“Have the courage to be happy”featured
A couple weeks ago, I read this article by a man whose brother was at the Istanbul airport during the attack several weeks ago. As I read the short text message from the author’s brother, I realized how many times, in how many circumstances, I have already crafted *the* text. The one to send to those I love most when there’s no more time. The one we all hope to never send and at the same time pray we have a chance to send.
We live in a world where we’re constantly warned against attending public functions and spending time in public spaces. Not to mention the constant warnings against travel. And I can’t pretend that I’m immune to the pull of fear. I worried about attending a Christmas tree lighting ceremony in Chicago. I worried about plans we had to be in DC for the fourth of July. I worry when we walk onto planes. I worry during waits in the airport. These worries are exhausting, but they’re fleeting, and I have worked hard to keep them at bay. What I worry about most is the kind of world we’re creating when fear keeps us from being near each other or tells us not to trust each other. To withdraw into our communities or ourselves and shut others out to remove the possibility of harm. When every decision to reach out is tethered by a report or incident that makes me hesitate and want to retreat.
Then I read Pope Francis’ simple, brilliant message for World Youth Day: “have the courage to be happy” [full message]. Someday perhaps I will cease to be shocked at how deeply grateful I am for his leadership and example of peace and unity in a world that seems increasingly fractured and distrustful. Today was not that day.
It takes courage to be happy. It takes courage to reject the overwhelming narrative. To hear over the noise of casualties and allegiances the steady constant of people opening homes and sharing rides. To view people as people and not as threats. To realize that our security, even if it is actually threatened, is not more important than someone else’s life. It takes courage to tell our children that flowers are more powerful than guns. And to believe ourselves that what we’re saying is true.
Happiness and love are not chances of happenstance. They are constant, intentional choices. And the more often we practice choosing love and happiness, the more often we reject fear, the more likely it will be that when faced with the worst, we will be the Spanish couple who opened their door to shelter strangers in the middle of an attack. Because that world isn’t only the world I want to live in; it’s the one I want to help create.
