Pursuing Veritas

This post originally served as a message at Arise Church

If you haven’t seen The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, let me highly recommend it to you. The film tells the story of a humdrum employee of Life magazine who loses the photo slotted for the magazine’s final cover and embarks on a whirlwind tour of the world to track it down. While on his quest, Walter has some simply incredible experiences, captured with visually stunning cinematography.

In this scene, Walter finally tracks down the photographer (Sean) who he’s looking for whole Sean waits to take a picture of the elusive snow leopard in the mountains of Afghanistan. But rather than taking the picture, Sean and Walter just stop and enjoy the moment.

It’s a beautiful scene in a beautiful movie, a moment where nothing actually happens, but everything important takes place anyway. Sean doesn’t take the picture but creates a moment that will last forever. Not taking a picture is the penultimate moment of a movie about a picture—it’s the film’s ultimate example of stopping to focus on and enjoy every moment in life rather than rushing through what we think needs to be done.

There’s a lesson here for us: in our ever-busier world, with crammed schedules and endless to do lists, it can be easy to miss the importance of enjoy each moment. When we’ve got kids to feed, projects to finish, holiday events to plan—and of course, photos to post about all of it on Instagram—it can be all too easy to rush through our days. Who has time to stop and enjoy a conversation with a friend that you bump into at the store? Between running our kids from activity to activity, who has energy to anything other than scroll through our phones? What else can we do when we get home after a long and exhausting day other than veg in front of the TV?

We’re rushed and harried and hurried, always with something else to do, somewhere else to go, and someone else to please. Who has time to stop, let alone stop and relax for a minute? Walter Mitty doesn’t. Until he does. And he learns the absolute necessity of enjoying life.

In her book, Liturgy of the Ordinary, Tish Harrison Warren uses the image of drinking tea to talk about this practice of stopping to enjoy life. When we stop our days to enjoy a nice cup of tea (or coffee), we have the opportunity to relax and enjoy the moment. At its best, drinking tea is a pleasant reminder of goodness and leisure.

While I was studying at Oxford, drinking tea became an important part of my life. I was taking the equivalent of 21 academic hours of work while also trying to take trips every weekend to enjoy my time abroad. So there was always work to be done: books to read, lectures to attend, papers to write, seminars to prepare for. But every Friday morning, I would travel to a little nearby village called Eynsham and drink tea. It was a time to sit back, take a deep breath, soak in all that I was experiencing, catch up on conversations with friends, and just relax. I had a wonderful time in Oxford—but the experience was all the more enjoyable because I stopped each week to drink some tea.

We’re thinking about drinking tea and enjoying life today as we begin to wrap our series on the Liturgy of the Ordinary here at Arise. Over the last couple of months, we’ve looked at how we can experience God in our ordinary everyday practices—in things like waking up, making the bed, brushing our teeth, losing our keys, eating leftovers, fighting with our spouses, checking email, waiting in traffic, and calling a friend. We’ve seen how transforming our unthinking routines and stringent requirements into intentionally-grace filled habits can change the way we live—and the way that we experience God in our daily lives. In the words of Karen Swallow Prior, we’ve learned that, “While our works cannot save us, our habits strengthen our faith.” (ORW)

Now, towards the end of our time together today I’ll be pausing to give you some time to share your experiences with the liturgy of the ordinary, so if you’ve been here during this series, be thinking about that. And I should note that today isn’t quite the end of this series, as next week we’ll officially wrap things up with a message on Sleeping and Sabbath from guest preacher Ariel Stephens. But today, we’re moving toward our conclusion with some reflection on enjoyment and drinking tea.

And more than anything, a liturgy of drinking team reminds us of our need to curate the enjoyment of goodness, truth, and beauty in life. As human beings, we’re made for and meant to enjoy life. Amidst the grind of life, that can be easy to forget. But Genesis tells us that God created a good good world for us to enjoy, and although the world is often broken and distorted, there are still moments where goodness and pleasure can breakthrough and be enjoyed.

At the very end of his letter to the earliest followers of Jesus in a city called Philippi, the Apostle Paul wrote this: Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. ⁹ Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. (Philippians 4.8-9 NIV)

As a super nerd, this is one of my favorite passages in the entire Bible. Why? Because Paul tells me to think. The verb that Paul uses here is logizomai, which means “to consider, reflect, calculate, on reason with.” (LSJ) “Reflect on and reason with things that are true and noble and pure and lovely and admirable and excellent and praiseworthy,” Paul is telling us. Good things are good and should be enjoyed as good. True things are true and should be enjoyed as true. Beautiful things are beautiful and should be enjoyed as beautiful. Paul is calling us to curate the enjoyment of goodness, truth, and beauty in life. We should enjoy life and the good things that we encounter in life.

A few months back, I was conversing with a friend from grade school on Facebook and she was complaining about how Puritanical and unfun Christians are. And while a lot of Christians aren’t very fun, following Jesus isn’t inherently boring or unfun. Wonder, play, enjoyment, and fun should all be part of following Jesus, because He made us to enjoy such things. That’s one reason why here at Arise, we talk about not taking ourselves too seriously even as we take Jesus seriously. It’s why we can make fun of ourselves in preservice videos or host giant community parties like Trunk or Treat and the Christmas Movie Marathon. Because following the God who created goodness, truth, and beauty can and should be enjoyable.

Tish Harrison Warren talks about this when she writes, “A culture formed by the gospel will honor good and right enjoyment, celebration, and sensuousness.” (LitOrd, 131) Let’s break that down for a moment. First, notice the reiteration of the idea that good things are worthy enjoying and celebrating. The stories of Jesus’ life in Scripture tells us that He went to weddings, feasted with friends, and enjoyed life. If that was good enough for the perfect Son of God, we may likewise enjoy life.

Second, let’s be real about what counts as good, true, and beautiful in our world: many things, but also the gifts of sensuality, sexuality, and sex. While Paul’s words in Philippians don’t explicitly say this, there are plenty of other portions of Scripture that highlight how God made us for one another and how human sexuality is a good thing that is to be enjoyed. Don’t believe me? Go read the Song of Songs in the Old Testament (although kids, maybe wait until you’re like 18 to do that).

Finally, we see that truly good enjoyment is right and ordered enjoyment. Tish rightly notes that, “Pleasure is a gift, but it can become an idol.” (LitOrd, 137) For centuries, Christians have talked about the importance of enjoyment without overindulging. Sex is good but an addition to sex is a problem. Food is good but eating too much of it is a sin. Growing up, occasionally someone in my family would get a movie for a birthday or Christmas or whatever. And without fail, my siblings would watch and watch and watch the movie over the next several weeks. They’d love it so much that they would watch it on repeat for days. And it would absolutely ruin the movie. I think I watched parts of Ratatouille like 30 times in the couple of weeks after we got it—and to this day, the movie’s a little ruined for me.

This is what we can do with good things—with sex, food, money, entertainment. We can let our desire for good things run amuck and become lust, gluttony, greed, and sloth. Proper enjoyment of good things requires order and discernment. Good things should be enjoyed, but within their proper place. In the words of a prayer written by St. Augustine: “These are your gifts; they are good, for you in your goodness made them. Nothing in them is from us, save our sin when we neglect your order and fix our love on the creature, instead of on you, our Creator.” (City of God, XV.22)

That’s why I’m saying we should curate an enjoyment of goodness, truth, and beauty in life. That’s a very intentional word. A curator is someone who selects, organizes, and looks after things, often in a museum or collection. If we’re curating enjoyment in our lives, that means we’re not just doing whatever seems fun; no, it means we’re being intentional and reflective with what we do and enjoy.

So, then, what can curating the enjoyment of goodness, truth, and beauty look like in our lives? What does this liturgy involve? Let me quickly suggest some ideas:

First, sing. Almost everyone loves singing. A few months ago, we watched Bohemian Rhapsody, which tells the story of the band Queen. Even today, decades after Freddy Mercury died, people love Queen. Why? Because people can sing along to Queen. They wrote certain songs specifically so that people could participate—and participate we do. I bet many of you know more lyrics to Queen songs than you do Bible verses. I don’t say that in judgment, only as a testament to the power of song and singing. So curate opportunities to sing in your life! Blast the music and sing along in your car. Serenade your family from the shower. Sing out while worshipping here at church. Don’t be embarrassed to sing along to Spotify while you’re on your daily walk. Sing!

Another suggestion is to discover beauty. What do you find beautiful or fascinating? Paintings? Sculpture? Nature? Water? People watching? Find opportunities to recognize and celebrate beauty. We’ve got an amazing art museum here in St. Louis. There’s a huge (if a little odd at times) sculpture park right up the road in Sunset Hills. There are so many parks and trails that are full of fall colors right now. Get out and go enjoy some beauty. Don’t take pictures of it—enjoy it. Just take it all in. Take a cup of coffee or tea with you and reflect on what you’re seeing as you enjoy your beverage. Discover and enjoy something beautiful in our world. And remember: “When we enjoy God’s creation, we reflect God himself.” (LitOrd, 131)

There are lots of other things you can do to enjoy life: plan a vacation, develop a hobby, get coffee with a friend. Hayley and I have recently taken up building Lego together. But one final idea I’ll mention is to plan a nothing day. I’ve seen some of your calendars and this might be the hardest idea of all. Get a day on your family calendar when you have nothing planned. Seriously. Nothing. Not running an errand. Not going to practice. Not work. Not school. Nothing. Plan it. And then protect it at all costs. And then, see where your nothing day takes you. Get up late. Make a fun breakfast. Putter around. Do something fun and spontaneous. But plan nothing on your calendar.

Now, someone is thinking to themselves, “hey Jacob, you can’t plan to have fun or enjoy something.” And that’s true—to a point. But making a liturgy out of enjoyment will become fun. When singing or discovering beauty or planning a nothing day or something else enjoyable becomes part of how you live life, that’s when it really makes a difference.  So stop. Take a break. Do something fun. Enjoy life. Don’t take the picture. Have a conversation. Give yourself grace. Drink some tea.

That’s it guys—that’s what a liturgy of the ordinary can look like. Taking normal everyday parts of our lives and grace-filled and purposefully intentional with how we do life. God loves you and He’s always with you. And sometimes all we need to do in order to recognize His presence is to take note of the grace He offers us in the little, daily things of life—like drinking tea. God is forming you into a new people—and the place of that formation is in the small moments of your life. Are you ready to journey into the ordinary with Him?