True or false: a Christian is supposed to be happy. I think our immediate reply might be: of course! In Sunday school, we sing songs like “If You’re Happy and You Know It.” Hymns speak variously about irrepressible contentment. Many of us are taught to bring our best smile to church, or that we have somehow failed if we shed a tear. We see preachers on television with huge grins telling us we can have our best life here and now.
But is happiness really the summit of our faith? Certainly, there is nothing wrong at all with being happy, but is it really the ultimate goal we should be striving for? I think, if we look at today’s Scripture, there is a deeper story going on beyond simple happiness.
In the gospel of Luke, Jesus proclaims the beatitudes — those beloved statements of blessings that invert the best qualities of the world. Christ says that you are blessed if you are — to use his words — poor, hungry, weeping, hated, excluded, reviled, and defamed. These conditions are the worst nightmares of most people. And yet Jesus claims that we are blessed if we are these things.
This is not some side comment that Christ makes in passing. In this account from Luke, Jesus is speaking directly to his followers — to those who have chosen to drop their nets and follow him. After healing the multitudes, it says that Jesus “looked up at his disciples” to address them with these words. His followers are blessed if they are — again — poor, hungry, weeping, hated, excluded, reviled, and defamed.
Now, does this make a disciple of Jesus happy? I would think not. You’d be really nutty if you delighted in such things. But the idea of happiness is not what Jesus is getting at. That same word, blessed, does not convey happiness so much as describe a state of righteousness before God. When we are blessed, we are in our best place: we are justified, blameless, and upright before God and creation.
This word, blessed, is used elsewhere in the gospel of Luke. At one point, someone in the crowds extols Jesus in excitement, saying “Blessed is the womb that bore you and the breasts that nursed you” (11:27). Or, to put it another way, “Your mama would be so proud of you!” Jesus corrects the one praising him and his mother, and elevates that sense of what it means to be blessed.
He replies, rather seriously: “Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and obey it!” Again, to put it differently, we are blessed not because of our achievements, our conditions, or even our state of mind, but because of the way we listen to and follow God. To be blessed in this way is not simply about being proud or content, but about having a right relationship between God and humanity.[1]
This vision of being truly blessed also comes to the fore in the reading that we heard from the prophet Jeremiah. Jeremiah writes, simply, “Blessed are those who trust in the Lord.” He then describes how this blessedness unfolds. Such a person, he says, is like a tree planted by a stream. There is no promise that heat and drought will not come. But when it does come, the leaves shall remain green and the tree will bear fruit. Such a person is not blessed despite suffering, but in the midst of suffering, and that person’s trust in God will not be in vain.
Getting back to the gospel and the question of happiness, what about the other side of the picture? What about those who think they have attained happiness? Jesus warns us about those conditions that seem to lead to contentedness. He admonishes those who are — again, to use his words — rich, full, laughing, and spoken well of.
These are things that the world tells us will lead to happiness. Taking off our biblical glasses and looking at these qualities, I think anybody would say you could not help but be content with them. How many wouldn’t want to have money at their disposal, their appetites satisfied, laughter with friends, and esteem in the eyes of others? But Jesus warns us away from this path to one where we are blessed in the midst of heat and drought.
So, on the one hand, we are to pursue God and be blessed. On the other, we should be wary of the things that seem to make us happy. If I could describe the path that we walk, which is neither worldly happiness nor eternal despair, I would call it Christian joy. This is not something we procure for ourselves, but comes as a divine gift, like the blessedness of the poor, hungry, and defamed. It is not happiness outside of suffering, but hope in the midst of it. This is the joy that upholds the prisoner in a cell, the martyr at the gallows, the prophet in persecution, the mourning in distress. It is the reminder that life, even in its trials, is always worth living. Joy is faith in the power of goodness when the odds just aren’t that great.
Throughout the Bible, joy is spoken of not in contrast with suffering, but even alongside it. St. Peter writes, “Rejoice insofar as you are sharing Christ’s sufferings, so that you may also be glad and shout for joy when his glory is revealed” (1 Pet. 4:13). St. Paul speaks of that “peace which surpasses all understanding” (Phil. 4:7). And Christ even tells his disciples, bluntly, “In the world you face persecution. But take courage; I have conquered the world” (John 16:33).
In all this talk of happiness, blessedness, and joy, let me make one thing clear. I’m not saying that we should not or cannot be happy as Christians. I’m not calling for us to be miserable for its own sake, or to seek out opportunities to pout. What I really want to tell you is this: if you are not a happy Christian, you are not a failed Christian. In fact, you might be quite the opposite.
Joy is a gift of God, regardless of one’s condition or contentedness. This is not a feeling or sensibility, but a state of being blessed in the eyes of God. If your life is empty because you are poor, hungry, weeping, hated, excluded, reviled, or defamed, you may be closer to Jesus Christ than you think you are. In conditions such as these, doors are opened for the Spirit to bless God’s children in unexpected ways.
[1] Luke Timothy Johnson, Sacra Pagina: The Gospel of Luke, edited by Daniel J. Harrington, S.J. (Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press) 41, 106.
