A common argument against religion is that it doesn't work. By that critics usually mean that religion does not guarantee happiness, or even comfort, in times of distress. Strange as it may seem, those who have firm faith often tell us that religion is not meant to bring happiness.
Baron Von Heugel, an outstanding Roman Catholic theologian-philosopher wrote, "Religion has never made me happy: it's no use shutting your eyes to the fact that the deeper you go the more alone you will find yourself".
Hinduism sometimes seems to suggest that unhappiness is inevitable. The Gita says the world is "the abode of sorrow" and Ramana Maharshi described the world as "a wild and terrible forest" and a "prison".
However, there is so much beauty for which we should give thanks. I am often so struck by the majesty of the Himalayas, the serenity of a sunset over the Indian Ocean, and the uncountable stars in a clear night sky, that I am overcome by the realisation of how small I am.
At the same time I feel part of something infinitely large. This is a comforting experience because it puts my ego in place, silences my self-importance, yet does not tell me I am of no importance.
I become aware that, as the poet Gerard Manley Hopkins said, "The world is charged with the grandeur of God". There is also so much which is closer to home that we should give thanks for — family, friends, and of course food, the arts, and achievements of science and technology, too. There is the gift of life itself, without which we could not enjoy all that has been given to us.
But life is not always enjoyable and God does not necessarily comfort us in bad times. There are times when we suffer apparently through no fault of our own and we can't understand how a God who should be comforting us is inflicting such suffering on us.
There are also times when we are convinced that God can't possibly want to have anything to do with us, the times when we are thoroughly ashamed of ourselves.
Perhaps the answer to the riddle of unhappiness lies in the unfashionable virtue of humility, but a balanced humility, which represses self-esteem without falling into the miserable state of self-hatred that is responsible for so much depression these days.
Humility teaches that we can never fully understand the ways of God, that he never gives us certainty. As Welsh poet R S Thomas put it, to have faith we have to live "somewhere between doubt and certainty".
We can never have the comfort of certainty about the ways of God, nor precise answers to the question "Why is this happening?"
But we can have deep within us faith to see us through times when there doesn't seem anything to be grateful for.
When suffering a severe illness, and believing she was dying, mediaeval mystic Julian of Norwich had a vision in which she was assured that "all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well".
They were. If we have the faith to believe all things shall be well even when at the time they are far from well we will find that religion does work, that God does not desert us.