Excerpted from
GOD WANTS YOU HAPPY: From Self-Help to God’s Help
by Father Jonathan Morris. Copyright © 2011 by Father Jonathan
Morris. Used with permission of HarperOne, an imprint of
HarperCollinsPublishers.
My new butcher friend, Moe, looked at me, first with surprise, then
with a broad smile. “Don’t I wish!” he said, raising his thinning gray
eyebrows while shuffling backward and successfully catching my freshly
ground beef from his 1950s-style meat grinder without ever taking his
eyes off me. The tone and mannerisms of this streetwise octogenarian
from Brooklyn couldn’t have expressed more skepticism over my
suggestion, made to him just seconds before, that he might be on the
road to becoming a saint, not altogether unlike the Italian namesake of
whom he was so proud.
My sense was that this gentleman was on such a path; his smile was pure and real. He was spirit-filled.
Living saints were on my mind that Saturday morning as I did my
neighborhood errands, because they were the topic of the scripture
readings for the next day’s services. During my own prayer
time that morning, I had been just as surprised as Moe by the idea—so
clearly expressed in the Bible—that we are all called to be saints and
that being saints has less to do with halos and folded hands and more to
do with living life to the full—becoming everything God created us to
be. The message of the various readings was summed up for me in Jesus’s
words in the Gospel of John: “I have come that they may have life, and
have it to the full” (John 10:10, NIV).
In an epiphany explicable only by divine intervention, on that day,
when I had first meditated on scripture and then encountered Moe, this
very familiar passage—one I had read or heard hundreds of times
before—jolted me to the core. God wants me and everyone around me to be
profoundly happy! Becoming holy and becoming happy are interconnected, I
realized. And God must have a plan—and a few backup plans too, for when
we mess up—outlining how we are to get there!
The moment was more than an intellectual realization. In an immeasurably short flash of reason and spiritual
emotion, I knew experientially what before I had known mostly in the
head: God is on my side, and his invitations, his commands, and even the
bumps and bruises he permits along the way must be signposts pointing
toward personal fulfillment—life to the full—waiting to be claimed by me
and every one of God’s children.
This discovery (something so obvious and simple it can hardly be
called a discovery outside my own subjective experience) most likely
made such a deep impression on me on that day because it contrasted so
starkly with what I had been experiencing the previous week. I had been
through some particularly rough days. I was dealing with my own issues
of adjusting to living in New York City and serving in a Manhattan
parish after many years in the more subdued and controlled environment
of a seminary in Rome, Italy. My impression was that everyone around me
also seemed to be going through tough times, and they weren’t making
much sense of their struggles. I was hurting a bit, yes, but these
people were miserable. I recall the young, fearful, and inconsolable
mother in the hospital with late-stage ovarian cancer; another dear
friend of mine at her wits’ end, frustrated and angry that she was
reaching forty and still hadn’t found a decent guy; an usher in my
church laid off from his job one week before his wedding; a Protestant
pastor and friend whose wife was leaving him for her wealthy boss; a
father of three young children,
suffering from debilitating and humiliating depression; and finally,
the ninety-eight-year-old man at whose funeral service I presided that
was attended by nobody—not a single person!
Over the years of my pastoral ministry I’ve unconsciously formed an
ultrathin but steely guard that allows me to be interested in, and even
immersed in, others’ problems without being overwhelmed emotionally.
That week, however, just beneath my serene exterior floated major doubts
about God’s questionable strategy of care for some of his children:
“Are there real, true, positive solutions for their predicaments, for
every predicament?” I wondered.
The very simple, unexceptional flash of spiritual enlightenment I
experienced on that Saturday morning immediately put these
concerns—summarized in my question to God about real solutions for
everyone—back into life’s big picture. It is a context where spiritual
realities (including heaven, grace, and redemption) are taken into
account. True, the previous week I had encountered a group of people who
were in agony, tragically stuck in their misery, but here, through
Moe’s indomitable joy (even as his local butcher shop was teetering on
extinction on account of new, corporate giants in the neighborhood) and
through scripture, I was being reminded by grace of God’s promise to us:
he will bring out of every bad situation, out of every single instance
of pain and suffering in our lives, a greater good—yes, an even greater
good than the goodness we are missing now—if we let him! This promise
covers every stripe and strand of our seemingly limitless human capacity
for physical, emotional, and spiritual agony.
Yes, there are real, true, positive solutions for you and for me,
right now, no matter what’s going on. These solutions feel like joy,
peace, and profound meaning when we find them, based on hope in a God
who knows us, loves us, and has great things in store for us and for the
ones we love.
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