Disenchanted Faith
Theologian Richard Beck argues that Scooby Doo may be the perfect cartoon for summarizing what life is like for a person of faith these days.[1] I used to watch Scooby Doo when I was up early getting ready for our 6 AM junior high basketball practice. Most episodes unfolded the same way. Shaggy, Fred, Daphne, Velma and Scooby Doo either stumbled into or were called into a mystery. Some ghost, monster or supernatural creature was causing chaos. The kids and the dog investigated. And, after getting the daylights scared out of them, they finally figured out that the creature wasn’t a spook. It was a human pretending to be a creature in order to scare people away from his or her criminal hijinks. Once the gang realized this, the authorities were called in and the person was arrested. And the criminal almost always lamented in the end, “And I would have gotten away with it, if it hadn’t been for those meddling kids!” What started seemingly as an instance of supernatural activity was unmasked and turned out to be an instance of human criminal activity.
And this is what has happened in our Western culture according to Beck (who is quoting another theologian named Charles Taylor). He uses two words to describe this: enchanted and disenchanted.[2] An enchanted world is a world where the supernatural is present. Good and evil spirits and beings fill the world. It’s the world at the beginning of every Scooby Doo episode. A disenchanted world is a world where the supernatural is absent. No good or evil spirits or beings fill the world. It’s just us humans. It’s the world at the end of every Scooby Doo episode. Our culture has moved from enchanted to disenchanted.
In the 1500’s, the default belief for most people was enchantment. Most people believed that God and the devil were real and active agents in the world. But today, the default belief for most in the Western world is disenchantment. That is to say, disenchantment is easier to accept for most than ever before–the belief that God and the devil are not real, or at least are not active agents in the world. It’s easier for many today to believe in the world that Scooby Doo ends up with than in the world that Scooby Doo starts out with.
What is particularly troubling for Beck and Taylor is that many Christians are making this move as well. For many Christians, life has become disenchanted. God may still be real for them. But he’s no longer viewed as one who is intimately involved in the affairs of life and the world.
How many Christians right here, I wonder, are afflicted with disenchanted faith?
- The events of this past week, may lead us to feel this way. Shootings and tragic violence in Louisiana, Minnesota and Texas may leave us feeling like our country is disenchanted.
- Sometimes suffering leads us there. Our heart breaks just one too many times and we are led to conclude that God isn’t engaged in this world like we thought.
- Sometimes unanswered prayers lead us there. Our prayers rise unheeded one too many times and we conclude that God doesn’t want to be involved anymore.
- Sometimes the news leads us there. We see one too many murders or one too many injustices. And we conclude God is no longer on the job. We conclude that the world is disenchanted.
The book of Esther seems to have been written for this struggle. It seems designed to help us know how to live with God when God seems so distant and disengaged. It seems to exist to equip us to nurture a relationship with God in the midst of experiences that often make us feel that God’s not even close enough for a relationship.
The Hebrew words for God are not found anywhere in the book of Esther. For this reason, no commentaries were produced by Christians on Esther for many years. And the Essenes, by some respects the most theologically conservative of Jewish sects, refused to even have a copy of Esther among their sacred scrolls as out in the desert by the Dead Sea. Holy people, both Christians and Jews, have refused to have anything to do with Esther because, in it, God seems too distant and too disengaged. The world almost seems too disenchanted.
Others couldn’t stand to leave God so marginal and they scripted a more central part for God in Esther. For example, some other ancient manuscripts of Esther include the addition of the words Esther prayed before confronting the King about Haman’s plan to destroy her people:
“Queen Esther, Seized by the anguish of death, fled to the LORD. Taking off her splendid robes, she put on the robes of distress and mourning…Then she entreated the LORD, God of Israel, saying: ‘My LORD, You alone are king. Help me who am alone and have no help but You, for I am taking my life in my hands…’”[3]
Similarly, in one addition, the book ends with Mordecai spelling out God’s presence in this way:
“Mordecai said, ‘These things are God’s doing…For the LORD has delivered his people and rescued us from all those evils. God has worked great signs and wonders such as have never occurred among the nations…”[4]
But as the text stands in most Protestant Bibles, God is never mentioned explicitly.
He is present. That is clear by Mordecai’s key statement:
“And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” (Est. 4:14 ESV)
God has been involved in all of the seemingly disenchanted stuff of this story from beginning. But it’s been behind the scenes. It’s been hidden. And what Esther explores is this: how do we live in relationship with God in a context where he often appears to be absent and often appears to be hidden, even though he isn’t? How do we live with God in a context that seems disenchanted, even though it isn’t?
Purim for the Disenchanted
Esther’s ultimate answer to those questions is, ironically, the festival of Purim–a time of celebration and great joy. They eventually conclude that the best way to live with God in a world that feels disenchanted is to engage in the habit of celebration:
16 Now the rest of the Jews who were in the king’s provinces also gathered to defend their lives, and got relief from their enemies and killed 75,000 of those who hated them, but they laid no hands on the plunder. 17 This was on the thirteenth day of the month of Adar, and on the fourteenth day they rested and made that a day of feasting and gladness. 18 But the Jews who were in Susa gathered on the thirteenth day and on the fourteenth, and rested on the fifteenth day, making that a day of feasting and gladness. 19 Therefore the Jews of the villages, who live in the rural towns, hold the fourteenth day of the month of Adar as a day for gladness and feasting, as a holiday, and as a day on which they send gifts of food to one another.
20 And Mordecai recorded these things and sent letters to all the Jews who were in all the provinces of King Ahasuerus, both near and far, 21 obliging them to keep the fourteenth day of the month Adar and also the fifteenth day of the same, year by year, 22 as the days on which the Jews got relief from their enemies, and as the month that had been turned for them from sorrow into gladness and from mourning into a holiday; that they should make them days of feasting and gladness, days for sending gifts of food to one another and gifts to the poor.
23 So the Jews accepted what they had started to do, and what Mordecai had written to them. 24 For Haman the Agagite, the son of Hammedatha, the enemy of all the Jews, had plotted against the Jews to destroy them, and had cast Pur (that is, cast lots), to crush and to destroy them. 25 But when it came before the king, he gave orders in writing that his evil plan that he had devised against the Jews should return on his own head, and that he and his sons should be hanged on the gallows. 26 Therefore they called these days Purim, after the term Pur. Therefore, because of all that was written in this letter, and of what they had faced in this matter, and of what had happened to them, 27 the Jews firmly obligated themselves and their offspring and all who joined them, that without fail they would keep these two days according to what was written and at the time appointed every year, 28 that these days should be remembered and kept throughout every generation, in every clan, province, and city, and that these days of Purim should never fall into disuse among the Jews, nor should the commemoration of these days cease among their descendants.
29 Then Queen Esther, the daughter of Abihail, and Mordecai the Jew gave full written authority, confirming this second letter about Purim. 30 Letters were sent to all the Jews, to the 127 provinces of the kingdom of Ahasuerus, in words of peace and truth, 31 that these days of Purim should be observed at their appointed seasons, as Mordecai the Jew and Queen Esther obligated them, and as they had obligated themselves and their offspring, with regard to their fasts and their lamenting. 32 The command of Queen Esther confirmed these practices of Purim, and it was recorded in writing. (Esther 9:16-32 ESV)
The text reminds us that the word describing the feast of “Purim” comes from the pur or purim which Haman cast in order to determine the date on which the Jews would be annihilated. And, according to vs. 20, Mordecai “records” or writes down “these thing” in his letter to the Jews of the empire. What are “these things”? It must be the events which have transpired since Haman first cast his pur.[5] Mordecai does not want to assume that any Jew fully understands just how active God has been. He knows that it may appear that God has been disengaged. So he takes the time to spell it all out. And six times in the text, one word is used then to describe how the Jews responded:
| Mordecai & Esther | “confirm” Purim through the writing of a letter | vv. 29, 32 |
| Mordecai & Esther | “obligate” the Jews to practice Purim | vv. 20, 31
|
| The Jews | “obligate” themselves to keep Purim | vv. 27, 31 |
This word “confirm” or “obligate” does not refer to one person imposing his or her will upon another. It’s not Mordecai or Esther imposing their will on the Jewish people. Instead, it refers to the confirmation of a decision that’s already been reached.[6] It’s as if, having read all that Mordecai has written about how this God, who seemed to have been so hidden, has acted through all these events, the people unanimously agree that what’s called for is celebration and gratitude. Their natural and voluntary response to now seeing what had gone previously unseen–God at work behind the scenes–is a joyous celebration. Thus, collectively now, they bind themselves to this annual holiday called Purim.
This makes Purim radically different from the five Jewish feasts commanded by Moses in the Torah. Those were demanded by God and by Moses. They were required. They were imposed upon the people. Purim, however, was the “spontaneous response” of the people to the work of God.[7] Rather than top-down, this was bottom-up. It was the natural result of realizing that this word, so seemingly disenchanted, was, in fact, enchanted.
Five times Purim is simple called a day of “gladness” or joy. That’s the heart of Purim. It is a time to celebrate. A time of gratitude. A time to see and celebrate what at first was unseen–the hidden work of God that resulted in the salvation of his people from Haman.[8] It was a time for reflecting joyously on what God had done. Purim allowed the people to see that God actually had been at work even though they may have missed that work when it first happened. And it allowed them to celebrate that work and take joy in it.
In a world which seems disenchanted, habits like Purim help us see it as enchanted. One of the primary reasons for making Purim more than a one-time celebration, for making it an annual festival, like Passover, was that the Jewish people needed, and we continue to need, a habit that allows us to see the world as enchanted when it so often feels disenchanted. We need a way to awaken ourselves to the fact that God is present when it so often seems he may be absent. This is what Purim did. It celebrated how God used ordinary events and how God worked behind the scenes to bring blessing to his people. In a world that seemed disenchanted, in a world that seemed like God was distant, Purim allowed the Jews to see the world once more as enchanted. It allowed them to see the world as one that was truly infused with God, filled with God. And it allowed them to celebrate that presence and work.
This is why the book of Esther and the festival of Purim were so often read and kept by the Jews during the Holocaust. If there was ever a time that felt disenchanted it was the Holocaust. But the book of Esther and the habit of Purim enabled those Jews in the Holocaust to see through the veil and to once again realize that even there God was present and active.
Modern Day Purim
The heart of Purim might be summarized in what Dallas Willard called the spiritual discipline of “celebration.” Willard said that the spiritual discipline of celebration is the most overlooked practice among Christians today. And it is the most misunderstood practice among Christians today. Too many Christians, he said, think of celebration as too “hedonistic” because we think we’re not supposed to enjoy our Christianity. [9]Yet the spiritual discipline of celebration allows us to see the world as enchanted even when it seems disenchanted. Cultivating a habit of celebration, which is all Purim was, allows us to recognize that God isn’t as distant as he may seem to be, God isn’t as absent as he may appear to be. Practicing the habit of celebration and gratitude allows us to recognize that God is present and active even in the most ordinary and mundane ways.
Ann Voskamp writes about this in her book One Thousand Gifts. The book begins with the tragic story of the death of her sister. Ann remembers the effect of that death and how it rippled through her life and her parent’s lives. It created within her a bitterness and a great unease with God.
Eventually Ann sought some way back to life. Someway back to God. That way was celebration. The more she poured over Scripture the more she realized that the one fundamental call is for us to live lives of celebration. Although she still grieved the loss of her sister, perhaps by finding reasons for joy she could find a way to move forward. She decided that she would try to find 1000 things for which she was thankful. She began writing in a journal even the smallest gift of God received that day. Her list Included things like the sound of book pages turning. The sound of boys humming hymns, the sound of wind rushing through an open truck window, or the sound of laundry flapping in the wind.
And what she found was that this constant celebration for even the smallest of things was transformative. Not only did learning to be thankful for the little things in life help her overcome the pain of her sister’s death, it also helped her to experience a fundamentally better way of life. We might say she learned to see her world once more as enchanted when it seemed so disenchanted.
In his book The Good and Beautiful God (70-71) James Bryan Smith writes about his practice of having people sit down every week and write out 100 things for which they are grateful that week. They are not to write down the obvious things like friends and family and God and Jesus. They are to reflect harder. He encourages them to include things like warm cookies, a dog wagging its tail, and clean socks. These, too, are the results of God’s activity in our lives. And as we celebrate 100 things every week our disenchanted become enchanted.
The point is that by adopting a habit, a discipline, of celebration in which we obligate ourselves to mark, record, remember and celebrate God’s activity in our lives and in our world, we suddenly realize that this disenchanted world is actually enchanted.
In 2007 Disney released a film entitled “Enchanted.”[10] It told of a Snow White type of princess named Giselle who was plunged from her idyllic animated kingdom of Andalasia into the gritty real world of New York City. There, she met Robert, a cynical divorce lawyer who was all realist and very little romance. Every time Giselle talked to Robert about things that were normal in her enchanted world of Andalasia like true love, and trolls, and fairies and animals that talked, Robert would dismiss her as crazy. But slowly, Giselle began to help Robert see that his world of New York City was more than he’d ever imagined. He watched as she trained two doves to carry flowers to his girlfriend, as she led all of Central Park in a song festival, and as a battle for good and evil played out one night involving Giselle. This world of New York City, he realized, was far more enchanted than he’d ever known.
What our country needs are people like Giselle. People who in a true and biblical way can help others see that our cities and streets are not as disenchanted as they may seem. Help them see that we still live in an enchanted world, a world where God is still present and active.
What our country needs are people who can respond to these crisis not with despair and not with violence but with the abiding joy and hopefulness that comes thru a conviction that ours is still an enchanted world. And the habit that feeds that is celebration.
[1] Richard Beck, Reviving Old Scratch, 13-15.
[2] James K. A. Smith, How (Not) to Be Secular, 1-78.
[3] John D. Levenson, Esther The Old Testament Library, 84.
[4] Levenson, 134.
[5] Michael V. Fox, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther, 117.
[6] Fox, 118.
[7] Karen H. Jobes, Esther The NIV Application Commentary, 213-214.
[8] Notice that Purim did not occur on the anniversary day of the battle itself, the day on which the Jews battled against their enemies. Purim occurred on the anniversary day after the battle. It was a kind of Sabbath. (Jobes, 221). The word “pur” or “purim” is actually a Persian word. The Hebrew equivalent, goral, is used in other places in the Old Testament (e.g., Ps. 16:5-6) to refer to the way in which God provides our “lot.” Just as the Persians used the word to refer to something assigned by the gods (e.g., the date for the killing of the Jews) so the Hebrews used it to refer to things given by God (e.g., land, blessings, etc.). The festival of “Purim,” therefore, simply by it’s name, was a kind of “double entendre” signifying that the lot or destiny of God’s people would not be deterred mined by Haman’s gods but by Yahweh. (Jobes, 214-215). And with it’s emphasis on feasting in a book that centers on ten feasts, Purim thus points us forward toward that great Christian feast of the Eucharist where we joyfully celebrate that greatest work of God’s among us. (Samuel Wells, 89)
[9] Dallas Willard, The Spirit of the Disciplines, 179-181.
