The Secret of a Happy Life
What is the secret to a long, healthy and happy life? People have been wrestling with that question throughout human history and answers have varied widely from Plato’s pursuit of wisdom as the key to a contented life, to the Epicurean principle of pleasure as that which brings the most satisfaction, to the Judeo-Christian religion that teaches life with God as the greatest means of joy.
Naturally, all of these life perspectives have strengths. Wisdom can certainly enhance well-being by helping us to appreciate in more than a superficial manner the diverse and marvelous world in which we live, but there have been many learned and wise men who have not found happiness. Then, too, seeking a life of pleasure makes a lot of sense and can add greatly to happiness. No emotionally healthy person voluntarily yearns for a pain-riddled existence. Unfortunately, the pursuit of pleasure can also result in a shallow life, where we become fixated on never ending quests for more and more momentary thrills that never quite satisfy and eventually leave us disenchanted.
I greatly value the wisdom that comes from learning and recognize that education can be gained either from books or life experiences, and I certainly do not believe that ignorance is a virtue. Pleasure also adds to the joy of life as well. The enjoyment of a good meal or watching your favorite team win the big game or simply the joy of being with family and friends can all significantly add to the happiness of life.
As a person of faith, however, I believe that the greatest source of happiness and fulfillment is found in life with God. I have spent my life trying to convince people that life with God is the best way to live, but following the ways of God involves far more than keeping a set of rules or subscribing to a particular belief system or attending church every Sunday.
Over the years I have known many within the Christian church who were models of morality and religious orthodoxy, yet exhibited an Eeyore-like attitude toward life. A spirit of joy and happiness would certainly not be the traits that others would assign to these religiously bent people who dotted all their i’s and crossed all of their t’s. One of the greatest novels of the 19th century, Les Miserables, reveals in the life of inspector Javert a religious zealot who kept all the rules but lacked empathy for his fellow man and certainly was void of happiness. Too often I have seen this crusty rule-bound attitude within the lives of people of faith, where they lack any semblance of joy or happiness or contentment.
The truth of the matter is, Christians and religious people in general can be as miserable as anyone else. Happiness and a fulfilled life require something else besides keeping the rules and believing the right things. To live a long, healthy and happy life more is needed than wisdom, pleasure or even religion.
What is that something that fulfills life? I have been in the presence of that something in many places and among all kinds of people—young and old, the sick and healthy, the fervently religious or even those barely hanging on to faith.
One particular experience stands out in my memory. I will never forget the collection of old men who embodied that something in a coffee shop not far from where I served as pastor. Four mornings each week this group of aged retirees met for coffee to discuss an assortment of current events or reminiscence of days long past. I was honored when they gave me a standing invitation to join them. They even paid for my coffee!
Most of these grizzled men were military veterans and several of them had fought in World War II. On occasion they could be a rather rowdy bunch and their language was often peppered with words not usually heard in church, but I loved to hear their stories of by-gone times, laughing with and at each other. I learned much from these battle-hardened veterans of life that could never be learned from reading books or sitting in a classroom. These men were wise, enjoyed the simple pleasures of life and were men of faith, but they also had that something else.
They were in various stages of declining health and knew their time on earth was drawing to a close. They joked about their failing hearts, terminal cancers, memory and vision loss, a litany of aches and pains, and made light of their inability to do the things they once did.
It didn’t take me long to realize that their morning bull sessions were more than just casual chit-chats with friends—they were therapy sessions where each man revealed his innermost feelings, often layered over with a kind of macabre humor, but exposing, nevertheless, fears, frustrations, sorrows and sometimes anger at physical and mental deterioration. By sharing their stories these men drew strength from each other, perhaps justifying the adage that misery loves company, for by pooling their miseries with one another, their individual vulnerabilities became less frightening. By participating in each other’s brokenness through unguarded camaraderie, by learning to laugh at the indignities that accompany old age and moving toward death in solidarity, these men found the “something” that added meaning to their lives—they were all in the valley of the shadow together.
Knowing that we are not alone can be the something that makes all the difference—whether we are in the shadow or basking in our prime. Yes, wisdom contributes greatly to the joy of living as does pleasure and religion helps us to make sense of the world in which we live and gives us hope, but without the companionship of other people, our lives will remain unfulfilled. In order for human beings to be happy, we need community, we need each other. If we lack relationships with others, the close bonds with people of flesh and blood who we can share our lives with, who know our joys and sorrows, our hopes and dreams, regardless of whatever else we have, happiness and contentment will remain beyond our reach.
