When I heard that Amanda Held Opelt was writing a book about unhappiness, I had a kneejerk repulsion--probably because my mind hit on that oft used Evangelical maxim, "God doesn't care about your happiness, He cares about your holiness". I didn't think that Amanda would preach that cliche at me, I knew her writing better than that--but the topic still made me wary. Little did I know, Amanda would be deconstructing and reconstructing that very idea.
Amanda first comments on how we as a culture have forgotten how to be sad. "We don't know how to grieve or be angry," she writes. "We've marginalized unhappiness, removed it from our vocabulary." Immediately, I thought of her first book, which explored how different cultures grieve, and how the Irish concept of "keening" hit me emotionally. I know the power of music, the power of song when it feels like the world is falling apart, and combining emotional expression with songs to mourn and grieve...even now, the idea hits me hard. We have lost so much when we forgot how to mourn.
Another intriguing idea that Amanda explores is the concept of "emotional prosperity gospel"--an idea so insidious, I doubt most churches or Christians are even aware they partake in it. "To this day, Christians have a way of labeling negative emotions as unholy, insinuating that difficult feelings like fear, listlessness, anger, or anxiety are the result of a lack of trust in God." She mentions another oft taught maxim: "God gets ahold of us through the mind and intellect, and Satan gets ahold of us through the heart and emotions." It encourages a distrust of emotions that at its core, is a very sexist teaching.
Amanda's comment that "God, whose Spirit hovered over the waters of chaos, brought order to disorder.", her praise that God is a gardener, a grower of good things--it reminds me that the earliest recorded creation stories about God as a being who destroys a monster of chaos. There is something primally ancient about this fight with chaos that rings true.
Her musings about missing working for a landscaping company echoed my own feelings, when I miss working for a horse camp. Some of my fondest memories were little slices of summer, when keeping my stalls clear, my tack clean, and my horses happy were all that was expected of me. I miss the sting of sweat, how you could lose yourself in the physicality of mucking out a stall.
"Maybe our most powerful act of resistance to the curse is to plant a garden", Amanda wonders, immediately striking back to that Madeleine L'Engle quote about raising her children in the fear of the Cold War: "Planting onions that spring was an act of faith in the future for I was very fearful for our planet.”
Leaping from the "emotional prosperity gospel", which claims that we'll get all of the happy shiny feelings as Christians--Amanda delves into Katelyn Beaty's idea of "the sexual prosperity gospel". This is definitely something I grew up with--the idea that as long as you Do Not Have Sex Before Your Wedding Night, your sex life will be guaranteed perfect. God wants you to have a hot spouse and great sex, but only within the confines of marriage.
Neither prosperity ethic is what is promised in Christianity, despite what Evangelicalism promotes.
Something I love about Amanda's work and something I noticed in her previous book--there are little C.S. Lewis allusions sprinkled all throughout her theology. She refers to herself as a "daughter of Eve". So much of her thoughts on how Christianity was never promised comfort reminds me of that lovely C.S. Lewis quote from his collection of essays "God in the Dock", "I didn’t go to religion to make me happy. I always knew a bottle of Port would do that. If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity.” Amanda correctly worries, "My fear is that the nature of the Christian subculture has conditioned Jesus followers like me to believe one of the most subtle and insidious lies of the emotional prosperity gospel: the tacit believe that Christianity is above all safe, entertaining, and comfortable." I can't help but consider Lewis reminder that Aslan, the representation of God in his Narnia books, was "not a tame lion". When Susan asks Mr. Beaver if Aslan is "safe", Mr. Beaver scoffs at the question, "of course he isn't safe! But he is good." Amanda reiterates this idea, reminding us that "To follow Christ was not politically or financially advantageous. It was not safe by any stretch of the imagination." She directly quotes Lewis later, "He who has God and everything else has no more than he who has God only." and "hope is a theological virtue".
I met Rachel Held Evans for the first time in October of 2015. We met at a pub she visited after speaking at a church event downtown and I remember how nervous I felt, how excited I was to meet her, and how she complimented my sweater. But what I remember most was asking her something that has haunted my deconstruction/reconstruction. I asked if she missed Evangelicalism--the feelings of certainty, the high of moral superiority, the complete ironclad faith you had all the answers. She exclaimed, "Yes, every day!" and it was such a comfort. I was reminded of this moment when Amanda comments, "There is a feeling of security that comes with a custom-made Christian subculture". I felt a pang of longing for that sense of security. I will never have it again; I've since learned that my spiritual life will always be in the wilderness. But I miss having a shelter. Amanda chimes in with this, telling us frankly that "There are plenty of days that I miss my certainty. I am deeply homesick for it."
So much of Amanda's points on shame and the insidious concept of LACK truly hit home. The haunting feeling that "Some perfect version of myself and my life awaits me in the future, if only I can find it. If only I shape up." I blame this feeling on everything from my horoscope sign to my enneagram, but Amanda is right. "I cannot assume that the life I want is waiting for me just around the corner...Life is now. I am worn thin because I am offering myself to a million tiny, mundane, beautiful, and wholly necessary demands."
Amanda strikes a careful and necessary balance on conservative Christianity's overglorification of motherhood and capitalism's dismissal of motherhood. "There is absolutely dignity in diaper changing" and the idea of "love as a labor" seems jarring at first--labor does not seem like something we want in our life. But as Amanda reflected, there is beauty and dignity and worship in simple labor--something that connects and grounds.
One of her most intriguing explorations is on "holy hedonism"--the insistence that we savor and experience the world as God intended--with dignity. Her line "Delight in its holiest form is the antithesis of exploitation" as rang in my mind since the moment I finished. There is something gloriously powerful in the idea that God put us on earth to ENJOY it, not to simply endure it. "I've begun to think he saved me so I could savor the world, savor his saving of it."
Amanda speaks of her Evangelical upbringing with grace and kindness--and with a patience that I have yet to cultivate towards my own experience. I wryly wrote in my annotations "Raise your hand if you had this line used on you!" when Amanda remarked upon the "I'm feeling called to pursue you romantically" pickup line very popular in Evangelical adolescent and young adult circles. "I do not begrudge my experience growing up in that subculture" she explains, recognizing the harm Evangelicalism perpetrated against others, but how it blessed her. It's a grace and balance I've yet to be able to strike; I'm still licking my wounds.
I knew Amanda's words about the body would be good--I'm still reeling from her theology of grief and the body in her first book. Her words go beyond simply loving your body, she recognizes the inherent holiness of such an act. "To love a body that is in pain or a body that doesn't meet the world's standards of goodness is an act of defiance. It is an assertion of your own worth before God. I must respect my body--as God does--for its inherent value, not simply for its attractiveness of productivity." What a powerful reminder that our worth goes far beyond productivity. That no matter how broken my body is, it is still valuable.
"Every important movement of reformation was born of a holy indignation", Amanda reminds us that much of the Church's true strength is its ability to die and rise again, over and over and over again.
Unsurprisingly, Amanda's thoughts on suffering are profound. I'm thrust immediately into the image of God's fight against not evil, but chaos. The chaos that interrupts and disrupts our lives, those moments when we scream into the void, "why has this happened?! what was the reason?!" what is the story we can tell ourselves, to find some meaning within the chaos? But there is no reason. Amanda sadly notes, "Whatever gift was gained by the death of my sister, I would trade it in a million times over to have her back." She provides another gentle reminder that God is a griever, a man of sorrows. We have no answer to grief, just the knowledge that God is present and grieving alongside us.
I laugh and cry at Amanda's recollection of her "conversion"--small Rachel warning three-year-old Amanda about the fires of Hell--simply because I recall my oldest brother giving me the same dire warning when I was eight years old. So representative of Rachel and Amanda, respectively.
I can't help smiling when Amanda says, "...my prayer for us is that we would realize that real joy isn't a thing to be chased. Joy is what we get when we are chasing the right thing." simply because I just named my authorial newsletter..."Chasing Joy". The irony delights me but serves as an important reminder--on my wonderful journey chasing the things I love with no apology, just delight--to honor my grief, to delight in the ordinary, and let hope be a practice, not a feeling.
Amanda's book is an incredibly insightful meditation on the oft-touted prosperity gospels in modern Evangelicalism, happiness vs. joy, and what "wrestling for your blessing" truly means. She is careful, thorough, and thoughtful towards every perspective, even those that challenge her worldview. An excellent read that I highly recommend.