ADDICTION, BOWEL MOVEMENTS, PICKLEBALL & HAPPINESS

The root of all addiction is quite simple—whether it is abusing drugs and alcohol, viewing porn, gambling, overeating, compulsive shopping, hoarding, binge watching, problematic smartphone and/or social media use, pathological gaming, workaholism, . . . even good things like exercise, religion, and volunteerism can become misdirected loves. The list of possible addictions is endless. Notwithstanding, one word is sufficient to describe what is at work in every life-controlling issue any human being has ever experienced.

For the record, I have said multiple times in varied settings that addiction is a biological, psychological, social, and spiritual problem. There are many different streams that feed addiction. It is complex.

But then again, it is quite simple. All addiction, when traced to its ultimate source, stems from unhappiness.

Whether that unhappiness comes in the form of loneliness, boredom, resentment, anxiety, insecurity, a sense of insignificance, purposelessness, etc. All of these are faces of unhappiness.

And when we are unhappy—uptight, depressed, confused, . . . discontent—we are sitting ducks for anything that promises relief to our distress, however momentary it may be.

French mathematician, philosopher, and theologian Blaise Pascal (1623-1662) said, “All men seek happiness. This is without exception. Whatever different means they employ, they all tend to this end. The cause of some going to war, and of others avoiding it, is the same desire in both, attended with different views. The will never takes the least step but to this object. This is the motive of every action of every man, even of those who hang themselves.”

We are pain-avoiding, pleasure-seeking creatures. This is intrinsic to our human nature.

For the last thirty years, I have studied happiness. I have done extensive reading, engaged in numerous conversations, observed people, and written many things about this subject. I want to be an effective agent of God’s grace to those struggling with life-destroying habits. My individual mission statement can be summed in four words, “Helping people enjoy life.” But my happiness quest is also very personal. I want to live joyfully because I want to honor God and live freely—unencumbered by unhealthy, life-sapping attachments.

There are innumerable delights which feed joy. From a good meal around the table with family to sharing good conversation with a friend over a cup of freshly brewed coffee. From a lovely hike through the woods on a beautiful fall day to watching an exciting game of college basketball in March on TV. From an embrace with your grandchild to a long and hard-won accomplishment at work. From any number of days sober for a recovering alcoholic to simply getting a good night’s sleep. All of these gifts make for a happier life and should be celebrated.

There are also countless practices that make for joy. For starters, a decent diet, exercise regimen, and proper rest will position one toward a healthier, less-afflicted-more-energetic, state of existence. Seeing your therapist regularly is not a bad idea either. Growth in a few vital virtues such as humility, wisdom, patience, and generosity certainly make for a happier life as well. Throw in disciplines like prayer and meditation, thanksgiving and sabbath-keeping, and you are well on your way to enjoying life more fully.

St. Paul was big on happiness. He considered it his apostolic duty to help people become happy. He told the Corinthians that he worked with them “for (their) joy” (2 Cor. 1:24). To the Philippians, while contemplating the real possibility of execution for his witness, Paul held on to the belief that he would “remain . . . for (their) progress and joy in the faith” (1:25). Though tried and oppressed like few, Paul himself was a man abounding in joy. (There are over ten references to joy alone in Paul’s short letter to Philippians, a book he wrote in prison while facing death.)

What was the basis of Paul’s joy? Was there something he did or some way of being that caused him to have this overwhelming sense of peace, strength, and goodwill? Was there some kind of “happy place” in which he lived?

Yes! And it was a very strange place. He writes, “May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world” (Galatians 6:14). The word boast means, “to glory or rejoice in, to derive deep and profound satisfaction in.” It is like a proud parent exalting in his or her child’s superior achievement or a traveler reveling about a past vacation spot. It is the good feelings derived from something which cannot be contained but must be expressed.

Think about it. Paul finds joy in what at face value is reprehensible, scandalous. The exclamation, “May I never boast except in Christ’s cross” is akin to saying something like, “I get a buzz from seeing people (Jesus specifically!) hang. Lethal injection turns me on. The electric chair is really cool.” If that is not shocking enough, Paul declares that he restricts—limits exclusively—all his boasting, all his bragging, all his joy to the cross.

Why? Can’t we enjoy a wonderfully prepared steak? Shouldn’t we? Are we not supposed to find pleasure in a refreshing swim on a hot day or from reading an inspiring novel? Why did Paul say, May I never boast or glory in anything but the cross?

Author John Piper helped me with this years ago. Because of the cross of Christ, we don’t get what we deserve, and we get what we don’t deserve. Christ’s bloody death spares us from the wrath and condemnation we deserve as sinners. Christ bore the penalty of our sin. We do not have to pay. Isaiah the prophet writes, “He was wounded for our transgressions; he was bruised for our iniquities” (53:5). But there is more. Because of Christ’s perfect obedience, we are in line for blessing after blessing—all of which in our own we do not deserve. Accordingly, Paul breaks out in triumphant praise proclaiming that God “has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ” (Ephesians 1:3).

At the cross, we receive forgiveness, security, true significance, peace, and freedom. Through Jesus’ death, we understand and experience most powerfully that we are loved, wanted, and treasured. At Calvary, we see the unsurpassed beauty, majesty, and greatness of Christ. Christ’s death secures for us justification, sanctification, reconciliation, imputation of righteousness, and adoption. The gospel of God’s grace was the foundation of Paul’s joy and ours.

But how does this work practically in our everyday lives? Are we to boast only in the cross but never about anything else?

No. We recognize that every good thing we have and every bad thing we don’t have is all owing to Christ’s work at Calvary. Every sunrise I see, chirping of a bird I hear, flower I smell, burger I taste, and kiss I enjoy from my wife, . . . every jog and bike ride I take, project I complete, difficult season I’ve come through, convicting check by the Holy Spirit I receive, dental trip I make (50% of the world’s population have no access to dental care), glass of water I drink (25% of the world’s population do not have access to safely managed drinking water), bill I am able to pay, and breath I take, . .  each of these graces is “blood bought.” So, often I raise my voice or lift my thoughts to my Creator and say or think, “Thank you for this kindness that was undeserved, this blood-bought gift owing solely to the mercy and merit of Jesus Christ.

And that includes bowel movements (just keeping it real!) and playing pickleball.

The most important battle we face every day is the one to be happy, or as Paul put it three times in the book of Philippians, to “rejoice in the Lord.”

You see, the joy of the Lord is our strength. It provides the power to say “No!” to all that dishonors God and destroys us and, at the same time, the enablement to say “Yes!” to all that is right and good and true.

If you want a deep and durable joy, one grounded in Ultimate Reality, and not some cheap, flighty happiness subject to the winds of time and space, one conditioned on circumstances and happenings and ever fluctuating emotions, there is only one place to go—to Christ and him crucified.

Jesus, keep me near the cross,
There a precious fountain—
Free to all, a healing stream—
Flows from Calv’ry’s mountain.

Chorus
In the cross, in the cross,
Be my glory ever;
Till my raptured soul shall find
Rest beyond the river.