In Good Company On Being Moderately Happy

May 11, 2010

Let’s play word association. Here’s the word: temperance.

What words or images came to mind?

Cold. Crabby. Rules. Diets. Restrictions.

If you thought of a pinched old lady scowling and pounding a rolling pin into her fist at the thought of anyone having fun, you’re probably not alone.

Americans who know the word at all are likely to connect it with the Temperance movement, which succeeded in banning the demon rum and other spirits.

The Constitution’s Temperance amendment was blissfully temporary. However,  the negative connotation of the word has endured.

And it is a pity, because temperance is the cardinal virtue which makes it possible to enjoy life.

There is a virtue for every human action and situation – a habit of the heart and mind that helps us navigate the narrow path between defect on the one hand and excess on the other.

Temperance, or moderation if you prefer, (and I do think it’s a nicer word) is the virtue which governs pleasure. It regulates our use of the good things life has to offer in such a way that they truly contribute to our good.

Without moderation, we can’t really enjoy ourselves, or at least not for long. Without moderation, we cannot enjoy the perfect joy of liberty and we will certainly experience unpleasant consequences.

Now think about brownies, which is probably a more pleasant thought experiment. But if you are allergic to chocolate, think of strawberry ice cream.

One brownie is delicious…maybe even two. At some point, however, there is a diminishing return on the pleasure of eating a brownie. We feel sick. We enter sugar shock. We get fat. These negative consequences are the result of excess.

Another result of excess is the despoiling of our ability to truly enjoy a feast day such as Christmas, Easter or the Solemnity of St. Joseph.

When we dine luxuriously every day, or when we always have dessert, it’s hard to make a holiday meal stand out as special. This is part of the reason why the Church observes a cycle of fasts and feasts. This side of heaven, a never-ending feast becomes deeply boring.

Conversely, it is also a defect to be so abstemious that we can never permit ourselves a genuine pleasure on a fitting occasion. A brownie really is not “sinfully” delicious, unless we are eating it in gluttony or in defiance of Mama’s wishes. If the moment is right, it’s just delicious and not at all sinful.

Joy is the most attractive quality of a Christian. Of course, the deepest joy always springs from having the Spirit dwelling within our souls and having confidence in Christ’s mercy.

But it’s not just the afterlife that Christians are meant to enjoy. This life, even with its crosses and seasons of sorrow, is meant to be enjoyed. Life is for living, we might say.

In "The Virtue Driven Life," Fr. Benedict Groeschel says that we’re even meant to try to enjoy our daily tasks rather than resenting them.

“If you go to the supermarket, enjoy it. Don’t make it a drudgery. Talk to the cashier….Try to get to know people and make your passage through life more pleasurable.”

He adds: “If you are a private person and find it …somewhat difficult to speak to strangers, at least smile.”

The inability to enjoy life when we are not in the midst of genuine tragedy is worth examining.

Are we depressed and in need of medical help?

When we’re unhappy we often fall into a lack of moderation. We worry about our jobs, our marriages or our kids. Rather than dig deep within ourselves to identify the problem and address it in healthy fashion, we turn to food, sex, wine or TV. That is when it is time that we put down the chips or the remote control and go have a heart-to-heart with the spouse or the boss.

Perhaps we’re simply indulging the pleasures so much and so often we’ve made life boring for ourselves. In that case prayer and voluntary mortification can do wonders in restoring a sense of happiness and the ability to enjoy life again.

(Column continues below)

Moderate pleasures, it turns out, are the only kind there are.