Driving down the highway with my phone to my ear, the wheel in one hand, and a coffee cup in the other, I noticed a billboard advertisement with a yellow Volkswagen bug on it that read, “Woe isn’t you. Dare to be happy.”
How is being happy daring when it is what society demands of us? With the exception of “save the children” commercials, everywhere I look people are happy. And if they’re not, there is always a new gadget, gizmo, doctrine, or girl that can solve the problem. Happiness is a construct that appeases, medicates, and tames society. It does not allow people to ask difficult, discomforting questions. The moment they begin to consider the issues, the ideology of the entitlement of happiness is infringed upon. The result is the ceasing of critical thought. To be unhappy is to be daring.
We experience the pressure to be happy daily. Even on our worst days, we respond to a “how are you?” with a trite “great, thanks.” This societal norm protects happiness. After all, we may not want or have time to hear how someone is actually doing. However, this norm is created not only to keep conversation limited and professional but also to pursue, perpetuate, and protect happiness.
This is not strictly an American issue. The happiness disease plagues Christian culture as well. The Christian doctrine maintains that Christ came to earth to die and free believers from sin. The focus on this narcissistic, happy portion of the story fails to remember the way the revolutionary Christ lived.
If we were to expect from Christ the level of happiness we expect from each other, he would fail miserably. In fact, we would diagnose him as bi-polar and give him a prescription for lithium shots.
Jesus was sensitive to the climate around him. When it was time to pray, he prayed; when it was time to rejoice, he rejoiced; when it was time to be enraged and unhappy with the people who defiled his Father’s house, he flipped those tables over. More importantly, he critiqued a society that fostered and perpetuated the marginalizing and demonizing of human beings. Those people did not measure up to the standards deemed necessary for societal happiness. By reaching out to them, Jesus chose to forego a life of happiness and luxury. He became an artisan-a Greco-Roman social class rated below peasants and slightly above the “expendables”. Rampant starvation, disease, slavery, and death were in his backyard. Christ did not just sacrifice his blood for us; he sacrificed his serotonin levels.
I am not advocating walking around like martyrs afraid to smile because children in Africa are dying, or American children are starving, or inner city teenagers are being forgotten by the school system, or Christian homosexuals are struggling because they are told their natural inclination is sinful. Nope. Being genuine to the moment and not invoking our entitlement to happiness is crucial to critical Christian identity and thought.
Following Jesus means to look beyond comfort, beyond tradition, beyond rules, beyond happiness and see what needs to be done. No product, no doctrine will ensure happiness. True happiness is found through struggle. The struggle is excruciating and nerve racking. People may see it as cynical or angry, but it is necessary. Daring to be unhappy is a true dare.
