Clap Anyway

Photo of a smiling corgi on a leash next to sidewalk chalk art which reads “Sidewalk Hug” with a heart around the outside.

This sermon was inspired by the brilliant satirical McSweeney’s piece Child Interrupts Sing-Along to Whether He is ‘Happy’ and He ‘Knows It’ by Michael McCoy.

April 29th, 2023

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Spoiler alert: this is a sermon about not overthinking our way out of joy.

Now, it’s a common adage among ministers that we wind up preaching the sermon we ourselves need to hear.

“Not this time,” I scoffed last Wednesday night. “I’ve got this one. I’m great at making myself present to joy.”

“I have so many sources and experiences of joy to draw from!” I marveled to myself on Thursday, conspicuously writing nothing down.

“What we all need this Sunday is a little breathing room, nothing too challenging.” I explained to my spouse on Friday, casually, as I continued to procrastinate.

And so it was that I found myself yesterday, pacing the wet streets of my neighborhood, furrowing a new crease into my forehead and giving myself a headache as I battled to give shape to this whole concept. I normally enjoy sermon writing and have developed tricks and tools to get myself into the creative zone, but yesterday nothing was working. Pacing a random path through Cambridgeport muttering under my breath is a last resort, and at this point I hated everything.

“Why did I pick this topic? Do I have anything meaningful to write? Is there anything I can say about joy that hasn’t already been discussed to death by those darn Buddhist lamas? Is it too late to change my topic again? (Yes.) Can I just write it in the morning? (Absolutely not.)” And on and on, discarding ideas as quickly as I considered them, spiraling into imposter syndrome, until one thought stopped my in my tracks. 

“THIS IS A SERMON ABOUT NOT OVERTHINKING OUR WAY OUT OF JOY.” 

I took a deep breath in, which alerted me to the lovely smell of the lilac bushes I had been ignoring, and then I laughed.

Lama Rod Owens writes,

“Happiness is the natural state of our minds, as it holds space for all the material of our minds, and our experiences: both the comfortable experiences as well as the uncomfortable ones, and everything in between.

In my practice, I often think about the metaphor of a cloudy day. Because the sky is overcast, doesn't mean the sun is not shining. A really dramatic experience of this can be seen on a plane flight, as the plane takes off, and ascends above the cloud level, breaking through into the intensity of sun radiating in the clear sky. Happiness is always there, but often I have to be reminded of that.

When I say "happiness," I'm not necessarily referring to this euphoric experience that's like being in a Disney cartoon [...] and it's raining candy. Euphoria is what most people think authentic happiness is, and thinking this, they feel barred from the experience, because this experience is so hard to bring about when their lives are so difficult. However, I'm not that interested in that kind of happiness.

I'm interested in the level of happiness that is actually about us just being in our bodies, or at least having an aspiration to be in our bodies. Being connected. Being sensitive. Being in tune with the world around us, despite how hard the world is.”

I think this is a useful exploration, though I tend to gravitate more towards the word “joy.” To me, “happiness” is a word that evokes a more cerebral experience, and “joy” evokes a more gut-level, embodied experience. And while there’s nothing wrong with thinking, if our thoughts get carried away with us that’s a pretty surefire way to lose track of that joyful sensation. You might recall a time when you were feeling really good until you thought of something that “brought you crashing back to earth.” 

Sometimes the negative emotional spaces become so familiar that they begin to feel safe, safer than joy, and we begin to associate feeling bad with virtuousness, and feeling good with guilt. If we enjoy something that we don’t feel we can justify, that’s a “guilty pleasure.” We feel the need to create complex justifications for any happiness we do feel. “It’s okay to enjoy chocolate, because it has antioxidants!” No, my friend, it’s okay to enjoy chocolate because you enjoy it. Does that feel uncomfortable to hear? You’re not alone.

I’m historically a pro at this type of performative Calvinism. I can offset the “sinfulness” of feeling good by devoting it to a good cause. I can participate in fun events because it’s right to support community. I can take the train, which I prefer over flying, because it’s better for the environment. I can be grateful to have a wonderful job because my job is helping other people. I can be visibly happy in public because it might give hope to young queer people.

It has been a huge labor to realize and begin to embrace the radical idea that joy might be its own purpose. I haven’t believed in original sin or a conditional heavenly afterlife in several decades, so it’s time to scrub out this artifact that that belief system has left behind in me. To live, to be present, to feel it all, to rejoice - these are all worthy goals. 

This shows up in liberal and progressive spaces in a particular way, too. Have you ever been made to feel like you were obligated to be upset? Okay, I won’t disagree that things in the world are, have been, and continue to be quite dire. And there is a lot of pain that we need to not shy away from feeling, especially in situations where we are allies to marginalized folks and are rectifying situations of our own ignorance.

But the necessity of being present with suffering and injustice should not be extrapolated to mean we should shut down feelings of joy in ourselves and others. Otherwise what is the point? Why fight to make the world a better place if rejoicing in it is off limits? Plus, we need that joy to recharge ourselves for the struggle. Do not believe the idea that you are abandoning the work by embracing moments of happiness and peace.

I have to wonder if this is part of why we are so culturally drawn to the idea of euphoria - because we can’t be culpable for things we don’t have control over. Euphoria is something that happens to us. Joy, on the other hand, requires our participation. Rather than feeling ashamed for that participation, though, I want to challenge us all to participate more intentionally. 

Here’s the thing: It is to our evolutionary advantage to remember pain more than we remember happiness. Our brains got good at surviving by marking things that scare or hurt us as Very Important and for the sake of efficiency the not-painful and not-scary experiences are way down on the memory storage priority list. Think of how it just takes one fight with a friend to change how you trust that person, even if you have years of other shared time with them. 

As psychologically complex beings, it becomes necessary for us to compensate for this survival instinct if we want happiness in our lives. 

In every moment of our lives, there is a mix of emotions present. At any given time, you could probably think of something to be sad about, something to be angry about, something to be worried about, and something you’re grateful for. In order to manage the natural bias towards paying attention to fear and pain, I believe it is necessary to participate in noticing joy. 

When we take a moment to become present and take inventory of our experience, we have the opportunity to tell ourselves, “hey, that happiness is important. Remember that. Hold onto that.” It is unlikely that this will change anyone’s satisfaction with their life in a day or a week, but over time I do believe this can have a profound effect on how we think of our lives.

Another, perhaps easier, way to do this is by intentionally commenting on the good. As adrienne maree brown says, “What we pay attention to, grows.” We each have a choice to pay attention to the things that bother us or the things we appreciate. Next time you’re having dinner with family or friends, and perhaps the experience is a mixed bag, go ahead and zero in on what you’re enjoying, and try stating it aloud. A simple “this is nice” or “I’m glad we’re here” builds up over time to strengthen your recollections of the positive and your relationships at the same time. 

Don’t wait for things to feel perfect before you acknowledge joy, or you’ll find yourself waiting a very long time.

Cultivating happiness is not just an individual endeavor, either. To experience the joy offered by community, we have to make a team effort. We need to notice and uplift the beauty we find in the works and presence of those around us. We need to state aloud and repeat what we love about being together here.

There is always work to be done to change and grow, but the point at the root of our presence here is to enjoy what we find in each other and ourselves in this space. We seek joy for joy’s sake, and we can lose sight of that when we spend all our time thinking about what isn’t working, what bothers us, what might go wrong. 

There is a time for considering and voicing those pains, with the goal of strengthening our togetherness. But at its best, that sharing should give us a path to return to joy. 

When you notice happiness within and around you, even in an imperfect reality, put a pause on the reflex to analyze. Make space for the truth that suffering is here, right alongside joy, and clap anyway. 

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[Copyright 2023 Miranda (Bran) Lennox]