A sermon was given on June 20, 2010 at Wapping Community Church in my hometown by a man named Bob King. The sermon was entitled "Real Happiness", and Bob died just a few hours after delivering the sermon to the people of the congregation. He was a father to two young children and a beloved husband. He was riding his bike down the back roads of Somers, CT when he had a fatal heart attack. Bob King, just 55 years old, died that Father's Day afternoon.
His sermon came up several times during conversations with my mother, who had grown close to Bob King and his family after serving with him as a deacon. She found it ironic that he died just after preaching this life-changing sermon, almost as though his purpose on Earth was to spread the word of "Real Happiness", and once this purpose was accomplished, it was time for him to go home.
Bob King's sermon was published in the Journal Inquirer (a Connecticut newspaper). It was mentioned in his obituary. It was posted online. This man had most definitely spread the message of what real happiness was, and people couldn't get enough of it. Here is his sermon, word for word. Pass it on.
"Real Happiness"
June 20, 2010
Bob King
Isaiah 55: 1-12
It is Father's Day today and some of us are grateful for that. Some of us get excited -- we might even get excused from taking out the trash or cutting the grass today. It reminds me of a story that addresses both Father's Day and the predicament we find ourselves in today with no actual clergy to be seen in church on a Sunday morning.
One of our favorite TV shows is America's Funniest Home Videos. The other day there was one scene where proud parents were taping some performance, with the camera homed in on a six-year-old boy. He finished the dance number and with his fellow performers went to sit down in a row of chairs in the middle of the stage. You thought he was going to just sit quietly with everybody else. As if nobody could see him, he started waving to his father, trying to get his attention. "Dad," he said in a stage whisper. "Dad. Hey Dad -- over here!" The father must have made eye contact at that point -- along with everybody else in the room, I'm sure, and the boy asked in that same whisper -- "How am I doin?"
I am definitely not going to ask that question, because I am really afraid what the answer will be. But I am going to talk about that passage from Isaiah. (Isaiah 55: 1-12)
It might be my imagination, but it seems there have been a lot of books and articles written lately about happiness. A lot of researchers have turned their sights on this topic, and why not. What could be more important? Directly or indirectly, isn't this what we all want?
The social psychologist David Myers has written extensively on the subject. He notes that the old American dream, and in fact an age-old idea, is that personal wealth is the way to happiness. It's the indulgences promised by magazine sweepstakes: a 40-foot yacht, a deluxe motor home, a personal housekeeper. ("Whoever said money can't buy happiness isn't spending it right," proclaims a Lexus ad.)
Myers notes that materialism surged during the 1970's and 1980's, as evident in the annual UCLA/American Council on Education (ACE) survey of nearly a quarter million students entering college. The proportion considering it "very important or essential" that they become "very well-off financially" went from 40 to 74 percent, flip-flopping with the shrinking numbers who considered it very important or essential to "develop a meaningful philosophy of life." Materialism was up, spirituality down.
In recent college surveys, being "very well-off financially" has been the top ranked of 19 rated goals, outranking "becoming an authority in my own field," "helping others in difficulty," and "raising a family." And it's not just collegians. Asked by the Roper roll to identify what makes "the good life," 38 percent of Americans in 1975 and 63 percent in 1996 chose "a lot of money." Do you remember the Michael Douglas character in the movie Wall Street? He said "Greed is good."
Does being well-off make for well-being? Would people -- would you -- be happier if you could exchange a modest lifestyle for one with a world-class home theater, a new Mercedes every year, and a house at the beach? Research offers some answers.
To a modest extent, rich people can be happier. Especially in poor countries, such as India, being relatively well-off does make for greater well-being. We need food, rest, shelter, and some sense of control over our lives. But in affluent countries, the link between wealth and self-reported well-being is "surprisingly weak." Once able to afford life's necessities, more and more money provides diminishing additional returns.
Even the very rich are only slightly happier than average.
Over time, does our happiness rise with our affluence? A recent windfall from an inheritance, a surging economy, or a lottery win does provide a temporary jolt of joy. But as soon as one adapts to the new wealth, the euphoria subsides.
What about as a country -- are we happier than in 1957, when economist John Galbraith was describing the United states as The Affluent Society?
Compared to then, today's America is the doubly affluent society -- when doubled real incomes (thanks partly to the doubling of married women's employment) and double what money buys. Americans today own about twice as many cars per person, eat out more than twice as often, and commonly enjoy big screen digital TVs, home computers, central air conditioning, and lots of other stuff.
We are not happier, though. Since 1957, the number of Americans who say they are "very happy" has declined slightly, from 35 to 30 percent. We are twice as right and not happier. Meanwhile, the divorce rate has doubled, the teen suicide rate has more than doubled, and increasingly our teens and young adults are plagued by depression.
Meyers calls this soaring wealth and shrinking spirit "the American paradox." We find ourselves with big houses and broken homes, high incomes and low morale, secured rights and diminished civility. We are excelling at making a living but too often failing at making a life. We celebrate our prosperity but yearn for purpose. We cherish our freedoms but long for connection. In an age of plenty, we are feeling spiritual hunger.
Prophets and wise men of many ages and cultures have known this. In Chapter 55, Isaiah writes, "Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy?" Isaiah gives us the path to happiness too. "Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters, and you that have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Listen carefully to me and eat what is good and delight yourselves in rich food."
What Isaiah is alluding to, of course, is what social scientists say again and again is a key piece of happiness today, as reported by people who call themselves happy: a spiritual connection. One more statistic, and this will be the last one: those who never or seldom go to church are half as likely to pronounce themselves very happy that those who attend regularly.
(By the way, the other factors scientists find are keys to happiness in the modern age are first, a sense of belonging and connection with others -- especially spouses and close friends. Second, optimism and a perceived sense of control over one's life. Third is the state between boredom and stressful activity that scientists call "flow" -- when you are absorbed in an activity of some challenge. For example, most people are happier gardening than power-boating, talking to friends than watching TV.)
But let's get back to the spiritual. Because there is a kind of happiness and then there is real happiness -- the joy of being close to God. The latter is simply impossible if our minds are on money all the time, or on our jobs every minute all day, or on some mindless TV shows for the several hours of prime time. And for that matter, if we are plotting to get power over somebody else in some relationship, we are not going to get close to God. Or if we hold on to some resentment against somebody while outwardly being nice, we are not moving close to God. If we are repeating to ourselves some destructive sentiment -- like "I knew that wouldn't work" or "I messed this up again, like I always do," if we say this to ourselves we are not getting closer to God. If we are lying, or injuring others, we are not getting closer to God.
We need to remind ourselves that we are children of God. We need to listen to our higher selves, our God-selves, our souls, which guide us in the direction of God's intention. They hold our deepest and most genuine feelings. God is speaking to our higher selves all the time. God's thoughts fill the space around us. It is up to us to tune our spiritual radios to hear God speaking. We know intuitively that there is much more to life than wealth and power. Our souls are trying to remember their closeness to God. It's a constant battle with our lower selves, which seek physical gratification, ego-boosting, personal, ethnic, or national power, and other things related not to God but related to this world only. There are certainly enough siren-song messages on radio and TV and movies, on the Internet, and now iPods and iPhones. The messages constantly tell us how to look great in this particular car. Or to be part of this particular group seeking to defeat this other group. Or to somehow reach happiness by great sex or gourmet meals. Or to get rich, and thus get happy.
We need to be aware that these dramas are played out right on our minds every day, and sometimes on many occasions each day. The dramas between good actions and bad, between truth and untruth, between the spiritual and the worldly. Many of us make to-do lists. Some of us would be lost without them because our feeble brains can't quite remember everything we need to remember. And since our higher selves are developed not just in this sanctuary on Sundays but also in day-to-day activities, how about the to-do list as a way to get to that communion with God that we know will make us happier? Maybe we need some new items for our to-do list on a given workday, sandwiched between get groceries, complete that report, and attend that meeting. How about: "Give thanks to God"? How about "Pray to help for that hospitalized friend"? How about this simple task, which can take as little or as much time as you want -- "Ask God to reveal himself." Then take a moment in the midst of your day and perform these tasks. Check them off the list.
Many times of the day are conducive to prayer, meditation, or other spiritual disciplines -- the "money" to buy Isaiah's "rich food." Pray before going to sleep. It doesn't have to be elaborate. Sit quietly before others are awake. And when you are ready to eat dinner, try to refrain from digging in without first saying a prayer. That puts things in the proper order: God first, the material world second. A distant second. Amen.
