Unconquerable Joy

My freshman year of college, one of our dormmates delivered the same line every single day when asked how he was: "Better than ever!" Perhaps life truly was that good to him, but none of us believed so. We saw his words, and the stupid smile which accompanied them, as a performance. Maybe he was trying to impress us. Maybe he was a devotee of the cult of positive thinking. Either way, Happy Guy's greeting came across as fake. And whenever I consider the nature of happiness, his is the first voice I hear.

Wealth. Power. Fame. Security. Amusement. The world wants us to be happy, and it has taught us that these are the quickest paths to the prize. Unfortunately, the only reward to be found at the end of those rainbows is a cheap high. The exhilaration might be superb, but it always ends too soon; leaving you desperate for another fix. Happiness is fleeting, and the perfect gift for a fickle master to dispense to its loyal subjects.

Our Parent, on the other hand, desires something very different for us. Something messy and disturbing; where doubt, pain, and fear walk hand in hand with faith, hope, and love. They show us the cross, then ask us to carry it with Them to places unknown, no matter the cost. And if you say yes, you will taste and feel something wonderful, something that might occasionally resemble happiness, but only from a distance. You will know deep in your heart and soul that you are walking the road They created you to walk. In short, you will know joy. And nothing will ever be the same again. Alleluia! Alleluia!

Unintended Consequences

Shelter-in-place. Quarantine. Lockdown. Whatever the name, we are enduring this time of isolation for the sake of our brothers and sisters. And it is working! We are slowing the spread and flattening the curve. Our sacrifice is undoubtedly saving lives.

But what about the collateral damage of our pandemic response? How many siblings will succumb to treatable illnesses, because they are afraid to go to a hospital? How many siblings will be drawn to suicide, because this is the straw that breaks the camel's back? How many siblings will be pushed into starvation, because they lack the basic resources needed to survive an economic shutdown? When all this is over, and the balance sheets have been tallied, will the cure have been worse than the disease?

Every human intervention comes with a cost. And too often, we leap into action without considering the nature of that price or whether it is worth paying. This is partly due to our overly exuberant faith in the power of smart people and smart ideas. It is also, however, the product of our tendency to value some siblings more than others.

Should we have acted differently? Probably not. We did what we had to do to rescue the siblings in front of our faces. But when that new day dawns, which it inevitably will, let us temper our celebrations with a bit of melancholy; for our victory shall come, as they often do, with a horrid price tag. And when the next enemy appears on the horizon, which they inevitably will, let us put on the armor of humility before we run off to battle.

The Noble Path

In the pre-virus era, local animal-rights activists held weekly demonstrations at the gates of a Los Angeles slaughterhouse. They gathered not to seek the factory's closure, but to love those who would die within its walls. As one participant said, "Even though we're not going to save one single pig, what we can offer for just a second is basic decency for a living being." This, my friends, is living in the kingdom.

Acknowledging the strange and the different as your brothers and sisters. Loving those neighbors fervently, without chasing utopian fantasies. Planting seeds of grace, trusting our Parent to use them however They will. And embracing the delicious paradoxes which ensue along the way. This is the path we are called to travel.

Now, to live in the kingdom is a hard and confusing task. Seeing beauty in the ugliness of life. Accepting uncertainty as a gift. Such traits do not come naturally, but neither are they reserved to the few or the special. Every soul is capable of the journey; all that is necessary is a heart foolish enough to desire it. And for those who manage to summon up the courage, a universe of unquenchable joy awaits.

The Great Game

Biden or Trump. For the next six months, a cacophony of voices will loudly demand that we pick one, while ominously predicting chaos and tribulation should the wrong man be elected. Such cheerleaders are fools, who have far too much confidence in the efficacy of smart people and smart ideas. And we shall become even bigger fools, if we choose to drink the Kool-Aid they are selling.

Once upon a time, our Brother counseled us to "repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God." These words are a reminder that our leaders are not divine, the state is not a source of grace, and both are players in a contest of power, not love. Sometimes the competition brings nice toys to the people, and sometimes it leaves them with a stocking full of coal. Politics is a useful tool for building human fiefdoms, but a piss-poor one when it comes to living in the kingdom.

Be that as it may, it is our civic duty to participate in the game. So let us perform the task wisely, refusing to turn it into something greater than it actually is. If you trust Biden or Trump to advance the common good, give him your support. If someone else, someone guaranteed to lose, has earned your respect, do not be afraid to vote your conscience. Always remember, the kingdom is here and now: yesterday, today, and tomorrow. And nothing that happens in November can alter that reality.