As most of the world knows, last night the Oscars came to Hollywood.  For those who follow and enjoy such things, the parade of "celebrities" on the red carpet adorning the entrance to the auditorium prior to the ceremony was a veritable feast for the eyes.  One after another, the most famous stars of film passed by, smiling, waving, preening, displaying themselves for the adoring crowds.  All of them expect it, all of them know it is good for the movie business, and all of them know that this night is, for them and their successors, one of the most important evenings of the year.  They literally cannot afford to miss it.
     I've never been one to swoon over "celebrities."  I'm happy for them, happy that they found their vocational niche, and happy for them that they've been able to make a good, indeed a very good living from it.
     This notwithstanding, what I find interesting, even intriguing about the adulation some people heap upon these "celebrities" is the extent to which it represents, to me, a longing for heroes, for people to look up to, for people who have risen above the fray and who seemed to have found a happiness others do not have.
     But happiness, as so many of us know, is not something we find.  Happiness is what happens to us.  Happiness is what we experience when we have resolved not our vocational angst or material paucity but our innermost longings, our deep seated longings for meaning.  Our greatest heroes need not be those who are materially successful, but rather those who have been successful in matters of the heart, those who have found what the Hebrew Bible calls "integrity" and what Jesus calls "perfect," a completeness of body, spirit, and soul.  Happiness is grounded in the present necessity of God.