The Vision
The Vision
Okay, you've just sat down with the new and heavier Every Thought Captive. You've got the kids under control, and all is blessedly quiet. You've read the back page already, got your laughs, and now what? (If you're more sanctified than most you haven't read the back, you have the discipline to save the best for last.) What kind of experience are you looking for? Are you thinking, "This ought to be fun?" or "What kind of outrageous hoo-haw are they gonna say this time?" or "Spirit, prepare to be convicted?" or, "Whoo-boy, wonder who they're gonna skewer in this issue?" The good news is that we want you to have a good time. The bad news is that that might not be what you think.
Our theme this issue is pleasure. Though we are generally positive about pleasure, and though there are even a few articles that reflect such, most of what you will find is our negative response toward those who are negative about pleasure. Mostly we want to think deliberately, and happily, about pleasure. And of course, we take great pleasure in challenging those who oppose pleasure.
Most of our yelling is directed at the sourpusses. A little will be at those who let some trendy, slick magazine tll them what a good time really is. (That kind of information, of course, comes only from non-trendy, basement made, and did I mention we're getting heavier, magazines). Those sourpusses seem to live up to the false billing of our Puritan forefathers. These are the folks who jump from the fairly sound line of "If it tastes good, it's bad for you' to 'If I find pleasure in it, it must be sin." The Puritans proved the charge is scurrilous with the first question of the Shorter Catechism: What is the chief end of man? To glorify God and enjoy Him forever. Enjoy Him? The pagan finds such impossible; the sourpuss finds it morally questionable. Most of us live somewhere in between, as worldly Christians eager to enjoy, willing to glorify, but not quite sure where He fits in.
John Piper gives wisdom here when he writes that God is most glorified by us when we are most satisfied in Him. Now he doesn't mean by this, as the sourpuss argues, that this means that we can only be happy during devotions, or on Sunday morning. Or we can only find pleasure in contemplating His glory. Rather he believes, wisely, that all legitimate pleasures find their root in Him. See the root, praise the root, remember your dependence upon the root, and that pleasure is grace, and then go and have a good time.
When my children tumble and wrestle with me, when Shannon screams in delight as I nuzzle her tummy, when Delaney gives me a smile, well, I confess, I enjoy that. And the center of my thinking is merely, "Gosh these kids are great." But that is not the sum of my thinking. The root from which the pleasure flows goes something like this, "God has not left me alone. He has blessed me with family. And not just any family. He has given me delightful children,
and a loving, godly wife. He has given me meaningful work to do. I get to exercise dominion as His vice-regent. And when all is said and done, I live forever in an infinite ocean of pure pleasure. I don't deserve those things. I deserve eternal torment, a lake of fire. Man is He good to me. And by His grace I will raise these children to be vessels of mercy, who will sing His glory forever. I will teach these children not only how to inflict a half-nelson, but why we have joy."
If I'm thinking this way, I have my cake and eat it too. Because I know the joy is rooted in His grace, I will not be bewildered if He calls me to sorrow. Nor will I abandon Him in search of illicit pleasures, or licit pleasures illicitly enjoyed from Old Scratch, the grim one. The key, as it so often is, is balance.
This balance is not the stoic kind that flees pleasure, and flees pain, that seeks to flatline our experience, but one that pursues the peaks and valleys. If I am anesthetized by the true opiate of the rnasses, if I am comfortably numb, I will have no joy, and no sorrow. Instead I want to live boldly and feel strongly. When I was married a friend asked me if I felt bad about crying during the ceremony. "No," I said, "God can make me cry anytime He wants to." But Hallmark won't. The birth of a baby will give me joy, winning the Super Bowl will not. Losing a baby will lead me to grief, scratching my truck will not.
We are not to pursue the extremes for the sake of the extremes, breathlessly treating our lives like the emotional X -Games but to live our lives in the arenas that matter. As long as my mind is focused on the eternal things, (including the children with which I wrestle) how can I do anything but feel strongly? As long as I seek my pleasure where God directed me to, why should I suffer from guilt? And as long as I remember that all things work together for good for those that love the Lord, even my sorrow will not be as the pagans who have no hope. Knowing that, I can count it all joy, even my sorrow.
So have a great read. Laugh out loud if you want to. Have a piece of cake as you read, or a glass of wine and thank your Father in heaven. He is Lord of the garden, and He delights in your delight. And rejoicing with those who rejoice, so do we.