The Pain of Some Else's Joy

When I went to college, I was assigned to a dorm room with three roommates. Two of these joined a fraternity within the first two weeks of school so I was able to enjoy a relatively large suite with just one other person. His name was Mike.

Mike was from a small rural community in the Southwestern part of the state of Iowa. He had a sister and played football. He had a decent sense of humor and was actually the valedictorian of his graduating class. All in all, Mike was a good, randomly assigned roommate. While he was not my closest friend at college, we did a lot together and by and large got along quite well--except for one thing.

As the year progressed, I began to notice that Mike had a terribly hard time celebrating anything good that might happen to somebody else. Worse yet, there was a disturbing joy that came upon him when bad things would happen to others, especially me.

I had never seen anything quite like it. Mike's emotional state seemed to be inversely related to the people around him. Generally, he was low key and not particularly responsive. He could sit through an entire meal without saying a word. However, if I entered the room with a broken arm or even a particularly poor grade, it was like party-time for this guy. Although I have yet to meet anyone else who's joy was quite so dependent upon the misfortune of others, I have encountered lesser degrees of this affliction. I cannot really explain it, although I am sure that it is more common than I realize.

It turned out that Mike flunked out of his freshman year of college. It wasn't because he couldn't do the work. He was, after all, the valedictorian of his high school class. It was rather that as the year wore on, Mike spent more and more time in our dorm room and less and less time attending class. I would come home from the library or from watching MASH in the commons and Mike would be sitting at his desk drinking a six-pack all by himself.

I honestly felt bad for him. I did not find the joy in his suffering that he seemed to find in mine. But ultimately I could not break through. I heard that he transferred to another school and I am sure that he eventually graduated. I hope that he is doing well. I hope that he is still alive.

We still hear that ongoing debate--do we live in a world of scarcity or a world of abundance? Is there enough for all? Or does it really come down to us or them... yours or mine...

My experience that year in the dorm taught me something about myself. I've got all kinds of weaknesses for sure but I just can't bring myself to celebrate misfortune. I just can't believe that God has created a world where there is only so much blessing to go around.