Follow your bliss. If you do follow your bliss, you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while waiting for you, and the life you ought to be living is the one you are living.1
The Christian Church has entered the season of Pentecost, a festival founded on a story from the New Testament book of Acts which depicts the Spirit descending on a crowd and evoking ecstatic speech in diverse languages. It’s a story that has given birth to movements and denominations – some anchored in the practice of ‘speaking in tongues’, some devoted to the discernment and practice of ‘spiritual gifts’, some waiting for the return of the Spirit and the fulfilment of the Pentecostal promise. Unsurprisingly, this has spawned a reactionary response from the more ‘rational’ wing of the Church which, while not denying the validity of spiritual gifting, has attempted to downplay the ‘ecstasy’ and has put its energy into developing systems and checklists and questionnaires to manage the process of ‘discerning’ one’s gifts. In the first stream, the ‘spiritual gifts’ have become a test of faith and people who don’t ‘receive’ the gift can be seen as not quite complete. In the second stream, the pursuit and identification of ‘gifts’ has become a serious workshop task that often governs the setting of priorities and directions in ecclesial polity, theology and life.
Joseph Campbell (1904 – 1987) was an American writer/teacher who is perhaps best known for his oft-repeated phrase follow your bliss. The phrase is a reflection of his focus on ananda, a state of pure happiness, joy and bliss. Says Campbell,
I came to this idea of bliss because in Sanskrit, which is the great spiritual language of the world, there are three terms that represent the brink, the jumping off place to the ocean of transcendence: sat-chit-ananda. The word Sat means being. Chít means consciousness. Ananda means bliss or rapture. I thought, ‘I don’t know whether my consciousness is proper consciousness or not; I don’t know whether what I know of my being is my proper being or not; but I do know where my rapture is. So let me hang on to rapture, and that will bring me both my consciousness and my being.’ I think it worked.1
How much more liberating is this ‘theology’ of giftedness than either of the classic church streams referenced above! The things that give us life, the things we enjoy doing, the things that stir our passion, the things that give us a sense of satisfaction and fulfilment – why are we surprised to discover that these are the things for which we are gifted? It is sound theology to assert that ‘what makes you come alive’ is an indicator of your giftedness, of the innate abilities with which you have been graced. Whether you believe those graces are ‘gifts’ from the Creator Spirit or a twist of the genetic code, it remains true that the exercise of those talents and abilities feels good, makes you come alive. And it’s not drawing too long a bow to suggest that when we come alive the world around us also becomes more vibrant. It’s a win-win! What is life-giving for us is also life-giving for those around us.
Author, theologian and civil rights activist Howard Thurman (1899-1981) put it this way:
Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.2
Too often in the church, the emphasis on servanthood and sacrifice mediates against the gospel invitation to come alive, as though true discipleship can’t possibly be enjoyable (it has to be hard), and Christian living can’t be fun (it has to be serious). And before we know it, we are caught up in a religious system that is life-denying rather than life-giving. Thank God for people like Joseph Campbell and Howard Thurman who remind us that the core value of the gospel is about life – abundant life – and that following our bliss, pursuing our passions, engaging in the things that give us life, is not just sound theology, but a great way to give life to the people and the world around us.
Is there a danger that this more laissez-faire approach might be abused, and used to excuse aberrant or unhelpful behaviours? Perhaps. But just as the Pentecost story is anchored in community, so the pursuit of our passions needs to be anchored in and accountable to a community. Not as a dampener on following our bliss, but as a corrective when that pursuit puts others at risk, or impacts negatively on those around us.
Could this Pentecost invitation be the opportunity for you to fine-tune or reorient your life direction, your priorities? Consider what makes you come alive. When, in your day or your week do you feel the most life coursing through you? When in your life (even back to childhood!) have you experienced something that made you feel fully alive, fully yourself? What are the things you are good at, what are the things that give you life? Might those passions be indicators of the Spirit’s prompting? How might your pursuit of those things invite others to ‘come alive’, be life-giving for the world around you?
Gently hold whatever springs to mind as you reflect on those questions, and consider if there is an invitation in it for you.
David Brooker (29th May 2024)
OldSoul.blog 
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