My wife and I recently returned from a week-long vacation to Maine. We hiked Acadia National Park. We ate copious amounts of lobster and ice cream. And on our final day, we watched the sunrise from the top of Cadillac Mountain, and the sunset from a sandbar off the coast.
But that’s not all that happened this week. We faced bitter disappointments. Bad weather. Marital conflicts over tremendous meals. Though we would have liked to, we couldn’t escape the harsh realities of life as broken sinners in a fallen world.
Ray Ortlund’s new book Eat, Drink, & Be Merry could not have come at a better time. A book subtitled “A Gospel Call to Bold Enjoyment” dovetails nicely with this getaway of rest and enjoyment. What I didn’t expect was how much the events of our trip and the content of this book would touch the joys and sorrows of my life.
On this trip, Ortlund became my mentor and his book my field guide to delighting in God in a fallen world.[1] And this is an invitation he extends to anyone and everyone who reads this pocket-sized call to bold enjoyment—a call that extends far beyond even the best of vacations to eternity with Jesus Christ.
Enjoy This Brief Life
Ortlund sees a problem. And by and large, I think he’s right. Our age is caught between the poles of “serious” spirituality on the one hand, and empty frivolity on the other. We see that the world is broken, and we want to enjoy our life, but feel the need to pick between one or the other.
Ortlund, however, says, “By no means!” The wise life is “both/and”, not “either/or.”[2] Citing Ecclesiastes 11:9–11, he points out that “wisdom enjoys this brief life.”[3] The wise life recognizes the limitations, shortcomings, and pains of this life, and instead of being crushed by them, strives to enjoy life as a gracious gift of God—limitations and all.
My wife and I both work in ministry. She is the director of education for a non-profit working with refugees, and I serve on staff at our church with college students and local mission efforts. We’re consistently on the knife’s edge between the joys and sorrows of ministry life. It can be exhausting. And that exhaustion can lead us to minimize life’s joys and amplify its difficulties.
Some might call this serious-spirituality virtuous; Ortlund would say it misses the mark. “Enjoying the enjoyable is part of Christian virtue. Which means it’s a strength. A strategic strength.”[4] It is providential that I read this sentence while enjoying a red velvet cookie, sitting in a cozy bed-and-breakfast, warmed by a fire. I could feel guilty for enjoying that moment. Or, I could pursue the strategic, Christian virtue of delighting in this good gift from God. So I did, and I finished the cookie.
Gospel-Driven Enjoyment
“But Tyler,” I hear you say, “this sounds like bald faced hedonism!” To which Ortlund would once again say, “By no means!”
The both/and of enjoying this brief life is only possible because of the gospel. As Christians, we sit downstream of the rushing river of God’s grace towards us in Christ. Or as Ortlund says, “The gospel of salvation by grace means that grace gives before it requires.”[5] Christian enjoyment is not hedonism detached from the gospel. It is a result of receiving and delighting in the grace of God. To help us see this, Ortlund grounds Gospel-driven enjoyment in the central doctrines of the faith.
God did not have to create, but the moment he decided to, it was a moment of pure grace. Furthermore, God has littered creation with delights to be enjoyed—some of which seem to have no purpose other than enjoyment. But God’s good creation does not excuse prioritizing the creation over the Creator. Instead, Ortlund suggests a better route:
To sneer at God’s good creation is sinful, and preferring his good creation over his surpassing Son is also sinful. Let’s not sin! Let’s enjoy his good creation, and let’s worship his worthy Son! Created pleasures make bad gods, but they are still good treats.[6]
Sitting on the cliffs of Otter Point at sunrise, my wife and I couldn’t help but note how small we felt in comparison to the grandeur before us. What else could we do but take in the majesty of creation, then sing “How Great Thou Art” to the Creator? Delight in God leads to delight in His creation, and delight in His creation leads to delight in God.
All of the delights and far-from-ideal moments of our lives are intended to point us beyond this life to our future home of unending delight with God in heaven.
We know, however, that creation is not what it ought to be. We’re sinners through and through, and our lives are littered with broken hearts and disappointment. Ortlund recognizes this and directs our hearts to the very first word of Ecclesiastes 11:9: Rejoice.
Why? Because in Christ and His gospel, life’s heartbreaks and our own sin don’t have the final word. Sin is real, brokenness is palpable, and disappointment is bitter, but none of those realities win in the end. God has lavished his grace on us through the life, death, and resurrection of Christ.
And since it’s God lavishing his goodness on you, then, when life does disappoint… it’s okay. The word rejoice keeps your heart alert to what God is giving you. And the one caring for you today will be caring for you tomorrow… Your life is far from ideal and God is spreading a feast of his goodness before you, and now is your time to enjoy it. It’s your both/and. That is the wisdom your Father invites and commands you to receive.[7]
As a result, followers of Jesus can participate in the discipline of delight. We can keep an eye out for the gifts of God through Christ and rejoice in Him for sending them our way. Furthermore, it helps us see that our “far-from-ideal” life is actually a good gift of grace from the God who loves us.
The last morning, we woke up at 3:30 A.M. to hop in the car and drive to Otter Point for the sunrise, only to get there and sit under a sky filled with clouds. Sure, the sun rose, but we didn’t see it.
So did we waste our time waking up at 3:30 in the morning? We could look at it that way, or we could see that even that far-from-ideal moment was filled with a gift. The gift of looking at creation, even in its disappointments, as a window to enjoy the creator. Isn’t that what “How Great Thou Art” is trying to teach us after all?
O Lord my God
When I in awesome wonder
Consider all the works
Thy hands have made,
I see the stars,
I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy pow’r throughout
The universe displayed!
All of the delights and far-from-ideal moments of our lives are intended to point us beyond this life to our future home of unending delight with God in heaven. We don’t just want the gifts God offers in this life, “we want more than even the best this life can offer.”[8] In heaven, we will finally be free of the lingering sense of loneliness, sin, anxiety, despair, and disappointment we carry daily.
Instead, we will be home. We will sing with “raucous and rowdy singing” in praise to our God.[9] We will finally “obtain gladness and joy as solid, personal realities, gladly given by Jesus, with overflowing abundance.”[10] We will see our Jesus face to face. And we will collapse into His arms.
That’s better than a trip to Maine. Or any delight this world can offer. And with the hope of that full and future hope to come, we can live a wise life of both/and enjoyment today.
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