The Humility of Happiness

Realization 2,892,701: I have been scared of happiness for a long time.

Anybody?

I'm not positive, but I think I've been infected with suspicion of the concept by our Christian culture. Peace and joy, it implies, are fine. Holy. Maintainable. Happiness is... well, worldly! Happiness seems to be based on transient things, might easily fade, might leave us horrendously disappointed--
Stop!
There-- the truth slips and shows itself: being disappointed.
If I'm disappointed, I reason, it must mean I did something wrong, and am therefore morally culpable. And being horrendously disappointed creates pain, pain we want to avoid. In our finite view of ourselves and human history we have no idea what might improve us. So we push the dual potential away and embrace mediocrity. Being neither happy nor sad is a much more emotionally-defensible position; it lowers the risk factor (generally considered to be a good thing by this wounded world).

But as C.S. Lewis said, pain and joy are inextricably linked. If we never rejoice, we'll never weep, but that is no good reason not to rejoice. Or, in this intensely personally-applicable instance, not to be happy.

Besides, who is trying to convince us that we'll end up miserable if we submit to the humility of happiness?! We have no positive proof that things will go badly. Tolkien named the sudden turning out right a Eucatastrophe. Patricia says in Joe Vs. the Volcano, "Nobody knows anything, Joe. We'll take this leap, and we'll see. We'll jump, and we'll see. That's life, right?" And David says of this God we serve, "He heals the brokenhearted, and binds up their sorrows." ~Ps. 147:3 No promises that things won't have gone wrongly for a long time, or that we won't have to jump, or that we won't have broken hearts to mend. Only that all will be well. If the bad guy is winning, the story ain't over.

Not only that, but by way of a p.s., my brilliant friend Elisabeth did a little research and discovered that "Blessed" means "happy, fortunate, to be envied." Paul tells us in Eph. 1 that we are, in fact, blessed. Therefore if we have not happiness, we are missing an intrinsic part of our character.

So it turns out we have to trust Him. Again. Go figure. We jump, and we pray for a miracle, and we see. That's life. Why waste it in the common, colorless land of In-Between?

"Do not be afraid!" ~ God

Anyone out there counted the layers to fear lately? I got disabused of another one last night. I was going to say it was layers of pride, but realized that would be to name the symptom rather than the disease. I was sitting in a dark theater with some of my best friends, watching Robin Hood and commenting my way through it. Per usual. (Side note: if for no other reason, see it because it's absobloominlutely beautiful.) Then God conspired.

Crane shot above the bad guy striding in the castle gate in a billowing black cape.

"Gratuitous use of cape!" I said.

"Yeah," quoth Dale, "but I like it."

Beat, beat.

I realized I did too. In fact the only reason I had said anything in the first place was because I liked it. But, heaven help me! I was liking a cliche! Something the filmmakers had intended me to like. I couldn't do that, could I? That would expose my innate simplicity and destroy my precious snobbery which I assumed was necessary to protect myself from other peoples' bad opinions. After all, I've spent a life-time making sure people think of me as a smart, with-it, tasteful girl who has risen above her sheltered up-bringing. Ugh, that looks harsh in print.

But that's fear. Basic, craven fear. "If I am not myself, who will be?" says Pirke Avot. If I hide behind a projection, no one is well-served-- not me, not you, not the Body, not the Lord.

So, confession:
*I think billowing capes are cool,
*Half-light is amazing,
*I like my corduroy jacket,
*and my brown boots that make me look like a hick.
*I would rather live a quiet life.
*I can do a lot of things, but that doesn't mean I have to.
*I am not an extrovert.
*And flowers, stars, moonlight, and tree tunnels make me disproportionately happy.

There you go.