“The Desire for Happiness”

Evening Glory by John Langley

The desire for happiness is natural, a law of life itself.  While we are all alike in this human aspiration,  our individual perceptions and ways of seeking it are singularly different.   As it is right to wish to be happy, what then are the conditions upon which its fulfillment depends?

Let us consider Christ’s teachings as it relates to happiness.  What were his words concerning this natural human wish?  Did he say it is an illusion? Would he have agreed with Goethe that “religion is renunciation”?

“There is nothing of the hardness of Stoicism in Christ’s gospel. It is humane, sympathetic, consoling. Unrest and weariness, the fever of passion and the chill of despair, soul-solitude and heart-trouble, are the very things He comes to cure”. 1

Jesus begins his great discourse of the Beatitudes with the word “blessed” — “happy” is the meaning.  Nine times he repeats the word like the urgent chimes of a resounding bell. Christ’s teaching does not entail giving up things merely for the sake of giving up, but always in order to win something better. He came not to destroy, but to fulfill — to fill to the fullest, to replenish life with inward, lasting riches.  And as we come to him, we discover four great secrets in this quest: 2

First, it is inward. It does not depend on what we have, but on what we are.

Second, it is not found by direct seeking, but by pursuing the things from which it flows. We must climb the mountain if we would see the vision — we must tune the instrument if we would hear the music.

Third, happiness is not solitary, but social, so we can never have it without sharing it with others.

Fourth, it is the outcome of God’s will for us, and not our will for ourselves; therefore, we find it by surrendering our lives to the dominion of a loving God.

These four aspects reflect the divine doctrine of happiness as Christ taught, which perhaps can be distilled in these words: “Mankind’s chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever.”

1 Henry Van Dyke, “Joy and Power”, p. 12
2 Ibid., pp. 13-14

 Reference: Henry Van Dyke, 1903, “Joy and Power”, http://www.gutenberg.net/1/0/3/9/10395

*** Image: Evening Glory by John Langley

“Faith On Trial: Spiritual Thinking”


… a synopsis of the writing of D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones

“When I thought how to understand this, it was too painful for me —  until I went into the sanctuary of God; then understood I their end.” Psalm 73:16-17                                                         

While in great anguish of mind contemplating the prosperity of the wicked and the difficult trials that beset the righteous, the Psalmist went into the sanctuary of God and gained a whole new perspective: his focus turned from self to God, and to God’s people.  He began to realize that his whole problem up to that point was that he was relying on his own understanding in being envious of the wicked; he was thinking rationally, at best fractionally, and not spiritually.

While rational thinking subsists on the ground level, spiritual thinking is not irrational, but equally rational, however taking on a higher level, a thinking that considers all facts and possibilities beyond what rational thinking would deem reasonable.  All things are possible.

The late Earl of Oxford and Asquith once said that the greatest gift a man could ever have is the capacity for “cubical” thinking, the ability to see all sides of a subject.  “Truth is like a cube. You must see all its facets”. 1  Prejudice is a power that predetermines outcomes, by shutting out all other aspects of the truth except one side. This self-elected blindness accounts for much of the tragedy in this world, and oftentimes for most of our own errors in life.

The Psalmist remarks, then understood I their end. The end that awaits the ungodly. Spiritual thinking not only considers all possible angles, but also facilitates thinking things through to their final results.

Jesus Christ foretells the outcomes of two disparate paths: the broad, effortless way of living, versus the “strait and narrow way”:  one eventually leads to destruction, while the other leads to life. How paradoxical that the word “strait” is defined as “a position of difficulty, perplexity, distress, or need2, and yet it leads to life, but the broad and easy way leads to destruction

The Psalmist began to understand the end that awaits the ungodly.  There is a certain hopelessness and dearth of happiness in the godless view of life.

Charles Darwin, the author of “The Origin of the Species”, confessed at the end of his life that, as a result of focusing on only one aspect of life, he had somehow lost the power to enjoy poetry and music, even the capacity to appreciate nature itself.  The final days of H.G. Wells were similar, he who had advocated so much for the mind and understanding, and had ridiculed Christianity, at the end of his life confessed that he was utterly baffled and bewildered.  His last book, “Mind at the End of its Tether”, is an eloquent testimony to the Bible’s teaching about the tragic end of the ungodly.

In contrast, the godly life might seem to be so narrow and miserable, but even a hireling prophet such as Balaam, evil as he was, proclaimed, “Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his!” (Numbers 23:10)

Throughout the hallmarks of life on earth, time and time again, these words have been proven true … But the path of the just is as the shining light that shineth more and more unto the perfect day. (Proverbs 4:18)

Footnotes:
1  D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, “Faith on Trial”, Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, Grand Rapids, Michigan, 1965, p. 46
http://www.thefreedictionary.com/strait

 Reference:
D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, “Faith on Trial”, Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, Grand Rapids, Michigan, 1965, p. 32-53

Photo credit: Seascape by Happy Jack

“Love’s Justice”

Return of the Prodigal Son by Bartolome Esteban Murillo 1667-1670
Return of the Prodigal Son by Bartolome Esteban Murillo 1667-1670


Love’s Justice

Is love inconsistent with justice in our human interactions?  At times we hear the words “tough love” uttered by parents who wish to instill in their children some important life lesson, and often there is a struggle in determining a clear set of determining principles as to how this process is to be carried out.

Jesus tells a story about a father and his two sons.  One son was dutiful and stayed home to work for his father.  The other was rebellious: he demanded his inheritance upfront, went to a far country, and spent all his resources on riotous living.  When his money ran out, and he recognized the error of his ways, he repented and journeyed back home, hoping he would find work as one of his father’s servants.

But instead of giving a scathing rebuke for all that the wayward son had done, the father adorned his son with the best robe, put a ring on his finger, and sandals for his feet.  Then he ordered the fatted calf to be killed, and a feast prepared.  The dutiful son was terribly upset at his father’s actions towards his long-lost brother.  He refused to join in the feast and stayed outside in the darkness of his own creation — the darkness of a harsh spirit and a lack of love for his sibling.

A strange story perhaps,  for there was no logical and expected justice served to the wayward son, but a total reversal of expected outcomes: the obedient son is standing outside in darkness, while the rebellious son is reveling inside the house, feasting with his father.

What then, becomes of justice in this story?  Jesus gives the assurance that Love is the only real justice, for the main purpose of justice is not punishment, but reclamation. A justice that is truly enlightened is less concerned with the punishment of wrong than its reparation.

Had the father issued a harsh verdict against the prodigal son, coldly dismissing him, he would have been unjust to his son’s future potential, and thus would have sinned a more grievous sin against his own son.  The worst sinner in the story was the son who did everything right, and yet acted in a vile, censorious, loveless way towards his brother.

One who does not love cannot be just.

God is Love, and God’s forgiveness is God’s justice, for if we acknowledge the error of our ways, and head back home to Him, He is faithful and just to forgive us our shortcomings, and to restore us into fellowship with Him, our Heavenly Father,  through His Son Jesus Christ.

References:
* William J. Dawson, “The Empire of Love”, New York: Fleming H. Revell Company, 1907, pp 33-44.
* Luke 15: 11-32, King James Version

“Rock, Sand, and Storms”

Rock, Sand, and Storms

Oftentimes what lies beneath is fundamental, for it determines the final outcome of the visible structure standing on top of  it.  I think of the roots that support the life of plants and trees; I think of the foundation that undergirds the construction of houses and buildings.

Jesus tells a story of two men who built two houses, one upon the rock, and the other upon the sand. One man was wise, the other was foolish. If the teaching we draw from this story is that the difference between these two men and two houses is revealed when the storms of trials come, the lesson would have little value, for it would have been too late to do anything about it.

But Christ’s purpose in telling the story is to enable us to detect the fundamental differences between two principles of living, so that we may be able to safeguard ourselves against the consequences of a false grounding, while there is still time. Hence, the decisions and actions enacted at the very beginning are crucial to eventual outcomes.  It is said that at the outset, the wise man dug deep before building his house, whereas the foolish man did not take the trouble to lay a foundation.

Let us consider the particular outlook of the man who built his house upon the sand:  (1)

First, he was impatient, in a hurry, compelled to take short cuts to achieve quick results.

Second, because he was impatient, he did not take time to listen to instruction, in this case, to the principles involved in constructing a house. He considered it unnecessary, and deemed his ideas better than established methods.

Third, he possessed a mentality of not thinking things through, of not considering possibilities and eventualities.  He wanted a beautiful house in a particular location, and put it up quickly on the sand, without considering the environmental hazards that could topple the house down.

Indeed when the winds and the rains and the floods came, the house built upon the rock stood firm, but the house upon the sand fell, and great was its fall.

Note that this story does not stand by itself:  it is sobering to recognize that Christ relates it to how people handle his teachings.  A house can be thought of as one’s life structure, and all of its related external outgrowths.  Christ claims that putting his teachings into practice is like digging deep and building a sure foundation to enable us to withstand the storms of life.

And Christ likens one who simply hears his words and does not do them, to the man who built his house upon the sand, with a stern prediction of a great fall, when the storms of life arrive.

Scripture Reference:

“Therefore whoever hears these sayings of Mine, and does them, I will liken him to a wise man who built his house on the rock:  and the rain descended, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it did not fall, for it was founded on the rock. “But everyone who hears these sayings of Mine, and does not do them, will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand: and the rain descended, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it fell. And great was its fall.” Matthew 7:24-27, New King James Version

***(1) Reference on the characteristics of the foolish man:  Martyn Lloyd Jones, Studies in the Sermon on the Mount, Connecticut, Martino Publishing, 2011, pp. 298-299

***Photography by Dmitri Moronov

The Yoke and the Learning

Philippe-Jacques_de_Loutherbourg_-_Landscape_with_Horse_and_Oxen_Cart_-_Google_Art_Project
The Yoke and the Learning

“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30

Could it be that mankind’s burdens of the soul are analogous to the burdens of the beasts of the field, for why would Jesus mention the yoke, when he beckoned us to come to him for rest?

One might wonder about the purpose of the yoke.  At first thought, it may seem an added burden to an animal, but it is just the opposite, for its function is to make the burden light.  The plow, attached to the oxen without a yoke would be onerous, but when worked by means of a yoke, becomes easier to pull.

What is the nature of this “rest” that Jesus talks about?  The writer of Hebrews exhorts the reader to “labor to enter into Christ’s rest”, a seeming paradox; however, rest is not stagnation as in a still lake, but rather entails simultaneous energy and tranquility, as the rushing waters of a river, or the plunging torrents of a waterfall. It connotes physical and mental activity:  toil with the plow and the discipline of learning, but where burdens are light and non-oppressive.

And what is the “burden”?  It is life itself with its difficulties, to be carried from cradle to grave. During his days on earth, Jesus recognized that men and women took life painfully, and this enigma of how to withstand life’s unpleasant onslaughts  is universal.

“Take my yoke and learn from Me,” says Christ. To take Christ’s yoke upon us is likened to an ox, in meekness, subjecting itself to its Master, no longer going its own way;  it goes where the yoke is led.  An act of total commitment.  To learn from Christ is to look at life according to His perspective, teaching and principles.  It is to grasp and comprehend His meekness and lowliness of heart, qualities which banish the scourge of a restless spirit.

Christ’s yoke is easy. The gentle Master is also a skilled Carpenter, who fashions the yoke for a perfect fit, to enable us to carry our burdens with strength. Christ’s yoke is his way of alleviating human life, his prescription for a joyful life in the midst of a difficult world.

There are other yokes and teachers that we can subject ourselves to, but Christ claims that it is his yoke and the learning from him that give rest to our souls, where we can plow through the fields of life more efficiently, and with lighter burdens.

Reference:  Henry Drummond, Pax Vobiscum, 1890, electronic book courtesy of http://www.Gutenberg.org.

Image: “Landscape with Horse and Oxen Cart”, Painting in the public domain by Philip James de Loutherbourg (1740-181), courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.