Fun

“…I believe that for just about everybody the most fulfilling thing we can do, in the long term, is to focus on our work. By “work,” I’m not just referring to a nine-to-five job. It could be parenting. Or serving on a board. Or volunteering. Many possible things. Anything that contributes good to others is work, regardless if we’re getting paid for it.

And what distracts us most from that kind of work? One of the biggest things is work’s opposite: leisure. Or better put modern society’s infatuation with leisure.

…I’m not against rest, relaxation and fun. I just don’t want you to miss out on the things that matter to you because you’ve unthinkingly bought into our cultural notions of leisure. What I’m against is making leisure your objective. Because if leisure is your objective, it will inevitably displace your higher priorities. That’s a very common problem in our society.

Let me put it this way: Leisure make a great booster to long-term productivity in our pursuit of meaningful goals. But leisure makes a terrible goal in itself.

Leisure doesn’t provide meaning. It provides renewal for other things that do provide meaning.

Preaching Angles: Leisure: Mk 6:31, Ex 20:10, Ecc 3:13, Ps 118:24; Work: Col 3:23, Pr 16:3, Gen 2:15, Pr 18:9; Purpose: Jn 6;27, Col 3:17, M 6:33 Source: Joshua Becker, Things That Matter, Waterbrook, 2022, Page 146-147

Giant companies that study us in hopes of unearthing insights that can help them sell more potato chips, laundry detergent, and lipstick have reached a conclusion that economists and pollsters have also found. We are unhappy—squeezed by inflation, troubled by global conflicts, and worried about an acrimonious election season. The companies are calibrating their pitches to entice us to open our wallets as a way of improving our collective mood.

Clorox thinks it can help with a new toilet bomb, a tablet of cleaner that foams and fizzes in the toilet bowl and releases a pleasant scent. “People are looking for a spark of fun and joy,” said Clorox’s general manager of cleaning. “We all know the world can get messy, but we understand the link between a clean environment and one’s physical and emotional well-being.”

As part of what Clorox calls a “consumer-obsessed” approach, staffers started using artificial-intelligence tools to scan digital media for new ideas. The Foaming Toilet Bomb is its first product from this initiative.

Procter & Gamble combs societal trends to select a scent of the year. So, P&G declared “Romance & Desire” its scent of the year, and bequeathed it to anxious Americans in the form of new Febreze air fresheners with a fragrance of pink rose petals and champagne spritz. The product line is intended to offer a sensory reminder of the importance of human connection, the company said.

N.D. Wilson writes in an article titled “God the Merrymaker”:

We Christians are the proclaimers of joy. We speak in this world on behalf of the One who made lightning and snowflakes and eggs. Or so we say. We say we want to be like God, and we feel we mean it. But we don’t. Not to be harsh, but if we did really mean it, we would be having a lot more fun than we are. We are made in God’s image and should strive to imitate him.

A dolphin flipping through the sun beyond the surf, a falcon in a dive, a mutt in the back of a truck, flying his tongue like a flag of joy. These all reflect the Maker more wholly than many of our endorsed thinkers, theologians, and churchgoers.

Look over our day-to-day lives. How do we parent, for example? Rules. Fears. Don’ts. “Don’t jump on the couch.” “No gluten in this house.” “Get down from that tree.” “Quiet down.” “Hold still.” We live as if God were an infinite list of negatives. In our bent way of thinking, that makes him the biggest stress-out of all.

We say that we would like to be more like God. Speak your joy. Mean it. Sing it. Do it. Push it down into your bones. Let it overflow your banks and flood the lives of others. At his right hand, there are pleasures forevermore. When we are truly like him, the same will be said of us.

Thousands of workers now identify as their company’s “Chief Happiness Officer” or CHO. What does a CHO do every day? For Erika Conklin, CHO of a digital marketing startup, this month’s duties, included procuring beer and Jet Skis for a company retreat to Sarasota, Florida. She still deals with employee benefits and payroll. But she also works late signing contracts for company events or listening when co-workers need to vent about whatever makes them unhappy.

McDonald’s started the trend by “promoting” Ronald McDonald to chief happiness officer in 2003 as a joke. Then tech companies like Google joined the CHO bandwagon. The late Zappos Chief Executive Tony Hsieh was famously committed to a fun working environment. His book, Delivering Happiness, prompted other business leaders to give priority to workers’ emotional well-being.

But being responsible for others’ high spirits comes with a lot of pressure. There’s the expectation to always appear cheerful. And if morale sinks or the retention rate slips, the person with “happiness” in their title is likely to get some of the blame. CHOs often stress about their colleagues’ levels of happiness.

One CHO said, “Generally, I am very positive—my husband and my immediate family are the only ones who see the not-so-great side.” Another CHO polls her roughly 100 co-workers weekly so that she always knows the collective mood. “If there’s a dip, we ask, ‘Why?’” she says. “If it soars, we’re like, ‘What are we doing? How can we keep repeating this?’”

There is a pervasive form of contemporary violence. The rush and pressures of modern life are a form of its innate violence. To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything, to succumb to violence ... The frenzy of the activist ... destroys our own inner capacity for peace.

It destroys the fruitfulness of our own work, because it kills the root of inner wisdom which makes work fruitful.

—Thomas Merton

Editor's Note: Note that this was written in the 1960s, well before iPhones, the Internet, Facebook, personal computers, and the proliferation of TVs. Merton may have been underestimating the rush and pressure and "innate violence" of our age.

Half a century ago, an upholsterer from San Francisco made a curious discovery. He was called to a cardiologist's office to reupholster some chairs in the waiting room. When he looked at the furniture, he wondered immediately what was wrong with the patients. Only the front edge of the seats and the first few inches of the armrests were worn out. "People don't wear out chairs this way," he said.

Five years later, in 1959, Drs. Meyer Friedman and Ray Rosenman began to put the pieces together. They had noticed an odd pattern shared by many of their cardiac patients, a pattern that centered on a "chronic sense of time urgency." Patients showed irritability at being made to wait in line, had difficulty relaxing, and were anxious over delays. Obsessed with not wasting a moment, they spoke quickly, interrupted often, hurried those around them, and were forever rushing. Hence the waiting room chairs: the patients sat on the edge of their seats, nervously fidgeting at the arms of the chairs as they watched time tick by.

The cardiologists called the new disease "hurry sickness."

According to Friedman, hurry sickness "arises from an insatiable desire to accomplish too much or take part in too many events in the amount of time available." The hurry-sick person is unable to acknowledge that he can do only a finite number of things. "As a consequence, he never ceases trying to 'stuff' more and more events in his constantly shrinking reserves of time."

We're actually born smiling. 3-D ultrasound technology now shows that developing babies appear to smile even in the womb. After they're born, babies continue to smile (initially mostly in their sleep) and even blind babies smile in response to the sound of the human voice.

An intriguing UC Berkeley 30-year longitudinal study examined the smiles of students in an old yearbook, and measured their well-being and success throughout their lives. By measuring the smiles in the photographs the researchers were able to predict: how fulfilling and long lasting their marriages would be, how highly they would score on standardized tests of well-being and general happiness, and how inspiring they would be to others. The widest smilers consistently ranked highest in all of the above.

Even more surprising was a 2010 Wayne State University research project that examined the baseball cards photos of Major League players in 1952. The study found that the span of a player's smile could actually predict the span of his life! Players who didn't smile in their pictures lived an average of only 72.9 years, while players with beaming smiles lived an average of 79.9 years.

Possible Preaching Angles: Joy—Although smiling doesn't always stem from genuine joy, at times there is certainly a connection between the joy on our face and the joy in our heart.

In his book Pure Pleasure, Gary Thomas reminds us that the Heavenly Father we meet in and through Jesus Christ loves to give his children gifts.

Once, while walking through a McDonald's restaurant, I saw eight ten-year-old girls celebrating a birthday. The warmth of sheer, unadulterated happiness permeated the gathering.

It was as if a light had been turned on and I could see God's delight. God felt happy that these girls were happy. Their delight, their joy, even their giddiness, gave God great pleasure. Have you ever thought about that—that you can give God great pleasure by enjoying yourself?

If you're a parent, imagine Christmas morning as the young kids tear into presents. Does anything make you happier? Don't moments like these break into the dull routines of life and give us a glimpse of heaven?

The fact that we are children of God—and that Jesus urges us to become like children—speaks of a certain demeanor, a certain delight, a certain trust in God's goodness and favor toward us. While God's servants are not merely his children (he also calls us to sacrificial and mature service), we never become less than his children.

Children will play with virtually anything they get their hands on. It's no surprise, then, that when Dutch children in the town of Barneveld uncovered an unexploded World War II artillery shell, they played with it. In fact, they had games with it for several months.

That shell was still live and contained high explosives. Thankfully, the deadly plaything did not explode in the Barneveld playground as the children tossed it about. Eventually the authorities learned about the shell, confiscated it, and exploded it in a safe place.

Those who are not yet mature often fail to recognize the danger of what they are doing. For children, the world is a playground, and bombs make great toys.

As stated on the Toys for Tots website: "The mission of the U.S. Marine Corps Reserve Toys for Tots Program is to collect new, unwrapped toys during October, November, and December each year, and distribute those toys as Christmas gifts to needy children in the community in which the campaign is conducted." That being the case, it was surprising when the charity rejected a donation of 4,000 new, unwrapped toys heading into the 2006 Christmas season.

What was the reason for this rejection? The toys in question were battery-operated, talking representations of Jesus Christ. According to the website of the dolls' manufacturer, One2Believe, the button-activated, bearded Talking Jesus doll is dressed in hand-sewn cloth outfits and sandals. It also recites Scripture verses, such as, "I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again" and "Love your neighbor as yourself."

Bill Grein, vice president of the Toys for Tots program, said the charity chose to reject the dolls for several reasons. First, as a government entity, the Marines "don't profess one religion over another," Grein said. "We can't take a chance on sending a Talking Jesus doll to a Jewish family or a Muslim family."

He also added that, "Kids want a gift for the holiday season that is fun."

Thankfully, this particular Christmas story does have a happy ending. About a week after his initial decision to reject the toys, Mr. Grein sent the following e-mail to their manufacturer: "Having reconsidered your kind offer of several thousand dolls last week, the Marine Toys for Tots Foundation would like to receive them. We believe that with some effort we will be able to find homes for them all."

Two old fellows were walking along the shoreline of a lake when a frog came hopping up to them.

Creaking with age, one of the old-timers slowly bent down and scooped up the frog in his hands. As he stood there gazing at the frog, fascinated by its ugliness, the frog croaked, "Hey, mister! I'm not really a frog. If you kiss me, I'll turn into a beautiful princess who will do anything your heart desires."

Startled, the old man slipped the frog into his pocket and headed on down the shoreline. For the longest time he and his friend trudged along in silence.

"Well?" his buddy finally blurted out. "You gonna kiss it?"

"Naw, I guess not," the first codger replied. "At my age, I think I'll have more fun with a talking frog."

We should "choose the leisure activities that bring us closest to God, to people, to beauty, and to all that ennobles." –J. I. Packer

"What was passing for humor basically ranged from stupid to vulgar—and I just thought, 'I'm not going to be a part of this.'"

—Emmy-winning actress and pro-life activist Patricia Heaton, star of the TV series Everybody Loves Raymond explaining why she walked out in the middle of this year's American Music Awards ceremony.

Someone once said, "Angels can fly because they take themselves so lightly." We need to put lightness back into our marriages.

When I sense I've been taking myself too seriously, I carry small toys in my pocket; when I reach for change and feel a toy, I remember to lighten up.

Changing routine can also do wonders. Try kidnapping your spouse. A friend of mine kidnapped his wife and took her to a hotel 40 miles away. My wife once kidnapped me and took me on a helicopter ride. Marriage is for life--we might as well make it fun.