How much fun should I be having?

Is the Christian to be serious or comedic?

One of the 20th century's most renowned philosophers, Ludwig Wittgenstein, said “I don’t know why we are here, but I’m pretty sure it’s not to enjoy ourselves.” This comedic line not only presents an agnostic view of purpose, but also understands “enjoyment” as something of little cosmic value. Indeed, Wittgenstein’s three brothers each committed suicide and the philosopher himself struggled with the same temptation throughout his life. If you google Wittgenstein’s well-known quote today, you will find the majority of comments disagree with him. Rather, many take a more hedonistic line to the purposelessness of life under the sun. Here, the logic goes “I don’t know why I am here, therefore I will seek out as much fun and pleasure as I can.” You will find flashy quotes such as : “life is a miracle, live it well” or “you only live once” or “live in the moment” or “life is too short to not spend it doing what makes you happy.” I’m not suggesting these are necessarily bad reasonings, but they are ultimately shallow and unsatisfying answers to my question: how much fun should I be having?

As a believing Christian with a strong conviction about the purpose of life and death I can not, in good conscience, pursue either of the above extremes. I know “fun” has a role to play in my purpose, but I also know I can’t possibly value everything in life off of how much selfish pleasure I get from it; I can not pursue fun for fun’s sake. The goalpost here is beautifully stated in the first question of the Westminster Shorter Catechism:

Q1: What is the chief end of man?

A1: Man’s chief end is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.

As positive as the above line sounds, it can’t be summarized as a mere injunction to “be happy.” Surely, that would be failing to glorify God by failing to take seriously the need for sorrow leading to repentance, or compassion leading to active care toward the deep wounds surrounding us. Even in my Church’s prayer meeting this morning, the reflection of tornadoes in Mississippi, chronic illness for a loved one, and a particularly dreadful school shooting reminded everyone of the death, illness, and destruction we live so close to. Yet, despite this, I happened to be in a fine mood as far as my own life was concerned. I had the desire, perhaps wrongly, to crack a few jokes in a perhaps shallow expression of my current good humor. 

I suppose I’m so interested in this question of fun, in part, because my level of fun and enjoyment often seems to be a choice. When I get up in the morning there is usually a short amount of time in which I can, to some extent, choose my mood for the day. I decide which side of the bed I will wake up on. 

A part of me wants to make light of the day, seek out laughter, and generally have “a good time.” After all, I have much to be grateful for. Another part of me wants to put myself on solemn mission, seeking the hard work in order to make a mark for the kingdom and push forward the Gospel through tireless strenuous effort. Here, the day is an opportunity to sweat and push the boundaries of what I can do, expanding my limits. I really do feel the tension between the two options as I can’t decide if my life–seen as a cohesive whole–ought to be generally described as enjoyable, peaceable, quiet, simple, and comedic or if it should generally be described as laboring, effective, solemn, ambitious, loyal and martial. While my reader might observe that these qualities are hardly mutually exclusive, it is harder still to deny that they do not carry a different sense of mood with them. It is fun versus seriousness. 

When discussing just this topic, a good friend of mine will often–in comedic jest–quote pastor John Piper who once exclaimed in a sermon “Fun. I’m so sick of that word: fun!” My friend would use the quote as a sarcastic censure to any enjoyment we were currently having by referencing Pastor Piper’s martial attitude toward living the christian life (despite that pastor’s sincere belief in “christian hedonism”). 

I suppose my real issue here is that I want a simple answer. I want to either be given a life of easy enjoyment or a life of meaningful hardship. I want to either be the fearless missionary martyr or the jolly friar, too full from his latest meal to do anything more than nap on the well-endowed parsonage porch. The reality is more complex. 

Indeed, the christian life is buoyant, never allowing its laments to betray its joys or its joys to betray its laments. There is both a need to call on a savior, because the world–and indeed our own lives–are so joyless, and a need to sing and dance, because the victory has already been won. I suppose the goal here is to mirror Christ’s own emotional range and then follow his leading when it comes to the timing of those emotions. I picture myself in the banquet hall of a king who I am in service to. When the king is solemn or weeping, I–as one of his attending knights–weep along with him. When the king is joyful and exuberant, I too match his joy with my own. In all emotions, I look to Him for prompting. This intention to match the Spirit’s emotional leading also allows the Spirit to critique me. If I am dejected, I allow the Spirit to comfort me and I truly am comforted. If I am pridefully and foolishly exuberant in my own accomplishments, I allow the Spirit to quiet me. In all my emotions I intend to be in step with the Spirit, through the practice of prayer and scripture reading, aligning my heart and vision with my king’s. I’m not sure how that will all shake out as far as how enjoyable or unenjoyable my life will be. Yet, I intend to hold both my tears and my laughs loosely, allowing them to shift as I respond to the music of the flute or the dirge as I hear them play. 

It was enjoyable to write this.  

View other pots from Micah at micahbragg.substack.com