The Category of Joy (5)

What is joy? Continuing our investigation...

5. Joy as Sacrifice

At first sight (and not just at first sight), these terms seem incongruous. And, if someone is familiar with Mother Teresa of Calcutta’s experience of the “dark night of the soul”, the picture below might seem slightly inadequate, as well.

What could this mean, then – this, “joy as sacrifice”? Well, let’s just think of the example of the grandmother, as discussed in yesterday’s installment of our little investigative series – who was the “giver” in that relationship of unconditional love, which the receiver lived out as (a condition of) joy; and let us remember that we asked ourselves then whether “joy” might actually be found (felt) at that giver’s end, as well, and not just at the receiver’s. How can we answer that question? Well, what do we know about the “giver” of unconditional love? We know that such giving of (and from) the self is – or implies, inevitably - an act of self-denial, of self-sacrifice – and that, as such, it also incurs, inevitably, pain, as well. So why does the grandmother do that? Out of love, would be the immediate answer – yet this is no sentimental, fluffy, romantic love, but the actual, harsh love of self-giving (giving of the self, and from the self). And, being an act of true love, there is in it – or behind it, beneath it -  a deep sense of joy, as well, a joy that is associated with living out what appears to be the vocation of the human being – which is, essentially, the giving of the self to(ward) the other. (Note that the same act of self-gift, but in reciprocal form, is what constitutes that “unity of man and woman” that was discussed in yet another earlier episode of this series).

It seems therefore that sacrifice is an aspect, or element – perhaps the visible one, the one that we perceive most readily – of what is, at a deeper level, existentially, a mysteriously joyous (?) act of self-gift (“self-gift” that is the true meaning of “love” – far from the sappy, romantic, sentimental, even self-seeking mis-understanding of the concept).

And now let us look at this thing from yet another angle, using the video below, which is taken from a documentary, Into Great Silence, which presents (with little to no commentary) the daily life of the Carthusian monks of La Grande Chartreuse (in France). It should be noted that the Carthusian order is among the so-called “strictest” contemplative orders; for example, the monks spend most of their days – even their time together, at meals or at work - in silence.

But here the aforementioned notion of “strictness” necessitates some further elaboration - and, in order to do that, let’s start by asking, “who are these monks, and why are they there?” The answer is that these are men (from different walks of life, originally, and of different origins) who have voluntarily decided to turn away from “the world”, from the temporal, in order to dedicate themselves completely, bodily and spiritually, their entire time, and life, to God. The aforementioned “strictness” of the order, therefore, is not some externally imposed, arbitrary, nonsensical rule – but it is the personal choice of each of them, to renounce the things that, in their eyes, represent a lesser or a partial good (of the world, of the temporal order), for a greater, eternal good (of God). Here is another excerpt from the same documentary, in which one of the monks talks about how their choice is, in fact, for happiness - a greater happiness.

I have chosen these examples in order to exemplify “the other side”, as it were, of sacrifice. Indeed, their style of life, of these monks, and their discipline, will seem – for many of us – very hard, even harsh; that, indeed, is the “sacrifice” part. And yet this sacrifice is but a means and a path toward what is considered by them a greater goal, a truer end – which is not dissimilar to how in marriage one in fact renounces (a sacrifice) all other possible options, all other persons – in favor of only one person - in the name of a truer and greater love. See below a short snippet (just some seconds, really) from the trailer of a movie, Of Gods and Men, which recounts the true story of a group of Trappist monks from Algeria, from the monastery of Tibhirine; in this very short sequence, an older monk, while in conversation with a young woman from the village, explains that he has known human love (which is a good), but that he has given up that kind of love, for a greater love (i.e. for Love itself).

[that sequence starts at 1:01]

Can there be, then, deep joy in sacrifice? It seems that there is - but not in a superficial, light, easy way. Instead, that deep joy seems to be the specific counterpart of a certain kind of sacrifice – one that is life-pursuing, life-searching, and life-giving. It seems also that this deep joy is associated with – and might arise from - choosing what we start to grasp as the truth of our being - while sacrificing what is only apparently or temporarily (or perhaps selfishly) so. Meanwhile, however, all of this does not remove the sting and the pain of the act of sacrifice. And yet – at least within this temporal human condition – it seems that sacrifice is almost a necessary corollary, even an inevitable condition - for the pursuit of that deeper joy.

Paradoxical, isn’t it? Well, yes, just like Good Friday is the necessary, inevitable, paradoxical path and condition – for experiencing the joy of Resurrection; so much so, that there is no resurrection without the cross. And what is “resurrection”, if not the experience of the plenitude, fullness, and accomplishment of being? But more on these, later.

And, not to leave our initial reference to Mother Teresa somehow open-ended, and inconclusive – and to further explain my initial choice of using her picture – all of this might also reflect how, in Mother Teresa's case, her inner “dark night of the soul” (her inner sacrifice, suffering) became, when turning toward us, the image and the face of unconditional love and inexpressible joy – in a very real way, for so many of us!  But these are not easy things...

So let us conclude by remarking how the state of joy that we are investigating seems to be very different from, and utterly unlike, the easy, superficial state of “having a good time”, or of “being happy” - understood as self-centered satisfaction. Indeed, we see yet again that joy seems to be an essentially outward- and other-oriented state – perhaps because our very being is essentially dialogical, and open toward the other / the Other. Finally, it seems - again - that this state of joy corresponds to a living out of - with a living according to - the truth of our being.