Serious Fun

What if the point was fun?

It sounds almost irresponsible to ask it. There’s so much damage in the world, so much scrambling for control, so much effort spent trying to make things work the way I want them to work. People push and maneuver and exhaust themselves just to get their way—or to get others out of their way. In a world like that, “fun” feels like the wrong idea. Almost inappropriate.

But still… what if the point was fun? What if God’s impulse in creation was something like, “Isn’t this cool? Let’s get into it.”

I keep coming back to this moment in Mark 10, where Jesus tells his disciples they’ve misunderstood importance. People are bringing their children to him so he can place his hands on them, and the disciples try to shut it down. Jesus gets indignant. He says, “Let the little children come to me; don’t hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” Then he adds, “Anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” And he gathers the children up, blesses them, holds them close.

That word we translate as “belongs” is actually the simple word for is. Think of it this way: the kingdom of God is of these. This is the material, the texture, the makeup of the kingdom. So unless you receive it the way they receive it, you’ll never find your way in.

He’s talking about posture—about discovery, curiosity, openness. Not knowing, but being willing to find out. Not guarding, but exploring. Not proving, but enjoying.

And it’s not just children. The kingdom is also “of” the poor in spirit, and the bruised, and the ones who get pushed aside because they follow Jesus and invite others into this life (Matthew 5). It’s the same posture: open-handed, unguarded, ready to learn.

The Kingdom

I think of a moment when our daughter was tiny, playing on a beach. She spotted another little girl nearby, and the two of them immediately fell into that relaxed play children seem to enter without hesitation. When I walked over, I realized the other girl was speaking French while ours was speaking English. They didn’t care. They didn’t need to. They just played. I looked over at the parents; they shrugged and grinned. They didn’t speak English either, so we all simply let the girls be.

Looking back, it seems shallow of us, really.

But we were the adults. We were the ones who “knew.” And because we knew how life works, we weren’t ready to simply communicate, enjoy, invite. We weren’t poor in spirit—aware of what we didn’t know and open to learning.

With all the supposedly important things in the world, all the tasks we insist are “necessary,” I keep wondering if this thing we were created for is that simple, and how we keep walking past it. If the kingdom isn’t found in our seriousness or our certainty, maybe it’s found in the joy we keep talking ourselves out of.

Maybe the point is and always has been fun.

Here’s a link to a piece I wrote for my friend, Curt Cloninger that expresses this idea another way:  https://youtu.be/pVSxKnx8TGc?si=uCv6PPEmdXHl_Hpl