The Pursuit of Happiness as an Axiom Within Spiritual Formation: Analyzing the Role of the Happiness Within Moral and Spiritual Growth

Abstract

This article argues that training the universal happiness impulse within each of us toward Christocentric directions serves as a constructive axiom within Christian spiritual formation. Although contemporary Christian discourse often treats happiness with suspicion, fearing its association with secularism, prosperity teaching, or naïve emotionalism, historic Christian thought consistently linked happiness with virtue, discipleship, and abiding by Jesus’ teachings. By tracing philosophical, historical, and biblical perspectives, particularly the vision of flourishing embedded in the Sermon on the Mount, this article contends that authentic happiness emerges as a byproduct of acquiring Christlike virtue. Recognizing happiness as an orienting desire can clarify its formative purpose within askêsis and illuminate how growth in holiness can yield genuine joy in life with God.

Introduction

Few feelings, emotions, or concepts have stirred more confusion within Christian dialogue than happiness. While it appears that sources within early Christian thought were more comfortable with associating the Christian moral life with the concept of happiness, ¹ recent discussion appears more skeptical about whether earthly happiness even deserves consideration within the Christian life. ² Today, many believe that God calls us to be “holy, not happy,” and others express sentiments such as “Happiness is secular; joy is sacred.” ³ Others still amass skepticism about happiness in the Christian life due to fear of association with such movements as the “prosperity gospel” or “new thought movements.” ⁴ More worrisome is the idea that Christianity, when taken seriously, requires one to neglect happiness altogether. As Søren Kierkegaard once put it, “The truth is: to become a Christian is to become, humanly speaking, unhappy for this life. . .the more you involve yourself with God and the more he loves you, the more you will become. . .unhappy for this life, the more you will come to suffer in this life.” ⁵

Yet, while happiness is not necessarily an all-encompassing onslaught of positive emotion that is a reward for Christian life, the activity or essence of happiness is necessarily a byproduct of faithfully following Jesus. J. P. Moreland and Klaus Issler have even referred to happiness as Christianity’s “lost virtue.” ⁶ This is thanks, in large part, to the way that ethical formation often contributes to an increase in subjective well-being and self-outlook. ⁷ Paul Wadell beautifully describes the happiness that comes from an intentional lifestyle of following Jesus:

We are novices in the habits of happiness, and novices need a teacher. In the Christian life our primary teacher in the way of happiness is Christ. He is our mentor; we are his disciples. And it is by observing him, listening to him, learning from him, following his teachings, and imitating his example that we grow in happiness. The mortal life is a training in happiness, and, for Christians, happiness is intrinsically connected to Christ. In Christ one sees the path to happiness and discovers the virtues and practices constitutive of happiness. For Christians, happiness is a way of life by which we gradually are conformed to the love, goodness, and beauty of God revealed to us in Christ. ⁸

As I will argue throughout this paper, it is my belief that the role of happiness in spiritual formation has often been left underdeveloped in contemporary discussion. There is a historic weight to happiness within virtue formation that should not be overlooked. While there is undoubtedly mental, spiritual, and physical hardship (as in the case of fasting or practices of abstinence) that is embedded in a life of intentional spiritual formation—much of which will not be experienced as “happiness,” per say—it is a mistake to consider these hardships, or the requisite sufferings that come along with the Christian moral life, as if they outweigh the pure joy of following Christ (Rom. 8:18). In fact, understanding and then taking captive our natural penchant to pursue happiness for God’s glory can even function as a helpful axiom to push us forward in our spiritual formation. Personal happiness is not the goal of our formation, but it is certainly a byproduct and can often be assessed as a helpful way to gauge one’s moral, spiritual, and mental growth into Christ’s likeness. While the topic has been discussed tangentially within sanctification-related literature, a comprehensive examination of its role in formation would be fruitful for present academic discourse.

In this article, I will begin by explaining the way that happiness is one of the most basic universal human desires. I will then move in to discuss the way this universal desire for happiness has been understood by Christians throughout history. Next, I present a biblical response to this universal desire for happiness, most ostensibly depicted within the Sermon on the Mount. From there, I will argue that the pursuit of a greater righteousness ultimately allows us to acquire a taste for genuine happiness of our kingdom life with God. Finally I will conclude by offering an overview of how training the happiness impulse can become an axiom for spiritual formation because of its close relation with askêsis—a term I will employ interchangeably with formation, which is central to this article’s thesis—within the Christian life.

Happiness as the Universal Human Desire

Happiness is the primal human desire—a “gravitational impulse” we cannot help but follow. ⁹ In Augustine’s words, “Every man, whatsoever his condition, desires to be happy. . .whoever, in fact, desires other things desires them for the purpose of happiness alone.” ¹⁰ Perhaps the most famous description of this longing from a theological perspective comes from Blaise Pascal:

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. ¹¹

There are very few things a room full of academics would agree on, but this is likely one of them. ¹² Plato, Aristotle, Augustine, Aquinas, Bentham, Montaigne, Hume, Franklin, Mill, Freud, Diderot, Foucault, Dawkins and countless others agree: the pursuit of happiness is our basic instinct. It is also a central fixture of all religions. Buddhists strive to achieve “nirvana,” or a state of total contentment. Living out Confucianism’s five virtues is imagined to bring perfect fulfillment. Taoists believe that abiding by Tao’s teachings leads to the good life. Stoics think attaining virtue is equivalent to attaining happiness. ¹³ While many secular critics draw caricatures of religion as a joy-drainer, I cannot think of a single person who converted to any religion out of anything other than a hope that it will bring them closer to the good life. ¹⁴

However, sadly, according to informal surveys conducted amongst college students and social media followers, along with much anecdotal evidence, many today are under the impression that Christianity does not offer a vision of happiness in the present, but only once we arrive in a post-mortem state, ¹⁵ what is often called “eschatological happiness.” ¹⁶ This is unfortunate; despite how integral the practice of happiness was within historic Christianity, many today assume that God does not offer or even care about our happiness. ¹⁷ Yet, if we understand happiness in terms of gaining wealth, pleasure, power, status, or self-expression (what we might call “happiness according to the flesh” cf. Rom. 8:5–7, 16), then it is not surprising that many believe Christianity has little involvement with it. At issue is mainly the discrepancy between pursuing happiness as it really is and pursuing happiness according to the impulses of our flesh. In any longitudinal survey, I imagine that any Christian will almost assuredly find that they were far more delighted by abiding in Christ than they would have been doing the opposite. It is merely difficult to do such accounting in the short-term.

In Jesus’ day, the works of Plato, Aristotle, and Epicurus had brought this universal longing for happiness into the mainstream. ¹⁸ For them, eudaimonia as the central outcome of one’s ethical orientation toward the good was rather obvious. ¹⁹ But what many early Christians seemed to believe—which is something modern Western Christianity has almost entirely lost—is that the way of Jesus seemed to answer this universal longing for happiness. ²⁰ They understood what William Vorster put into words: “Happiness is to be found in Christ. He is the inaugurator of happiness. In sorrow or pain, poverty or sadness, he is the reason why Christians can be happy.” ²¹ Christianity essentially assumes that the quickest way to answer the happiness question that had riddled humans since the dawn of time was to put down whatever else they were doing and follow Christ. ²² But in contrast to other popular theories of happiness, both ancient and contemporary, Christian happiness should gradually shift one’s attention away from oneself, understanding that only when “humanity pursues the worship and glory of God will happiness result.” ²³ In this important sense, happiness is not the “goal but the effect of the goal.” ²⁴

Many Christians throughout history noticed this universal desire for happiness, and many also noted that Jesus provided the only perfect response. For example, Justin Martyr saw the Christian life as the fulfillment of the pursuit of happiness. ²⁵ He even thought that following our happiness impulse would lead people closer to Christian morality. Origen said that God entered the world in the form of Christ to “implant in us the happiness that comes from knowing Him.” ²⁶ Similarly, when Gregory of Nyssa commented on Christian morality, he wrote, “Just as the art of the physician looks to health, and the aim of farming is to provide for life, so also the practice of virtue has as its aim that the one who lives virtuously will become happy.” ²⁷ For Augustine, God and happiness were inseparable: “Following after God is the desire of happiness; to reach God is happiness itself.” ²⁸ Boethius dissected the nature of happiness within books II-III of his Consolation of Philosophy and ultimately concluded that the happiness desire was only satiated in God. ²⁹ Aelred, a medieval abbot of Rievaulx, said that the happiness instinct singed into our minds after the Fall alienated us from God. The desire then works like a compass to help us navigate and then shorten the distance between us and God. ³⁰ Thomas Aquinas called happiness our “ultimate end” and the “perfect good which entirely satisfies one’s desire.” But this desire for “universal good” can’t be quenched by any “created good,” since our desire was really aimed toward the Creator. Thus, “God alone constitutes man’s happiness.” ³¹ Bonaventure called God “the fountain of delight” because every other delight points back to Him. ³² Julian of Norwich said that satisfaction comes when we are “pleased with God and with all His works, and with all His judgments, and loving and peaceable with ourself and with all that God loveth.” ³³ Jonathan Edwards wrote, “There is no man upon the earth who isn’t earnestly seeking after happiness, and it appears abundantly by the variety of ways they so vigorously seek it; they will twist and turn every way, ply all instruments, to make themselves happy men.” ³⁴ Edwards considered meditating on God “truly happifying”—an endeavor filled with “pure sweet” and no “bitterness.” ³⁵ John Wesley wrote that God is our “essential life and happiness,” and that “human misery” only begins reversing toward happiness after conversion. ³⁶ Evangelist George Whitfield said, “Is it the end of religion to make men happy, and is it not every one’s privilege to be as happy as he can?. . . Does [Jesus] want your heart only for the same end as the devil does, to make you miserable? No. . .the dear Savior desires to make you happy, that you may leave your sins, to sit down eternally with him.” ³⁷ Dietrich Bonhoeffer taught that “earthly society is only the beginning of the heavenly society” and, as such, part of the Christian life was growing into the happiness of the heavenly society through remolding the earthly society toward heaven. ³⁸ Lastly, Dallas Willard said that two of the four most important questions we could ask ourselves are “Who is really well-off or blessed?” and “How does someone become well-off or blessed?” And, of course, Jesus’ way was the only perfect response, since “joy is our portion in his fellowship.” ³⁹

The more we consider the universality of the happiness desire, the more it would appear rather odd that God would implant this universal desire in every human being—regardless of time, age, gender, or culture of origin—but then invite those humans into a way of life that essentially ignored that desire. Taken one step further, we might ask why God would ingrain every living being with this insatiable desire for happiness if the most idyllic calibration of that happiness impulse was anything other than the life Jesus called us into. Many have also noted that God may have embedded this desire into us for the ultimately beautiful purpose that our longing for happiness would inevitably lead us back to Him. Augustine described his conversion to Christianity as a following of the pleasures of the earth to their divine source: “How sweet all at once it was for me to be rid of those fruitless joys which I had once feared to lose!. . .You drove them from me, you who are the true, the sovereign joy. You drove them from me and took their place, you who are sweeter than all pleasure.” ⁴⁰ Augustine even explicitly used the “human hunger for happiness” ⁴¹ as an apologetic to point people to God. Similarly, Pascal said that our “inability” to quench our “infinite abyss” of desire was a signal that it could only be filled “by God Himself.” ⁴² All of which is helpfully captured in C. S. Lewis’ phrase, “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.” ⁴³ Though it could perhaps be something of a slightly strong suggestion, perhaps God made the pursuit of happiness the natural human instinct because if we were to follow the impulse far enough, past the dead ends of second-order desires such as wealth or pleasure or status, ⁴⁴ we might just find ourselves closer to practicing the way of Jesus. ⁴⁵

Thus far I have argued that the pursuit of happiness is the natural human instinct and demonstrated the ways in which Christians have seen the connection between this impulse and our pursuit of God. But is this a biblically sound notion? I will now turn to address that question.

Biblical Response to the Universal Longing for Happiness

Sentiments that pertain to joy, delight, gladness, and happiness are littered throughout the Scriptures. Jesus promised that He would make our joy “full” (John 15:11). Other examples include “Your sorrow will turn into joy” (John 16:20), “You fill me with the fullness of joy in your presence” (Ps. 16:11), “The joy of the Lord is your strength” (Neh. 8:10). Paul alone gave five commands to “rejoice” (2 Cor. 13:11; Phil. 2:18; 3:1; 4:4; 1 Thess. 5:16). ⁴⁶ Yet perhaps the clearest point in the Scriptures to analyze the role of happiness is the Sermon on the Mount. ⁴⁷

To begin explaining its significance, it is necessary to discuss how the word makarios (“blessed”) that begins the Sermon was filled with meaning for both Jew and Greek. Whereas the Jewish Scriptures frequently focused on what made a person “blessed” (ʾašrê or bārûk), the Greeks were more fixated on “happiness” or “human flourishing (eudaimonia and/or markarios). ⁴⁸ Jesus’ word choice would have triggered both ideas, according to Jonathan Pennington’s work on the Beatitudes. ⁴⁹

As for ašrê, the connotations of this kind of blessing are often construed as if it means something akin to “If you do x, God will reward you with y.” ⁵⁰ But ʾašrê is more so declaring what makes a person flourish (ex. Psalm 1:1). In that sense, it insists that those who avoid the council of the wicked make a naturally self-rewarding choice. It is most likely that ʾašrê is not describing a karmic reality in which God rewards us tit-for-tat when we do things that please Him. Instead, it refers to the way that abiding by God’s ways naturally causes us to flourish personally, relationally, and circumstantially. ⁵¹

As for makarios, the actual word that starts the Sermon, it is a frequent term Jesus chooses for describing those who enter the kingdom of heaven (Matt. 11:6; 13:16; 16:17; 24:46). ⁵² While much scholarly ink has been spilled over the best way to translate makarios, a 1^st century listener would have likely heard it as a blanket word for God-given happiness, good fortune, flourishing, and happiness. ⁵³ All the best ideas of human flourishing, joy, and contentment are bottled up in this single term, which is why one simple way to translate makarios is simply “happy.” ⁵⁴ But it is not merely emotional or psychological happiness—it is more so describing a way of being in the world that naturally results in flourishing. ⁵⁵ In that sense, it is almost exactly like ʾašrê. In fact, whenever the authors of the Septuagint translated ʾašrê, they always, without fail, used makarios. ⁵⁶

For these reasons, many are moving away from the “blessed” translation. ⁵⁷ The actual “blessing” Jesus is describing in the Sermon is simply the joy of actively participating in God’s family that arrived through His kingdom. It is our comprehension of the fact that the God of the universe loves us and invites us into His will—that it is available to all. Therefore, Jesus’ makarios is most likely a state or activity of receiving or experiencing happiness, and it is inextricably tied with the moral life as outlined by God.

Now, of course, modern ears do not typically hear “happiness” and think “ethics.” But the ancients (Aristotle, Cicero, and the Psalmists), saw them as entirely related. You could not live the good life without living an ethical life. ⁵⁸ Further, while there is no way to know whether Jesus read Aristotle, it is likely that Aristotle’s ideas of happiness were so popular that they became the water that the 1^st century swam in, and thus Jesus’ involvement in Hellenistic culture would have given him a passing awareness of these ideas. ⁵⁹ This double influence from both Jewish and Greek culture is why NT scholar Scot McKnight wrote that the “entire history of the philosophy of the ‘good life’ and the late modern theory of ‘happiness’ is at work when one says, ‘Blessed are. . .” ⁶⁰

Many sadly tend to write off the Beatitudes as if they are a strange detour before Jesus’ more cerebral, theological teachings. ⁶¹ But this is so unfortunate, because the Beatitudes are “Christ’s answer to the question of happiness.” ⁶² Yet, what should jump out to both ancient and modern hearers of the Beatitudes is the way these qualities have no resemblance with a happiness according to the flesh. Rather than praising the rich and proud, He raises “the poor in spirit” (i.e., the humble, unassuming, and powerless). Rather than lift up the ecstatic, He says happiness belongs to “those who mourn” (i.e., those experiencing the reality of suffering or loss, or those grieved by the things they have done that have hurt others).

Paradoxically, even though things like “mourning” don’t feel great in the moment, they often lead to comfort in the long run. When we confront the reality of loss, suffering, or guilt head on, we learn to grow, change, and heal. “A person who sees things as they truly are and sympathizes with pain and sorrow is capable of touching life’s depths and finding authentic happiness.” ⁶³ In other words, it is almost as if Jesus said, “Happy is the one who confronts the sadnesses of life; for if they had avoided them, they would’ve never stumbled into the comfort, consolation, and healing I offer.” Those who mourn are happier than those who distract themselves in blissful ignorance. Or, in Qoheleth’s words, “It is better to attend a funeral than a party” (Ecc. 7:2).

Interestingly, some preliminary social scientific research suggests that humans may require bouts of negative emotions to experience richer lives. In six separate studies, psychologist Shigehiro Oishi and colleagues found that the happiest people were often those who experienced the whole spectrum of emotion more strongly—not just the emotions associated with positivity. ⁶⁴ Perhaps in the same way that emotions like envy or anxiety add drama to our movies, so negative emotions add texture and meaning to the fabric of our lives. We can only properly savor goodness when we have an opposite flavor to compare it to.

This is not to suggest that poverty and grief are aspirational; Jesus does not instruct us to hope for our friends to pass away or finances to become scarce. He is rather stressing the extremes or reaches of God’s generosity—that heaven’s availability becomes more pronounced in struggle, that everyone can receive it regardless of status, worth, circumstance, or ability. As R. T. France puts it, the Beatitudes “call on those who would be God’s people to stand out as different from those around them, and promise them that those who do so will not ultimately be the losers.” ⁶⁵ There is a superior overall happiness for those who are “sorrowful but always rejoicing,” than those who merely rejoice. Again, pain and suffering aren’t good things; but experiencing pain within a religious framework often reshapes our pain into something beautiful, meaningful, and rich.

The same general principle applies for each Beatitude. ⁶⁶ It is better to “hunger and thirst for righteousness” than consider yourself self-sufficient. It is more desirable to receive “persecution for righteousness’ sake” than to stay silent in the face of evil, injustice, and wickedness. We will not live a rich life if “we are always looking to fit in, always seeking the approval of others, or always doing our best not to stir things up.” ⁶⁷ Taking Jesus’ Sermon seriously might leave us looking annoying, ridiculous, and out of touch with the reality; but perhaps a life free of the social concerns of looking strange while serving Jesus is a fixture of a genuinely good life.

Put simply, “To live the Beatitudes is to live a happy and good life.” ⁶⁸ The Beatitudes, along with the rest of the lifestyle Jesus, inevitably bring us nearer to satiating our happiness impulse. As Paul Wadell summarizes it, “Happiness characterizes the person who intentionally and consistently aspires to a life marked by humility, peacemaking, mercy, purity of heart, and securing justice for others. It is that kind of life—and not any other possible life—that offers a road map to happiness.” ⁶⁹ But, of course, it is not conventional happiness. Jesus describes those who follow Him as traveling down a narrow way that few endure (Matt. 7:13–14). Yet even though suffering is necessarily involved, the suffering never outweighs the joy promised to anyone who traverses His path. The sufferings are not even worth comparing with His glory (Rom. 8:18).

Now I will discuss how entering into the moral vision of the Sermon creates more flourishing.

How Moral Formation Creates Flourishing

Since the Beatitudes open the Sermon, it is almost like a disclaimer that the whole of the teaching invites its followers into what a happy, flourishing, and fortunate life really looks like. And its subsequent focus on fulfilling the law, pursuing genuine righteousness, exercising discernment, and becoming whole help usher listeners deeper into idea that this complex lifestyle of ethics will result in a greater flourishing than ulterior systems of pursuing happiness. William Mattison notes that in the Sermon, “attention to moral obligations is important, but not primary. Jesus’ central question is how can I live a good and happy life. This of course entails living according to moral rules, rules which at times are experienced as obligations. Yet the rules are ideally understood not simply as obligations to be obeyed, but as prescribing activity that leads to real happiness.” ⁷⁰ More than describing a set of laws, it is outlining a lifestyle of moral formation. ⁷¹

Perhaps the statement within the Sermon that best depicts this is, “You must be perfect as your heavenly father is perfect” (Matt. 5:48). Students often joke about the sheer seeming impossibility of this verse, noting its preposterously high bar. But in reality the verse is not a chain to guilt us about not measuring up. As Katherine Schori has argued, it is a maxim for a happy life with God. Jesus knew humans could not reach literal perfection. The word for “perfect” is teloios, which, as an adjective, is often translated “completion,” or “wholeness.” In this sense, it is less an anxiety-inducing command than a motivational one-liner about how those who lead the best lives will pursue becoming more whole, more like Jesus. By taking Jesus’ teachings seriously, we become more complete. And the simple act of accepting this journey brings us further into His makarios. ⁷² The journey of formation itself—the reordering, growing in righteousness, and formation into Christ’s likeness—is itself the activity of happiness. ⁷³ So in a roundabout way, “You therefore must be perfect as your Heavenly Father is perfect” might be the closest mantra in Jesus’ arsenal to what we today call the “pursuit of happiness.” Except instead of pursuing positive feelings or comforts for their own sake, it is about pursuing His righteousness, losing our lives so that we find it in Him. The more whole we become, the happier we should become, since by it we distance ourselves from sin. ⁷⁴

There is a helpful phrase that is often attributed to Ignatius of Loyola that states that “Sin is the unwillingness to trust that what God wants for us is only our deepest happiness.” ⁷⁵ Of course, God punishes sin, but sin is also self-punishing. It locks us into a hell of our own making. When Dante describes those caught up in vices throughout Inferno, the word he uses for their suffering is contrapasso, which translates to “what each has done, he suffers.” The point he is making is that “when we choose to sin, we choose our own suffering.” ⁷⁶

Sadly, many wrongly believe that sin is actually more fun, exciting, or pleasurable than righteousness. We might even quietly hold a grudge against God for preventing us from doing the stuff that would make us really happy, like using drugs or shamelessly self-promoting online. Similarly, we might feel self-congratulatory when we resist sin, as if we made a harrowing self-sacrifice. Sin has no capacity to make us truly happy because its very nature opposes God’s beatitude. If we resent God for preventing us from sin because we believe sin is actually fun, or if we pat ourselves on the back when we sidestep temptation, then we misunderstand both sin and happiness. Like Boethius observed, “Anyone that chooses to look back on his past excesses will perceive that pleasures had a sad ending: and if they can render a man happy, there is no reason why we should not say that the very beasts are happy too.” ⁷⁷ Essentially, someone who really believes that sin makes them happier than righteousness is someone whose desires have not grown any more sophisticated than an animal who finds satisfaction in returning to its own vomit (2 Pet. 2:22).

If we could see the end of sin from the beginning, we would praise God for offering us a way out everytime. His righteousness necessarily makes us happier. “Virtue itself becomes the reward of the virtuous man, and wickedness the punishment of the evil one.” ⁷⁸ God leads us into makarios by providing us the discernment to weed the evil from the good. All this is to say that the one who grows toward Christ will naturally grow in their distaste for wickedness and their love for righteousness. They will also come to realize that the will of God, a lifestyle of abiding in Him, is truly something that is far more appealing than any desire of the flesh. This aspect of happiness, the desire at that it is often a taste that can acquired over time, is where we will now turn.

The Acquired Taste of Christian Happiness

If living out Jesus’ teachings really makes us happy, the Christian moral life is essentially a long process of training our happiness instincts to crave righteousness over wickedness, goodness over evil, our freedom in Christ over freedom to sin. But as in one who attempts to go from couch potato to marathon runner, the early parts of training are usually the most difficult. Yet over time we will start to like the things God likes and dislike things God dislikes.

However, I should clarify that even though growing toward the happiness of life with God requires training, this does not mean we have to work to earn happiness. This is because, as Josef Pieper has argued, happiness is first and foremost a “gift.” ⁷⁹ While I believe that Pieper is exactly right, it should be stressed that it is an extremely unique kind of gift. Unlike other gifts, this gift comes with a training regimen that, if we refuse, leaves us unable to appreciate it. For example, imagine giving a copy of War and Peace to your toddler. Will they appreciate? Almost certainly not. But over time, as they grow as readers and take a few literature courses, they may come to find that War and Peace is an incredible gift. The gift did not change at all; but the child did. ⁸⁰

This is much like Christian happiness. It is less a state of being than a “form of acting” ⁸¹ —“something in which we participate” ⁸² and learn to crave. It is in this sense that happiness is more of a life-orientation or activity than it is a mere emotion. ⁸³ At first, the novice does not appreciate kingdom living all that much. Prayer may come across more boring than Netflix, drinking too much may sound more fun than drinking too little. But over time, as our “attitudes, habits, and behaviors” change, we start developing appreciation for the kingdom. ⁸⁴ Eventually, over time, we unlearn our cravings for the habits that brought us discontent. We lose our taste for tabloids and acquire taste for novels like War and Peace. Over time, practice and passively receiving transformation from the Spirit, we come to know God—and His infinite fount of joy—more and more. Further, if one does not learn to love and enjoy the way of the kingdom in this life, there is little chance that we will enjoy it in the next. As Robert C. Roberts puts it,

The eternal kingdom is the reward of a spirit who has developed in such a way that such a kingdom can look like a reward to it. So it is every Christian’s duty to combat worldliness in himself, to open himself to influences of holiness, and to practice the practices that will nurture him toward being the sort of person to whom the kingdom of heaven really looks like a reward. ⁸⁵

It is possible that the kingdom of God will only feel like a heaven for those who have learned to enjoy God to the extent that His kingdom can seem like heaven. ⁸⁶ All of which goes to show why even though God gifts us happiness, we cannot acquire a taste for this gift unless we actively participate in the life He laid out for us (Eph. 2:9–10). This process of participation in the life with God in which we learn to crave the moral vision of the kingdom helpfully illustrates the way spiritual formation, understood as incrementally forming into the image of Jesus, is intrinsically related to a training of our happiness impulse. Through spiritual practices, our happiness impulse is more and more satisfied by enjoying God and His goodness. To the specifics of this process of askêsis I now turn.

The Askêsis of Happiness

Askêsis is basically a system of “exercises” or “disciplines” ⁸⁷ that focus on training and sculpting the soul. ⁸⁸ It was rather popular among Greek philosophers. They thought of askêsis as practices that shaped a person’s interior, and from there transformed how they approached their exterior world. As Pierre Hadot puts it, “just as, by repeated physical exercises, athletes give new form and strength to their bodies, so the philosopher develops his strength of soul, modifies his inner climate, and, finally, his entire being.” ⁸⁹ Modes of askêsis might include meditation, prayer, research, writing, dialogue, introspection, memorization, and so on. As such, the concept has much in common with formation—or, at the very least, the spiritual disciplines that are the means to formation. Since many philosophers saw a life of contemplation as the highest form of being, practices of askêsis were almost a way of tuning the soul—the mind, the heart, the spirit—to the frequency of joy, meaning, and beauty. ⁹⁰

In the New Testament, we see frequent mentions of terms like “nurture,” “instruction,” or “discipline” used in the context of shaping a child’s mind and morals (Eph. 6:4; Heb. 12:5–11), or the “training in righteousness” that comes through meditating on “God-breathed” Scripture (2 Tim. 3:16). ⁹¹ In essence, a Christian askêsis involves training to grow into the way, lifestyle, truth, and beauty of Jesus. In this sense, it is quite similar to the disciplines associated with spiritual formation. Accordingly, a Christian askêsis will follow practices that form our heart, soul, mind, and strength toward loving God and others. This might include fasting, intercessory prayer, memorizing Scripture, or confessing sin to our community.

To illustrate askêsis, consider Jesus’ words that many come to in stressful moments, “Come to me and I will give you rest.” The words are soothing in themselves, but we sometimes forget that acquiring this rest is somewhat contingent upon the next instruction: “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me” (Matt. 11:28). ⁹² This two-step process—(1) a promise of some kind of joy, fulfillment, or ultimate good, followed by (2) tough commandments and expectations—is a constant pattern in Jesus’ teaching. (i.e., (1) Want to be like a wise man who built his house upon the rock? (2) Wonderful, put my teachings into practice or else you will end up like the foolish man who built his house on the sand). Askêsis is essentially the second step in Jesus’ teaching pattern. Without askêsis, we will not easily comprehend and enjoy God’s promises. As Dallas Willard described it, “non-discipleship costs you exactly the abundance of life Jesus said he came to bring.” ⁹³ The promises of God ring hollow for those who claim to follow but do not actually follow.

Therefore, as we commit to practice that shape our interior toward the ways of God, practicing a kingdom ethic that imbibes the lifestyle marked out by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount, we should inevitably and incrementally grow to appreciate the ways of His kingdom. In this sense, we grow into God’s radiance when we “behold the glory of the Lord” and receive His transformation “into the same image from one degree of glory to another” (2 Cor. 3:18). As theologian Hans Boersma described it, “By habituating his people throughout history to an ever-greater vision of himself in Christ (and by training us personally to become more like Christ), God changes us.” ⁹⁴ We come to learn that one day in His presence is truly better than a thousand elsewhere (Ps. 84:10)—that the old things that brought us joy were mud in comparison to the luxury of life with God. This is true happiness, a happiness unlike any the world has to offer.

Conclusion

Since the process of spiritual formation inevitably forms and shapes our happiness impulse, we should attempt to understand our happiness as an axiom or orienting desire within our larger paradigms of formation. For example, we may sometimes notice a need to suppress our momentary desire for happiness for the sake of long-term happiness, as in when we may feel led to embark on a fast which deprives us of a short-term good. Other times, we may need to prayerfully envision what God is leading us toward in the future, and if we understand that following His will brings us into deeper treasures of joy should inspire us to make whatever amends necessary to plan accordingly. One could produce innumerable examples of the way that paying attention to our desire for happiness could ultimately deepen our formation.

Thankfully, several contemporary theologians are already moving in this direction. Miroslav Volf is perhaps the most prolific, and he has argued that human flourishing should be a primary concern for theologians since the grand narrative of the Bible is pushing toward the creation of a home where God and man can dwell together in perfect joy. ⁹⁵ Dallas Willard made similar speculations during his editorial work on The Life with God Bible. ⁹⁶ Jonathan Pennington and William Mattison, among plenty of others, have contributed exceptional work within scholarship about the way the flourishing life with God is deeply ingrained in the Sermon on the Mount. Robert Wuthnow has recently published a helpful and extensive sociological survey on the concept of happiness within Christian culture. ⁹⁷ It is my hope that these conversations and topics continue to grow and expand.

In sum, while more investigation into the practical elements of the role of happiness in formation would be helpful, this article has established a foundation for the role of happiness within formation. The pursuit of happiness is a functional tool to use for understanding our motives, guiding our reasoning, and leading us closer into the flourishing life with God. For further study, while many throughout history have depicted happiness as a contrast between eudaimonia and hedonia, with many affirming that happiness should involve both hedonic and eudaimonic elements of happiness, I recommend a joint effort research project between theologians and social scientists to understand whether a third element of askêsis could be added to the discussion. If I were to make a hypothesis while lacking sufficient research, I would assume that formation itself could be the most powerful form of happiness among the three, since it allows us to grow to appreciate the hedonic and eudaimonic elements of life with God better. Therefore, I will end by suggesting my interest in working on this further, and putting out an invitation to anyone else who is interested in investigating this idea as well.