Last Sunday, driving home from church I was listening to the TED radio hour. The featured speech was a reprise of one offered several years ago by social scientist Barry Schwartz on his book The Paradox of Choice. In the talk, he describes what he calls an “official dogma of western society,” namely, that to maximize freedom, our society must maximize choice, and if we maximize choice, then it follows that we will maximize happiness. He describes the plethora of choices we have in nearly every area of our excessively bountiful lives–from the 175 salad dressing options in a supermarket to the multitudes of cell phones and plans offered by many different carriers. He jokes in his talk, that with phones, the only limit in options is this: “If you go to the store to buy a phone and you ask the salesperson the question, ‘Is it possible for me to buy just a simple phone that really doesn’t do that much?’ the answer to that question is NO.”

His research showed that having no choices certainly does limit freedom and happiness, having a few choices enhances freedom and happiness, but, interestingly, having more and more choices does NOT make life proportionately happier and happier. In fact, what he found is that the reverse is true—having too many choices results in the inability to choose at all– as well as creating impossibly high expectations for a choice that inevitably will be disappointing.

And that was the part I found the very most interesting about Schwartz’s talk–not so much the difficulty in making choices–because as a perceiving type on the Myers-Briggs that is sort of my reality all the time even if I only have a few choices–but rather, the question of the resulting level of happiness. What is going on in our culture when there seems to be so much pressure to choose “happiness” as defined by the marketplace, just as so much dissatisfaction seems to be afoot. And even with all those choices, that vague ennui persists– 125 different kinds of shampoo… “is that all there is?” Schwartz’s ideas really made me ponder the spiritual side of choice as it relates to privilege. Expectations I have of what I consider “my due” seem to be related to the level of my privilege. And I think it is easy sometimes for those of us in the majority culture to assume casual and entitled expectations while also being oblivious to the very different realities of others that don’t include equal access or choice. Spiritually speaking, such attitudes of entitlement seem to be the opposite of what Jesus describes in the Sermon on the Mount as “blessed”—attitudes that are poor in spirit, merciful, concerned with justice, peace-making. How do we make it possible for all of us to be able to choose joy?

Consider this: In this story from Nehemiah, the people of Israel have returned from exile and the prophet Ezra gathers them in one place for assessment of their situation and beginning the new way forward. He reminds them of God’s faithfulness and of their unfortunate tendency to turn away from all they know of obedience to the law. Wars and suffering and exile from their land have been endured and endured and at long last, now it all has come to an end and they stand at a hopeful place. The city and the temple are about to be rebuilt–all that has been broken will be restored. But when they hear the story of what has happened, of all the suffering and injustices that have been caused by others and by their own actions, they begin to cry and grieve their past. It makes me think of the need for reparation and rebuilding today—both in our individual lives and in our culture. The grief at what has been done and the losses that have resulted must be experienced and expressed and then followed by realization, clarity, and change–individual and systemic. Making amends is the first step and then there are other steps, complex and lasting. In the story, the people are having a hard time getting past the wrongs and on to the next right steps. They continue to weep until Ezra says, “enough already! You must move on, rebuild, start again.” And then he adds, “Remember, the joy of the Lord is your strength.”

What does that phrase mean, “the joy of the Lord is my strength.” Or, in language that may fit more appropriately for you, maybe, the joy of life? What does it mean, in the daily grind, in life as it is, what does it mean to choose joy–the joy of life that is our strength?

I do believe joy is often a choice. The old adage that says, “whatever we nurture in our lives grows,” is true. When I focus on negativity and sorrow, then that is what grows in my life, and not in a magical thinking kind of way, but really— what we believe is what we see. But also, it is true that for many persons who struggle daily just to survive because of pain, depression, discrimination, poverty, violence, and a hundred other challenges, they would choose joy if they only could and the playing field is not at all level. “Don’t worry, be happy” is a catchy little sentence, but it can wound, as well, if from a place of privilege or ease it is bandied about with little insight or empathy.

Here is how I understand the message of this Scripture, and the way that I think we can consciously and intentionally choose joy in a way that is genuine and acknowledges the realities that are not happy all around us. For me, choosing joy is often a process that involves the steps outlined in the story. The people recall the past and learn from it. There is acknowledgement and grieving. They are encouraged to rebuild together all that is broken, and they are reminded that in the strength and joy found in beginning again in unity is the creation of a new future together. This is what the process of rediscovering the joy of life can look like for us, it seems to me–without rushing through any one of the steps. And so some of my summer spiritual work will focus on these three ideas that I think will help me—and perhaps you too, to choose joy– even in the broken and challenging places: I plan to acknowledge the past with its bane and blessing, to be willing to seek support and help from wise communities where I can learn more and more and find strength, and rebuild in joy. And I will practice using the little mantra—the joy of life will be my strength. Rediscovering joy can help us maintain resiliency and hope as individuals and when the hard times come, we can rely on healthy and equitable community and offer it to one another when some of us feel weak and when some of us are strong.

That’s part of why it’s a great idea to join this church–we can rely on each other. And in addition, when we join together in the process of learning to do justice in the world—racially, economically, and environmentally–then the wisdom and our efforts are multiplied.

Learning to choose joy in such a world as ours when we might as easily choose exhaustion, anger, discouragement, or complacency may sometimes feel like just one more pressurized choice, sort of like trying to pick out just one pair of new blue jeans in a giant warehouse full of so many choices–choosing between boot cut, acid-washed, skinny, relaxed fit, or mom jeans. Don’t choose mom jeans—choose joy! When faced with so many realities and ways to experience them, choosing joy may take a long time or feel impossible. My experience, too, has been that, though joy sometimes is a choice, it is also often a mystery. Sometimes, even when choices are overwhelming or limited, joy just shows up and fills us like a drink of refreshing water.

After the runaway success of his song “Happy” that the choir sang for us, Pharrell Williams was asked about how he created it. He smiled and shook his head as he described the pressure of creating the right song for this movie as his well of creativity and resilience felt dry and empty. He said, “I created about nine different full songs, trying to get that scene right before I arrived at ‘Happy.’ I went through everything I thought was possible given all that I understood and what I thought the people needed to experience, and none of it was working. It was only when I was tapped out that I asked myself the fundamental question: when I sing a song that is happy, what is that like? I realized that what I needed was right there. That’s where ‘Happy’ came from. When I was empty and open. It was just a crazy half-court shot. It came to me when I was literally out of options.”

And so joy often comes to us–as a choice and mysteriously, as a gift. Kahlil Gibran says in The Prophet that it is also a sister to Sorrow. He writes, “Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.

And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.

And how else can it be?

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.”

May this summer be the time when you rediscover the paradox and blessing of sorrow and of joy. And when you can, may you choose joy. And when you feel you cannot, may the joy that comes to you as mysterious gift be your strength. Amen.