I come closer to ecstasy through sex, poetry and hikes (and gingersnaps dipped in coffee) than I do reading scripture or prayer.
Worship is close at times, but hit and miss depending on a wide range of factors, such as music, what I had for breakfast and whether there are goats on Thunder Mountain.
I feel somewhat guilty saying this as a pastor. I’m not really a spiritual climax kind of gal. The only way I make it through reading the Bible is to read Billy Collins’ poetry at the same time. It’s taken me forever to finish the book of Jeremiah and I’ve finished two poetry collections in the meantime.
But I read my Bible and say my prayers nearly every morning because I think life is about more than ecstasy and enjoyment. I ground my life in worship instead of filling my life only with sex, poetry, hikes and gingersnaps (even though I ate three dozen last week) because the very things that bring us joy can imprison us and leave us empty.
This idea has wandered around in my head for some time, but it was Francis Spufford in Unapologetic who put words to it. He writes about the atheist bus campaign in the United Kingdom that says, “There’s probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life.” Spufford could care less about the campaign proposing the possibility there may be no God; he’ll be the first to admit that faith is not about certainty.
Spufford takes issue with the word “enjoy.” He writes, “Enjoyment is great. But enjoyment is one emotion. The only things in the world that are designed to elicit enjoyment and only enjoyment are products, and your life is not a product.”
I do not always enjoy reading scripture, but it is where I delve into the tedium of details, the messiness of family trees, the expectations for life then and often now, the bloody battles that leave me confused about God’s role, the awkward reminders of my own brokenness and God’s amazing faithfulness through all of it. I pray so I can sit with my own and others’ pain, needs and joys without jealousy or the need to fix. Reading scripture and praying help me know the fullness of God’s love and the fullness of my own and others’ humanity.
We cheat ourselves and others when we only surround ourselves with things that bring us comfort or entertainment. There are so many emotions we protect our heart from knowing because they are uncomfortable, but these experiences are as vital to an abundant life as joy.
One of the greatest gifts we can give ourselves and kids is the language to name what you are feeling. Nobody gets to judge you for what you feel. Getting the anger, confusion, fear, desire, anticipation, jealousy and whatever else out on the table helps you regain perspective on yourself and a situation.
Name ‘em and claim ‘em. That’s my motto with emotions. Rarely do I let a feeling pass without pulling it out into the open and examining it. Sometimes it’s shocking to imagine such an emotion comes from me and sometimes it makes me tend myself a little more carefully.
Nobody gets to judge our feelings, but when we pull them out in the open then we can figure out healthy ways to respond to them. Once I can identify a feeling, then I can start making “I need” statements. I’m feeling angry so I need someone else to unload the dishwasher. I’m feeling nervous so I need support and sweetness. I’m feeling frumpy and wrinkly so I need to be told how beautiful I am.
I need the experiences that bring me great joy, but we lie to ourselves when we idolize enjoyment over all the emotions we are capable of feeling.
• Tari Stage-Harvey is the pastor of Shepherd of the Valley Lutheran Church.
