A Coke bottle drops from the sky. That’s the surprising introduction to modern society that a bushman gets as he walks through the Kalahari Desert in the 1980 screwball comedy The Gods Must Be Crazy. In the film, the bushman isn’t sure what to make of a bottle falling from a passing airplane, and so he concludes that it must be a gift from the gods. After he takes it back to his tribe, together they try to figure out what to do with it. A musical instrument. A fire starter. Perhaps a cooking utensil. But in the end, they give up. Thinking the gift is more trouble than it is worth, the bushman goes on a journey across the desert to return the bottle to the gods.

All my life, I viewed joy as something like that Coke bottle. It descended unexpectedly from the heavens and fell into my world. And like the bushman, I had been puzzled my whole life about what to make of the gift. I tried various ways to mold it into something I could understand and work with. But when my dumbed-down versions of joy let me down, the whole experience became disillusioning. In my mind, God must be crazy for making the kind of promises that he does. Read more at Zondervan.com

Originally posted on Digitalwalk.net

While I was writing The Myth of Happiness, I struggled to come up with an strong analogy to differentiate between “joy” and “expressions of joy”. I developed an idea that I thought keenly expressed, in real world terms, the fundamental difference between the two ideas. But, try as I might, I simply could not get the analogy into language that was easy to understand. It was too geeky. So, in the final manuscript, I pulled this idea in place of a second that was far more appropriate. However, I still believe, if you can get past all the geek talk, the following analogy can shed light on the nature of joy. I’ll share it here as my book’s equivalent of a “deleted scene”. Rest assured, this is not the sort of stuff that actually made it in the book.

In the computer world, programmers distinguish between two things that they call objects and instances. An object defines how part of a software program, such as a web page or an email message, behaves and looks like on the screen. An instance is an “expression” or “manifestation” of that object; it’s the thing you and I click on with our mouse when we run the software. So, to put it simply, a programmer defines objects in his code; users of the program don’t interact directly with these underlying objects, but instances of those objects. To illustrate, an object is the logic of displaying any web page, while an instance is one particular web page you are looking at.

The distinction between joy and expressions of joy is much like this computer programming example. Joy lives inside of the spirit of a believer, but is revealed through our emotions or states of mind. However, note the difference: these outward manifestations – delight, contentment, and gladness – are not the same as joy itself. Joy is the divine substance underneath.

Not only does this programming illustration help describe the difference between joy and the ways in which it surfaces in our lives, but it also helps explain why joy doesn’t seem to last long. In the software world, objects are a permanent part of the program, while instances last only when the program is running at a given point in time. So, when you turn off the computer, the object buried inside the program’s code is still on your hard drive. But the instance of that object goes away. Later, when you reopen the program again, you are actually working with a new instance of the same underlying object. In much the same way, expressions of joy may not last for long in our lives. Elijah, for instance, can rejoice in the mighty power of God on Mount Carmel on one day, and yet cowardly run and hide into the desert the next. Me too. I can be on a spiritual mountain top after a great worship service. But, my elation crashes and burns after I get into a fender bender on the way home. Joyful expressions can come and go quickly, but the joy flowing through our bloodstream never leaves us.

Originally posted on Digitalwalk.net

I am a late comer to NBC’s The Office. In fact, until two months ago, I had never watched an episode of the hit comedy series. However, after hearing a friend recommend it, I decided to rent Seasons 1-2 from Netflix. I was hooked immediately. I soon found myself staying up late at night making up for lost time in order to catch up with third season of the series.

In my newfound enthusiasm, I began visiting fan-based web sites to get the latest “scuttlebutt” on the show. Yet, as I checked out sites like OfficeTally, I was struck by the enthusiasm, commitment, and passion of the show’s fan base.

The Office is funny and off-beat, but comedy alone doesn’t generate this kind of loyal following. Instead, I am convinced that the show’s pseudo-documentary motif is at the heart of this response. Unlike most shows or films in which there is always a separation between the characters on screen and yourself, the frequent “talking head” interviews of the characters give you direct insight into who the character is and what he or she is thinking and feeling. The end result is that, over time, you actually begin to believe you know these characters as real people. They no longer are two-dimensional characters in a sitcom; they really seem to be friends that you’d like to get to know personally and hang around with.

In our “temp culture”, we are more isolated now than ever before. We go from city to city in search of the perfect job. We stay in jobs for a couple of years and then move on to a better offer. We go church hopping, looking for the next great pastor. As a result, we know our neighbors and coworkers less and less. We form “alliances of the moment” rather than committing to meaningful, lasting friendships. Not surprisingly then, when a show like The Office sweeps in and offers us something we crave (the desire to really “know” someone), we jump on board. The head knows its just a television show, but the heart…

If the church is going to be effective in the “temp culture” that we live in, believers need to be more like Jim, Pam, and Dwight (OK, not Dwight). In other words, we need to be genuine, vulnerable, and endearing as we let the grace and joy of Christ shine through us. That’s what people are really craving.

Originally posted on Digitalwalk.net