catapult magazine

i’m working on a script right now for a suburban cable access station and the easiest relevant topic to pick on seems to be discontentment—with work, with family, with spending limits.

searching for ideas and principles to incorporate, i read through Ecclesiastes, which can be read a number of different ways, but ultimately says that all things can be reasonably determined to be meaningless outside of God’s purpose. in other words, all other means of seeking pleasure will result in discontentment.

how then do we understand our feelings of discontentment and what actions are we to take as a result of that understanding? i believe grant’s original question was, “to what extent does discontentment go against God’s norms for us?”

I guess I’d ask where does discontentment come from? Does it originate from a place within that is not satisfied? I think what Solomon was trying to say by making the statement, “All is meaningless,” is found in underlying motivation.

If the motivation to fill an internal hole with something other than Divine relationship, it is sincerely going to net you meaninglessness. There really isn’t anything that you “need” beyond the basics and a deep relationship with God. And I’m very serious about that.

Why do we seek pleasure? Boredom? Pride: you think that you deserve more or better than what you have? Covetness? Addiction? Emptiness? Stimulation? Neediness? Relieve any sort of pain? Escapeism?

I’m not sure we should seek pleasure any more than we should seek pain. Paul says, “I’ve learned to be content in all things.” I think by all things, he meant ALL! Whether Paul was making tents or sitting in a prision cell with blood trickling down his back from a recent beating, eating with wealthy publicans or starving with the poor, he was content. Did he deprive himself of good things when he had them? Doesn’t seem like it. Did he complain about the bad things that happened to him? Doesn’t seem like it. The key to his success was that he praised God, consistently. I can’t find an “I deserve” mentality anywhere except perhaps, I deserve to go to hell because I’m the worst of sinners, the least of the apostles.

What if Jesus copped an attitude of discontentment? "Man, Father, this is really boring. Couldn’t you liven things up a bit? Maybe allow me to do a few more miracles, maybe put on some big parties. You know, maybe it’d just be nice to be able to go four wheeling for the day? I’m sick of working, and this job as a carpenter stinks. This job as Rabbi stinks even more. Everybody keeps demanding things of me. I deserve better! Better wages, better accomodations, better clothes, better entertainment, better….

And that is what we’re taught from cradle to grave. It’s all about what you deserve, what you can attain, what you can achieve. It’s the power of the mind, the power of “I”, the power in you to “be all that you can be.” It’s the onslaught of “Will to Power.” It’s performance orientation glorifed as the greatest state of human health, human potential maximized.

Why do we chase after all this stuff. One of the big factors is greed, to be honest. Greed in culture and greed within ourselves. We’re bred to want more, and there are so many people out there who want us to want more because it makes more for them so that they can have more. And the more you have the more discontent and dissatisfied you become. At least Solomon in all his wisdom had the sense to recognize that everything left him empty. In some ways I think he was the most stupid King because he had all the wisdom in the world, knew the right answers, knew what would satisfy his soul and he chose to worship idols instead. And I guess that would go along with his hedonism, the worship of himself. That would have been what he needed to sacrifice in order to find true peace and happiness.

I note Jesus’ “me” times of midnight intercession. Prayerful rejuvenation in the wee hours of the morning. When was the last time any of us prayed at 2 am, just to connect with the Lord because we’d been exhausting ourselves in the service of His work?

Gathsemane also comes to mind, and that small window of alone time was a plea to be released from the Cross.

To be honest, among the greatest of saints I don’t see a spirit of discontent. God in fact hates murmering and complaining. I don’t know of many biblical characters manifesting the power, grace and authority of God as a pleasure seeking group of folks. Does that mean they never had a beer? Does it mean they never laughed and went to feasts and had a great time in community, no. I would wager they were normal people with normal lives.

I think it simply points to motivation and certainly attitude. I think God desires us to busy ourselves with His work, and His work is so vast that Jesus said to pray that the Lord would send more workers, because of the greatness of the harvest. I think the work sometimes is finding a quiet place and meditating upon His goodness, His Word and His character. Sometimes it might mean helping at church. Sometimes it might be mountain biking with a group of guys.

Be sensetive to the Spirit, and be filled with Christ. Everything else beyond seeking His kindgom will be added—whatever that means, be content in it. He is profoundly filling, and far more entertaining than the very poor excuses we have for entertainment in our “I deserve” culture of today.

God is exciting, and maybe that’s what needs to be communicated, rejuvenated and cultivated in our society. Being godly, seeking Him and doing His work is an awesome wild ride, in which faith moves mountains, tears down walls and brings transformation in lives, communities and the world at large.

He will certainly leave you satisfied in all the right ways.

Here are some verses you can reference which deal with pleasure: Dan 4:2, Ps 16:11, Prov 10:23; 21:17, Ecces 2:1-2, Ezek 18:32, Luke 8:14, 1 Tim 5:6, 2 Tim 3:4, James 4:3, Titus 3:3.

Here are some verses you can reference about contentment: Job 36:11, Prov 19:23, Heb 13:5, 1 tim 6:6-8, Phil 4:11, Luke 3:14.

Hope this sparks some ideas for your script, Kristen?

Amen.

There certainly should be discontentment in a Christian with the way the world is — and that may translate into aesthetics, calling, desire to worship, or any number of other things — but I think part of what Jenn is nailing in her last post is that television and the mass media push individual discontentment with an immediate solution — which is always expressed as spending money in some form. We in North America are conditioned to think we always need more stuff and that by buying stuff we can be happy. Of course, these two notions are totally at odds with each other, but we don’t think about that. We keep buying more stuff, being still unsatisfied, and then buying more stuff again.

Christianity has to be an alternative to this. We have to be different. We can’t buy into it or our belief is worthless.

I just want to add that the satisfaction the Christian has comes from learning to accept God’s grace. It’s hard to do that.

We want to feel like we earn things. It’s more valuable if you work hard for it. Does this sound American? I mean, didn’t we cross the ocean blue and battle arrow-shootin’ Indians for this land? Yes, we did, and what was our reward? Television.

I believe that the “message of television” we keep talking about is THE dominant message because we’ve allowed others to define the tv for us. Even in the beginning marketing stages of television, we were told that it was our reward for living in a technologically advanced nation. Indeed, people’s first televisions were very much a reward. The man of the house would save his paychecks for months and years to finally bring home the tv that he worked so hard for. And when he got home from work, television would be his reward for enduring eight hours of labor. It’s no wonder that advertising flourished on television with the message: “you deserve it”. You deserve all the things in the advertisements because you worked hard, because your neighbor has them, because they’re going fast and you’d better get off your ass and do something about it before it’s too late and you miss the opportunity for your reward for being so diligent in getting off your ass to purchase the item etc.

Jesus says, “Don’t just sit on your ass, get down on your knees” (not a direct quote, so don’t go looking it up) and accept your gift, even if you don’t deserve it." People who receive this gift learn to be content with what they have.

At the end of Ecclesiastes, the Teacher concludes that the purpose of human life is to “fear God and keep his commandments (Ecc. 12:13b).” I understood his explorations of meaninglessness in a life without God, but I felt like his conclusion never promised a pleasurable life. A content life, yes; but the description seems dispassionate to me, and as such difficult to understand as meaningful.

When I finish reading the book I immediately envision myself waking up, drinking some coffee, stepping out into the world and walking on my two feet to FearandObedienceWorks, to my unending job, where my occupation is loving God and my neighbors, and not coveting, etc. And the Teacher leaves me without answers to my questions: “Why work here? To what end? What is the meaning here that is lacking elsewhere?” I guess I have to wait for the meaning, to trust that obeying this duty is the best way to conduct my life.

Realistically, currently, I don’t do this job very well. I have a feeling no one honors this duty perfectly, but in my own lazy, distracted attempts, I wonder about why I need to keep at this day in and day out. It’s difficult, tiresome labor. I sacrifice each day on this Earth that I give to this job. I can’t see for certain how much good my work is doing for other people. I cannot see how I’m getting paid, or if I’m getting paid. Or if I need to get paid; if I deserve it.

The job begins at daybreak and ends when I crash on my pillow for another evening of sleep. There’s zero off-time. I wonder what I’m missing by taking this job. Then I remember that I do this job poorly. Maybe I barely do it at all. If I trusted its meaningfulness, if I cast off all my discontentment and envy and gave myself to God and his commands of love and surrender, day in, day out; perhaps then I’d see that I am perfectly content—and thus pleased—to do the right things of God and see the joy in this. I’ve had brief glimpses register in my spiritual senses and whisper to me that this way is Truth, but I have never fully given in, never pursued this affirmation for any consistent time. I don’t trust it entirely, that it is good to relinquish myself to God and his commands.

I think it would be best to acknowledge my discontentment, but to dive in and immerse myself in hope in God, to trust that He can lead me in ways that can redeem truly unsatisfactory aspects of our world, and that He can also lead me away from the immediate, glittery, enticing things in front of my human eyes that only seem meaningful in and of themselves.

I’m afraid and supsicious, forever hesitant, so I cannot reaffirm that the Teacher tells the truth. But maybe someone else could hollar out an “Amen” in response to the Ecclesiastes Author’s conclusion? Has anyone here seen that this is The good Way?

In addition, I ask this: Can we stand solidly on an understanding that fearing and obeying God is beautiful and perfect and ultimately meaningful? Or do we take a leap of faith from the meaningless rocks we cling to when we obey the Teacher, and only hear an occasional, Truthful whisper of affirmation in the gusts of wind that sweep us as we fly or fall to our ends?

My minister preached aobut his two Sundays ago and said something I had never thought about that changed my mind aobut some things. He was preaching about the parable of the workers, you know, that annoying one where the workers who started at the beginning of the day got paid the same as the ones who started at the end of the day. My minister pointed out that the parable angers us because we somehow feel that the workers who started late in the day got the better eand of the deal. That is certainly the way American society portrays it, that the best life is one in which you work little, get paid much, and, as Grant points out, have a wide screen television. Rev. Nelson pointed out that purposeful work is often its own reward. I think this is partly what Stevo is getting at, but I think the mistake (if there is one) is in assuming that happiness is the reward — a kind of quid pro quo for believing heartily in God. It seems to me that maybe that is getting the cart before the horse.

I’ve been reading some John Donne lately. If ever there was a life full of pain and no reward, it was his. The guy was dirt poor for much of his life, married his beloved Anne against the wishes of her father, and got thrown in jail for it, when he eventually persuaded her father to let the marriage stand, he was denied the chance of employment. He struggled along, trying to feed their children for years. Finally, when he was about to get a good job, accepted into the church as a priest, his beloved wife died. He had ten years of service to the church before he died. There isn’t a lot in that life to be happy about, and I doubt that he lived a life with much happiness in it. But when you read his biography and his poetry, you see a man with increasing purpose and meaning in his life. I’m not saying he understood everything, far from it, but he did live a life with meaning, far more so than those in eccleciasties who are striving after wind.

One more thought. It seems to me that the corporate vision of Christianity that Stevo describes is rooted far more in the television society that Grant describes (and its distortion of the Biblical vision) than it is in the Bible. No wonder. Television and advertisings messages are all over the place. When we live in the middle of it all, it is hard to sort out the truth.