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Jim McCrory

The Happiness Evil Cannot Give

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Saturday 12 September 2026 at 08:25

The Creator has so inseparably interwoven the laws of eternal justice with the happiness of each individual, that the latter cannot be attained but by observing the former.”

English jurist William Blackstone

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The Happiness Evil Cannot Give

In my early morning today with the Word of God, I became fixed upon a single proverb:

“Evil men understand not judgment: but they that seek the LORD understand all things.” — Proverbs 28:5

My first instinct might easily have been the instinct of most of us: Well, I am not an evil man.

The word “evil” immediately summons people worse than ourselves. We think of the cruel, the violent, the corrupt and the obviously wicked. Whatever else Proverbs 28:5 might be saying, surely it is talking about them.

But perhaps that instinct itself should make us stop.

Psychologists speak of what is sometimes called the Lake Wobegon effect, named after Garrison Keillor’s fictional town where “all the children are above average.” Applied to ourselves, it describes our rather endearing—and sometimes dangerous—tendency to rate ourselves more favourably than is warranted. Most of us find it easier to recognise selfishness, prejudice, pride and questionable motives in other people than in ourselves.

Then we encounter the Hebrew word translated “evil” in Proverbs 28:5.

It is raʿ (רַע), a wonderfully uncomfortable little word. It can certainly describe what is wicked or evil, but its range is broader: that which is bad, harmful, disagreeable, morally wrong or injurious. Suddenly it becomes harder to keep the proverb at a comfortable distance.

The question is not simply, Am I an evil person. It is this: What is there within me that bends away from the good?

And now the proverb becomes intensely personal.

Its remarkable claim is that evil does not merely affect our behaviour; it affects our judgment. “Evil men understand not judgment.” The Hebrew word translated “judgment,” mishpat, carries the idea of justice, right judgment, what is fitting and what ought to be.

In other words, our moral condition affects our ability to see.

That is a profound observation about human nature. We like to imagine ourselves as detached judges of reality, calmly examining evidence and reaching rational conclusions. But human beings are not quite like that. Our reasoning travels in company with our desires. We are remarkably good at finding reasons for believing that the thing we want is also the thing we ought to have.

Greed can rename itself ambition. Pride can masquerade as self-respect. Resentment can call itself justice. Selfishness can present itself as freedom. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the moral compass moves.

And this matters enormously because we are all searching for essentially the same country. Namely, Happiness.

We may give it different names—peace, fulfilment, success, love, contentment—but behind so much human activity lies the hope that somewhere ahead there is a life worth having.

Here Proverbs 28:5 contains a warning of extraordinary importance. If evil distorts judgment, then evil may distort our understanding of happiness itself.

Imagine a traveller whose compass is gradually becoming unreliable. He desperately wants to reach home. He walks faster, works harder and covers enormous distances. His problem is not lack of sincerity or effort. His problem is that the instrument by which he determines direction is pointing away from his destination.

There is something like this in the relationship between goodness and happiness.

We may seek happiness through wealth and gradually become incapable of saying “enough.” We may seek it through admiration and become dependent upon the opinions of others. We may seek it through sexual gratification while damaging our capacity for faithful intimacy. We may seek freedom by avoiding obligation and eventually discover that the deepest friendships are built precisely upon loyalty, sacrifice and commitment.

Evil offers us the fruit while quietly taking an axe to the tree.

This is why goodness and happiness may be much more intimately connected than our culture sometimes imagines. Goodness is not merely the entrance fee God demands before allowing us to be happy. Goodness may describe the very kind of creature a human being must increasingly become in order to experience the deepest forms of happiness.

The grateful person can enjoy what he possesses. The generous person can delight in another’s flourishing. The humble person does not have to win every comparison. The forgiving person is gradually released from the exhausting task of carrying yesterday’s injuries. The faithful person can enter the extraordinary security of being deeply known and deeply trusted.

Virtue enlarges our capacity for certain kinds of joy.

And vice does the opposite.

Envy makes another person’s happiness painful to us. Greed makes “enough” perpetually inaccessible. Pride turns other people into competitors. Lust can turn persons into objects. Resentment permits someone who injured us years ago to continue occupying rooms within our hearts.

The terrible possibility is that evil does not merely prevent us from obtaining happiness. It can damage the person who must experience happiness.

And then comes the glorious second half of the proverb:

“But they that seek the LORD understand all things.”

Notice the word seek. It does not say that those who seek God already possess perfect understanding. They are travellers too. They can make mistakes, take wrong turns and misunderstand the landscape.

But their compass is continually being brought back to true north.

Perhaps this is one of the deepest lessons of Proverbs 28:5. In the great human race for happiness—indeed, for eternal happiness—the first question is not simply, How quickly am I travelling? Nor even, How happy do I feel at this moment?

The greater question is:

What direction am I becoming pointed in?

For if God is the source of goodness, truth, love and ultimately happiness itself, then seeking Him is not a diversion from the human search for happiness.

It is the recalibration of the compass by which we hope to find it.

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Jim McCrory

The One Who Began the Clock Ticking  

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The One Who Began the Clock Ticking

 

If you have been reading the earlier blogs, you may remember our reflections on the Fibonacci sequence—the remarkable mathematical patterns found throughout nature, from flowers and pinecones to the spirals of a pineapple.

You may also have encountered the Anthropic Principle: the observation that the universe appears to possess an extraordinarily precise set of conditions that allow life to exist at all. Then there is the moral law, that persistent sense that some things are genuinely right or wrong, regardless of what we might personally prefer. Try it out the next time you skip the queue in the supermarket.  

Taken together, these things raise an intriguing reality: perhaps we are more than a chance collection of molecules, pirouetting obediently to our DNA. Behind the mathematics, the finely balanced universe and our strange awareness of good and evil lies something deeper.

And that brings us to the larger question: Who is the Designer?

In Exodus 3:14, God makes one of the most astonishing statements in Scripture:

God said to Moses, “I AM WHO I AM.”

There is something breath-taking in those few words. God does not define Himself by reference to anything else. Everything else has existence; God simply is. It is a small but extraordinary doorway into the Christian understanding of God as the ground and source of all being.

The same thought appears in the opening words of Genesis:

“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.” — Genesis 1:1

Before matter, before human history, before the first ticking of any cosmic clock—God. The Bible begins without attempting to explain God's origin because creation has a beginning; the Creator does not.

Yet Scripture takes us somewhere even more remarkable. David looks into the vastness of the heavens and asks:

“What is man that You are mindful of him, or the son of man that You care for him?” — Psalm 8:4

This question gets me every time. David looks into that immense night sky and encounters a beautiful paradox. Against the scale of the universe, we appear almost unimaginably small, and yet we are told that we matter profoundly to God.

Christianity does not ask us to pretend that humanity is physically impressive beside galaxies and stars. It makes the far stranger claim that we are personally significant to their Creator.

David could scarcely get his head around it. I am not sure we can either.

And this takes us back to yesterday's blog, where I invited you to do something wonderfully simple: come and sit with the Creator.

Ask for knowledge. Ask for guidance. Ask for wisdom. Bring Him the questions that trouble you and the questions you are almost afraid to ask. Come sincerely, humbly and with deep respect.

Then listen.

For if the God who set the universe in motion is also the God who is mindful of you, it is conceivable that the greatest discovery is not simply that there may be a Designer behind creation.

It is that the Designer may want you to know Him.

 

 

Note: Scripture quotations: Berean Standard Bible (BSB), Public Domain.

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