding of the Bible’s view of joy.  Noticeably absent are exhortations to “pursue happiness.”  We are told to pursue the kingdom of God and his righteousness, not our own emotional fulfillment. 

     And yet, the pursuit of happiness seems to be a fundamental aspect of the American Gospel.  Our forefathers called it an “unalienable right,” and ever since then we have taken it upon ourselves to search for this happiness at whatever cost.  It’s our right, after all.  If you sat in Joel Osteen’s church every Sunday morning, I’m sure you would come to the same conclusion. 

     But alas, the American Gospel differs from the Gospel of the Kingdom that Jesus proclaimed.  Joy is indeed a byproduct of a life that pleases God, but there are more important things than our own personal state of happiness, believe it or not.  Holiness is one of those things.  To put it bluntly, God does indeed want you to be happy, but he wants you holy more.  First things first. 

     The pursuit of happiness as it stands in the American Gospel and the majority of the self-help books of our day is selfish, misleading, and unfulfilling.  It’s a dead end road.  It’s a symptom of a narcissistic, self-absorbed culture, of which I am all too often a part.  “Pursue a happy life,” says American Christianity, “and love God, too.”  “Pursue me,” says God, “and you get everything else.”  Leave the happiness up to him.  He’ll give it, in his way, and in his time. 

     This principle is illustrated beautifully in perhaps the happiest book of the whole Bible: Philippians.  In fact, Paul’s letter to the church in Philippi is a case study in Christian joy. 

     The apostle is writing from a prison cell; an unlikely birthing place for one of the most joy-filled documents in history.  But as I discovered in the juxtaposition of literature concerning joy and suffering on two different sides of my room, pain is actually the ideal testing ground for what constitutes real joy.  If it can stand up to hardship and disappointment, then it is a Jesus-kind-of-joy, not just a superficial happiness. 

     In Paul’s letter, he outlines several things that contribute to the uncompromising spirit of joy he is experiencing in his own life.  To name just a few, he first addresses attitude in chapter one.  Although he finds himself in a gnarly predicament, with other Christians hating on him and the Jewish leaders and Roman guard bent on keeping him in prison, he still finds reason to rejoice.  He realizes how his situation is refining his own character and causing the Gospel to spread more rapidly.

     Secondly, in the next chapter he writes about the need for selflessness.  This was best exemplified by Jesus himself, who gave up his unlimited rights in heaven to be a human forever for our sakes, even dying a humiliating death on a cross for the sake of love.  Paul tells us to have the same mindset.  I have found that selflessness is part of that pursuit of the kingdom that results in crazy joy.  Nothing is more fulfilling and joy-giving than serving someone else for the sake of love and laying down your rights for them.  It feels counterintuitive, to be sure, but it really is true.  The proof of this is that Psalm 45:7 calls Jesus the happiest person ever: “You love righteousness and hate wickedness; therefore God, Your God, has anointed You with the oil of gladness more than Your companions” (italics mine).  The most selfless man of Philippians 2 is the most joyful man of Psalm 45! 

     Next, in the third chapter Paul gives an autobiographical account of his own passionate journey of giving everything else up in the pursuit of Christ.  He is so vibrantly unremorseful of his sacrifice that he says every person, place, and thing that was forfeited for Christ’s sake is like rubbish, a pile of crap, in comparison to what he has gained in the kingdom.  His joy is the proof that he has no regrets in following Jesus. 

     So we see that although the feeling of contentment is not to be our primary focus in life, we do have a part to play in achieving it.  We must give our whole hearts to following Jesus, the joy-giver. 

     Furthermore, there are times when we must simply choose to live in this kind of joy.  “Well isn’t that the same thing as pursuing happiness?” you might ask.  No, it’s not.  Even choosing joy comes from our obedience to God.  We choose to rejoice in his truth, his love, and his breathtaking plan for our life.  It benefits us, to be sure, but it is first and foremost a part of a life mission to please him.  The Westminster Confession says it well: “The chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.”  You’ll notice the word “joy” tucked into that statement.  You’ll also notice that it comes after glorifying God.  Both aspects are essential.

     This is the way the book of Philippians concludes.  It gives us practical advice on how to live in the same kind of joy in which Paul was living, whether we are in the palace or the prison.  He tells us to forget those things in the past that are dogging us (Philippians 3:13), live for heaven’s rewards, not earth (3:18-21), to pray instead of worry (4:6-7), meditate on true and noble things (4:8), and to trust in God’s provision (4:10-19). 

     Couched in between all those principles is the repeated command to rejoice.  This is what I meant when I said we must sometimes choose to live in joy: “Rejoice in the Lord always.  Again I will say, rejoice!” (4:4).  This command is found in the Old Testament as well in places like this: “Shout joyfully to the Lord, all the earth; break forth in song, rejoice, and sing praises” (Psalm 98:4); “Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation” (Habakkuk 3:18).  Notice that these biblical authors don’t wait for a “feeling”; they tell us to just choose it (Habakkuk’s situation was especially bleak, which is why he used the word “yet” as a qualifier). 

     We could summarize all this by saying that yes, God does desire our happiness, but like any good parent, he knows better than us what will make us happy.  So rather than leaving us to pursue our own carnal and self-fulfilling brand of “happiness,” he wisely and kindly instructs us to focus on him, and his kingdom of love and righteousness.  Part of this kingdom-pursuit includes the choice to rejoice, even at times we’d rather sulk.  With a God-centered lifestyle such as this, we can expect a healthy dose of joy! 

     There is one last unsettling question for me.  How much joy can we experience in a world so full of confusion and suffering?  How much happiness should we have?  In light of school shootings, child trafficking, and pervasive sickness and famine, it hardly seems right to giggle and guffaw our way through life. 

     The true answer is that I don’t know.  I know that Ecclesiastes 4 holds up weeping and laughing, mourning and dancing, all as equally valid.  I know that lamenting is held with esteem in the biblical account, not reproach.  This is why I have come to believe that the biblical study of happiness is best done in view of human suffering.  Without the latter, the conclusion yielded is too trite.  And without the former, the subject becomes too heavy.  John Piper said it best in his preface to his classic, Desiring God: “Life is hard, and God is good.” 

     The testimony of scripture and the faithful saints of history is that joy is available in God, even in suffering.  How much?  Let’s pursue Jesus and find out together.