Pursuit of Happiness

For all the gods of the peoples are worthless idols, but the LORD made the heavens. (Psalm 96:5)

On Reddit, there’s a subreddit called whatisthisthing. In this community, people post photos of objects they’ve found but can’t identify. Many items are quite interesting and puzzling—until someone offers an explanation. For instance, one user shared a picture of a hard, egg-shaped object found on a beach with the word “Maxer” written on it. Eventually, someone identified it as an egg surrogate. Chickens sometimes become moody and break their own eggs, but when real eggs are replaced with these surrogates, the chicken is tricked into thinking she’s still sitting on her eggs and stops destroying them. Another user posted a photo of a small “room” near the peak of an old barn. It had no apparent entrance and seemed mysterious. Someone explained it was a nesting area for barn owls—non-destructive birds that help by feeding on rodents.

These examples illustrate a broader truth: to correctly identify something, you have to know what it’s made for. Without understanding an object’s purpose, it’s hard to define what it truly is. The same principle applies to human beings. To understand what a human is, we must ask: what is a human being made for? Some believe humans are nothing more than the accidental byproduct of blind evolutionary forces. If that’s true, then life has no inherent purpose. But only the most dedicated atheists seem truly content with that conclusion. Most people, whether they admit it or not, still yearn to understand why we’re here. Some philosophers argue that the phrase “the meaning of life” is fundamentally flawed—that the words “meaning” and “life” don’t belong together. But this is like telling a crying baby, “You don’t need your mother. You don’t need milk. Just stop crying.” Regardless of how clever the argument may be, our longing for meaning is real. We don’t stop searching just because someone claims the search itself is invalid.

In his work Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle described happiness as the ultimate goal of human life. He began by distinguishing between actions and goals. Most things we do are for the sake of something else. We earn money, for example, not for the sake of having money, but to use it for other things. But happiness, Aristotle said, is different—it’s something we desire for its own sake. Therefore, it stands as the highest good and ultimate purpose of life.

The Greek word Aristotle used for happiness is eudaimonia, which comes from eu (good) and daimon (divinity or spirit). This implies that happiness is something granted by divine favor, a gift of goodwill from the gods. That idea differs sharply from how modern people see happiness. For us, happiness is not something given—it’s something we fight for, something we earn. Like Chris Gardner in The Pursuit of Happyness, we feel the need to chase happiness through struggle and perseverance so we can one day look back, like Frank Sinatra, and say, “I faced it all, and I stood tall—and did it my way.”

In the modern view, happiness is not just a goal—it’s a validation of our independence and determination. The thought of receiving it passively almost offends us. But in the past, happiness was largely viewed as something granted, not seized. Even the English word “happy” comes from hap, meaning “luck” or “fortune.” In German, the word Glück means both “luck” and “happiness.” So historically, to be happy was to be fortunate. But that’s not how we think today. We plan for happiness. We build systems and strategies to achieve it. Our pursuit is so intense that Bertrand Russell once described it as “the conquest of happiness.”

Money

Today, nearly everyone agrees that two things are essential for happiness: money and love. Let’s think about them, starting with money.

Money is the condensed form of value. Everything in life has some kind of value, but money captures that value in a form that can be stored, measured, and exchanged. It’s useful because it’s easy to handle—much like sugar, which contains calories in a readily usable form. This simplicity and efficiency make money incredibly attractive.

Christianity has historically held two different attitudes toward money. In traditional Catholic teaching, poverty is considered a virtue. Alongside chastity and humility, it’s seen as a mark of spiritual devotion. In this tradition, living without money—voluntarily or otherwise—has been regarded as a path to holiness. On the other hand, as sociologist Max Weber pointed out, Protestants tend to view money more positively. John Wesley, one of Methodism’s founders, famously summarized this approach: “Earn all you can, save all you can, give all you can.” Most Protestants believe that as long as wealth is used for God’s glory, it isn’t something to be ashamed of.

Yet both approaches have their problems. I grew up in South Korea, a poor country that became wealthy in my lifetime. I remember what it was like to live in poverty. In the past, South Korea faced countless problems: political oppression, corruption, underdeveloped infrastructure, and lack of access to education and healthcare. But as the economy grew, many of these problems were resolved or eased (though new issues, like rising mental health challenges, have emerged).

Most poor countries experience similar problems: political instability, systemic corruption, children unable to attend school, and people dying from treatable illnesses. Poverty often obstructs human development. That’s why missionaries frequently engage in economic development work. Poverty can be a spiritual snare—causing people to compromise, steal, lie, or neglect their families. Desperate people are more likely to take desperate risks. While poverty can be an act of devotion in certain contexts, it can also trap people in a cycle of suffering.

That said, few people today willingly embrace poverty. Most want to earn more—and quickly. They’re fascinated by stories of people who got rich overnight, whether through lottery wins, investing in tech startups in the 1990s, or jumping into cryptocurrency today. This hunger for rapid wealth often leads people into scams or risky ventures. Even ordinary economic pursuits are filled with stress. Business owners face constant pressure, risks, and tough decisions. In the midst of chasing wealth, it’s easy to lose sight of God. That’s why Paul offered a strong warning:

“For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evils. It is through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pangs.” (1 Timothy 6:10)

Capitalism is a system powered by desire. If people stop wanting more, the economy stalls. So we’re encouraged to constantly crave—new phones, bigger houses, faster cars. Advertisements whisper these desires into our minds every day, convincing us that we need more, and then even more than that. And once we believe it, we realize that to get those things, we need more money. This, Paul says, is how we end up pierced with “many pangs.”

The Benefits and Limits of Money

Despite its dangers, money is appealing for several reasons. First, it provides small pleasures. If you expect money to bring great joy, you’ll likely be disappointed. Deep pleasures often come with pain. As Socrates observed in Phaedo, “Pleasure and pain are joined together at a single head.” Overindulgence in things like food, alcohol, or drugs leads to suffering. But money can buy smaller joys—a good cup of coffee, a stylish outfit, or a new phone. These things may not be life-changing, but they’re enjoyable all the same.

Second, money solves small problems. When you’re poor, even little things can feel overwhelming. In Vittorio De Sica’s film Bicycle Thieves, a man’s bicycle is stolen. Since his job depends on that bike, losing it puts his whole family at risk of poverty. It’s a crisis. For a poor person, anything can turn into a crisis if they don’t have enough money. I once had a friend who couldn’t join a gift exchange event because he didn’t have enough money to buy a small gift. What should’ve been a fun activity became a source of shame. I also remember times when I didn’t have enough money to eat properly. One day, I rode in a van to the supermarket with a group. I joined them just for fun, without any money to buy anything. I hadn’t realized I would need to pay fifty cents for the ride. Embarrassed and unable to pay, I got out and walked home. That kind of discomfort could’ve been avoided with just a little bit of money. When you’re in such a situation, the saying “money answers everything” (Ecclesiastes 10:19) can certainly feel true.

Third, money brings happiness—if you’re poor. When you have very little, money really does improve your quality of life. But once you’re used to having enough, the joy fades. It’s well known that once income hits a certain threshold (around $75,000 to $100,000 per year), increased income doesn’t bring increased happiness. In wealthy countries, people aren’t happy just because they’re rich—it’s normal for them. In fact, they often worry about losing what they have. For them, money becomes a source of anxiety rather than joy.

Money also has clear limitations in some of life’s most important areas. First, it can’t guarantee good relationships. As The Beatles put it, “money can’t buy me love.” Sure, some women are attracted to wealth, but that’s an overly simplistic way to view relationships. Even if someone loves you for your money, there’s no guarantee the love will last. When it comes to your children, money helps even less. You may assume your children will be grateful for your financial support, but that’s often not the case. Love can’t be bought.

Second, money can’t guarantee good health or longevity. It may help you access better medical care, and statistics do show that wealthier people live longer. For example, Monaco, a country of millionaires, has one of the highest life expectancies. But money isn’t a cure-all. Rich people still die young from accidents or disease, and no amount of wealth can stop that.

Third, money has limited power in legal matters. A good lawyer might cost a fortune, but that doesn’t guarantee you’ll stay out of jail. Ideally, the law is supposed to be impartial—treating the rich and the poor the same. In court, money can’t protect you from the legal consequences of your actions.

So while money is useful and can make life more comfortable, it isn’t all-powerful. It can’t buy what really matters. Yet being wealthy isn’t inherently wrong. Paul didn’t tell rich people to give away everything. Instead, he told them how to live well with their wealth:

“As for the rich in this present age, charge them not to be haughty, nor to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but on God, who richly provides us with everything to enjoy. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share, thus storing up treasure for themselves as a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is truly life.” (1 Timothy 6:17–19)

First, rich Christians should avoid arrogance. Many wealthy people believe their opinions matter more just because they have money. But Paul warns against this attitude. Second, they shouldn’t put their trust in wealth, because riches are unstable. As Eugene Peterson paraphrased in The Message, money is “here today and gone tomorrow.” Our hope should be in God, who generously provides all things for our enjoyment. Finally, the rich should be generous. Their wealth is a gift meant to bless others. I know several Christians who do this well—supporting missions, funding ministries, and helping those in need. They play an essential role in God’s work in the world.

Love

Another major thing people seek in their pursuit of happiness is love—especially romantic love. C.S. Lewis noted that our modern idea of romantic love largely traces back to the courtly love tradition of twelfth-century France. Before that time, love was often seen either as a dangerous madness—something that drove otherwise sensible people, especially women, into crime and disgrace, as with the tragic figures of Medea or Dido—or as a light, humorous diversion, as portrayed in the works of Ovid. It wasn’t considered a central or noble part of life. But in medieval Europe, this view began to change. Troubadour poets in southern France began to sing about a different kind of love—idealized, passionate, and noble. This courtly love elevated romantic longing to something beautiful and even spiritual. Over time, it profoundly shaped Western culture’s understanding of love.

In modern times, love has grown even more powerful in the popular imagination, especially once it became associated with marriage. For much of human history, marriage was primarily a family affair. Partners were chosen based on family interests, not personal feelings. In fact, in pre-modern Korea, couples saw each other for the first time on their wedding day. But in the eighteenth century, with the rise of individualism in the West, people began choosing spouses based on personal emotion and romantic attraction. Today, we live in a world where love is not just valued—it’s idolized. People say they “love to love” and genuinely believe that if they can just find true love, nothing else will matter. Love, in this cultural context, becomes the highest possible good.

So why is love so compelling to us? First, because it’s closely tied to our God-given purpose. In Genesis, God commands humans to “be fruitful and multiply.” To fulfill that command, one must have a partner—and romantic love often precedes that partnership. Love draws us into the kind of union that makes fruitfulness possible.

Second, love reveals something about God. Scripture says:

“So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.” (Genesis 1:27)

This passage doesn’t just say individuals are made in God’s image—it points to male and female together as reflecting that image. Men and women together represent God more fully than either alone. Since each of us is either male or female, we experience only one side of that image on our own. But when we unite with someone of the opposite sex, we gain access to the other side. In that union, we glimpse and experience a more complete picture of God. This, more than anything else, explains the allure of romantic love: it connects us with something divine.

Evolution of Love

For those who don’t believe in God, evolutionary psychology offers a different explanation for the power of love. According to this theory, we are biologically hardwired to be attracted to certain traits in the opposite sex because those traits helped our ancestors successfully reproduce. Take, for example, a man who is only attracted to women beyond childbearing age. From a genetic standpoint, such preferences would not be passed on because those women couldn’t have children. In contrast, men who were drawn to young, healthy, and fertile women were more likely to pass on their genes. So men are descended from those who preferred youth and beauty—traits associated with fertility and health. That’s why men are usually attracted to young and beautiful women—it’s an instinctive signal that echoes a successful evolutionary strategy.

For women, the evolutionary pattern looks a bit different. Women who were attracted to incompetent or emotionally unavailable men likely struggled to survive or raise children. On the other hand, women who preferred competent, sensitive, and reliable partners were more likely to be supported, cared for, and able to raise children successfully. So we are biologically programmed to seek certain qualities in a partner, and when we find them, we feel joy. That joy—the sense of being in love—is an evolutionary reward.

So whether you see it as divine design or evolutionary programming, one thing is clear: we love to love. Not only do we seek love in real life, but we also consume endless stories about it in films and television. Popular movies and TV shows often reflect our fantasies. Take Notting Hill, for example—a male fantasy about an ordinary man who meets a glamorous movie star by chance, only to have her fall deeply and unconditionally in love with him. Similarly, The Big Bang Theory shows socially awkward nerds finding affectionate, understanding partners who adore them. In How I Met Your Mother, the main character ultimately realizes that his true love is the best friend who’s been there all along. And Friends revolves around a tight-knit group of six people, four of whom end up marrying each other. These shows and movies resonate with us not because they mirror reality, but because they portray what we wish would happen. While finding real love can be difficult, these fictional worlds offer us a glimpse of what we long for. And even if we don’t experience it ourselves, we find joy and comfort in watching others find it—at least on screen.

Allure of Money and Love

In Greek mythology, there is a story about Paris, a prince of Troy, who was asked to choose the fairest among three goddesses. Each goddess offered him something in return: power, wisdom, and love. Paris chose the one who promised love—Aphrodite, the goddess of love. His choice is telling. It suggests that, when given the option, people tend to value love more than power or wisdom.

Aphrodite was worshiped across the Mediterranean. She was known as Aphrodite in Greece, Venus in Rome, and Ishtar in Mesopotamia. In Canaan, she was called Ashtaroth. The Bible records that once Joshua died, “the people of Israel did what was evil in the sight of the LORD and served the Baals. And they abandoned the LORD, the God of their fathers, who had brought them out of the land of Egypt. They went after other gods, from among the gods of the peoples who were around them, and bowed down to them. And they provoked the LORD to anger. They abandoned the LORD and served the Baals and the Ashtaroth” (Judges 2:11–13). Israel, called to bring God’s light to Canaan, instead became influenced by Canaanite religion and began worshiping their gods. Baal was a storm god associated with fertility, promising wealth through good harvests. Ashtaroth, goddess of love, promised romantic and sexual satisfaction. The allure was strong: worship these gods, and you gain wealth and pleasure.

Is it any different today? Modern society still holds out the same promises. If you follow its ways—if you worship the “god of this world”—you’ll be rewarded with money and sex. The appeal hasn’t changed; only the packaging has.

Animism is one form of religion that captures this promise directly. It’s simple and direct: it uses idols to represent gods in nature, and through those gods, people seek wealth, pleasure, and protection. When Paul systematically explained the gospel in his letter to the Romans, he began by confronting the idolatry of animism:

“Claiming to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling mortal man and birds and animals and creeping things.” (Romans 1:22–23)

N.T. Wright argues that this passage reveals idolatry as the fundamental human sin. Idolatry is found in every culture throughout history. Why? Because it’s a distortion of something originally good. Paul writes, “For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made” (Romans 1:20). God revealed himself through nature, intending that people would see the majesty of creation and seek the Creator. But instead of worshiping God, they worshiped the creation itself. They made idols “resembling mortal man and birds and animals and creeping things.”

Gods of This World

James Frazer, author of The Golden Bough, explained two principles of primitive magic: the law of similarity and the law of contagion. The law of similarity says that “like produces like”—imitating an effect can supposedly produce the effect. For example, a Korean folk belief says pregnant women shouldn’t eat chicken or their babies might have rough skin. The law of contagion says that once two things have been in contact, they continue to influence each other—hence why people cast spells using hair or fingernails.

Animism goes by many names. When it includes many gods, we call it polytheism. When it’s practiced by ordinary people in traditional cultures, we call it folk religion. When practiced outside the Judeo-Christian world, we call it paganism. But since all these forms involve a belief in spirits animating nature, we’ll use the term animism.

Even today, many animistic practices are part of our lives, though we don’t always recognize them. The days of the week are named after gods of animism—Thursday comes from Thor, and the Italian Giovedì (also Thursday) comes from Jupiter. The Christmas tree, though now a holiday staple, comes from tree worship. The Bible never associates Christmas with a tree, but because tree worship was so widespread, it influenced Christian tradition.

The New Age movement is today’s spiritual marketplace for animism. It blends everything from Hinduism and traditional European magic to yoga, alternative medicine, and meditation. It’s appealing because it draws deeply from animism, which continues to exert a powerful influence over the human soul.

Because animism focuses on gaining good things in this life, it often includes methods of fortune-telling. If you know the future, you can avoid disaster or seize an opportunity. Astrology is a classic example. It teaches that stars, as higher beings, influence human destiny. Shakespeare reflected this belief in Romeo and Juliet when he called them “star-cross’d lovers.” The idea is ancient but still alive. People read horoscopes in newspapers and online. Some use zodiac signs to understand personalities or test romantic compatibility. Augustine, living in a time when astrology was widely accepted, strongly opposed it. He challenged the idea by asking: if twins are born under the same star, why do their lives often turn out so differently? He also criticized astrology for undermining moral responsibility—it made people feel as if their actions were determined by the stars, not by choice.

Ancestor worship, especially common in East Asian cultures, is another form of animism. Ancestors are treated almost like gods. People offer food to them to receive blessings. This structure—offering food in exchange for favor—is classic animism. Confucianism incorporated it into a more philosophical system, but the roots remain the same.

Happy and Blessed

The deepest contrast between animism and Christianity lies in the ultimate goal. Animism exists for humans—its gods are tools to bring people prosperity, love, safety, and health. Christianity, by contrast, exists for God. Its purpose is not human comfort but divine glory. Many people confuse this. They think Christianity is a way to gain blessings. They believe that if they give to God—or more often, to the church or a pastor—then God will reward them with money, healing, or relationships. But that’s not the gospel.

The gospel tells us that following God may mean poverty, persecution, or even death. Jesus never said, “Follow me and you’ll be happy.” Instead, he taught what it means to be truly blessed. And his list was shocking:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. 

Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. 

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied… 

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 5:3–10)

These don’t sound like happy people. Yet according to Jesus, they are the ones who are truly blessed. They may not be successful by worldly standards, but they are part of God’s kingdom—and that alone makes them blessed.

There is a profound paradox here: the pursuit of happiness rarely brings happiness. Instead, those who live faithfully—who serve others, who give, who sacrifice—often find themselves genuinely happy. In today’s world, happiness has become the basis for every decision. If something promises happiness, we do it. If it threatens our comfort, we avoid it. That’s why many avoid marriage or children. They fear the cost in freedom, money, and time. But do they become happier without these things? Often, no. Many discover that their childless, self-directed lives feel lonely and hollow.

Meanwhile, those who embrace the difficult path of family often discover deep joy. Ask parents, and many will say, “Having children is the best experience of life.” Of course, parenting is hard. It means late nights, hospital visits, arguments, and endless expenses. But in obeying God’s command to “Be fruitful and multiply” (Genesis 1:28), they find blessing. Even those who don’t consciously think of God experience the joy that comes from participating in his design. In the hardship of parenthood, they are blessed—and in that blessing, they find happiness.

I remember when I joined the Christian organization I still serve with. My grandfather, a pastor but also a practical man, warned me, “You’re trying to do something that only rich kids in America can afford.” He wasn’t wrong. Our organization doesn’t offer salaries. If you don’t come from wealth, life as an unpaid Christian worker is extremely difficult. At that time, my family was struggling financially and couldn’t support me. I was often hungry. I remember skipping meals, having no money for food. Things are better now, but I still earn less than minimum wage. And yet, I have no regrets. I chose to serve God in response to his call, and I feel deeply loved and used by him. When I die, I will not regret serving God. I will only be grateful for the chance to serve him.

When Thomas Jefferson and the other Founding Fathers of the United States declared “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” as inalienable rights, they believed happiness was something to be chased and earned. But after more than two centuries, it seems the pursuit of happiness has made many people less happy.

True happiness cannot be grasped—it must be received. Jesus said:

“For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” (Matthew 16:25)

In the same way, those who chase happiness never find it. But those who give up that pursuit, who live for God instead of themselves, often discover that happiness has come to them—quietly, unexpectedly, and as a gift.