Somewhere along the way, a lot of us got the idea that following Jesus is supposed to feel like a never-ending group project where you’re the one doing all the work.
Sure, you’re technically on a team, but it’s mostly just effort, stress and a lot of talking about how we’re being “refined.” The joy part? The lightheartedness? The fact that we’re literally following a God who turned water into wine and liked hanging out at dinner parties? That somehow got lost in the mix.
Maybe that’s why so many Christians are exhausted. We talk about the joy of the Lord but we live like faith is a burden, like the more tired and serious we are, the holier we must be. We’ve convinced ourselves that fun is for vacations and secular hobbies, not for spiritual maturity. But that’s not what Jesus modeled.
The same God who wept with his friends also attended weddings, made breakfast on the beach (John 21:9-12) and told his disciples to become like children (Matthew 18:3). That doesn’t sound like someone who wanted faith to be a life of constant pressure.
So why do we act like fun and faith can’t coexist? Somewhere in Christian culture, we picked up the idea that joy has to be earned. That if we’re not doing enough for God, we don’t deserve to enjoy ourselves. Maybe it’s the influence of old-school Puritan work ethic. Maybe it’s youth group guilt-tripping about whether we’re praying enough. Maybe it’s just that we don’t know how to function without feeling like we constantly need to be doing something.
But biblically, joy is never treated like a reward for good behavior—it’s a natural result of knowing God. In Psalm 16:11, David says, “In your presence there is fullness of joy.” Not just a little joy. Fullness of joy.
Galatians 5:22 lists joy as a fruit of the Spirit, which means it’s supposed to be a defining characteristic of Christian life, not an occasional bonus when we’ve worked hard enough.
And let’s talk about celebration. The Bible is full of it. Ancient Jewish festivals? Giant, days-long parties with feasting, music and dancing (Leviticus 23). The early church? They broke bread daily in each other’s homes (Acts 2:46). Heaven? Described as a wedding feast (Matthew 22:2). Jesus’ first miracle? Keeping the party going by turning water into wine (John 2:1-11). Yet somehow, modern Christianity has been reduced to quiet coffee shop devotionals and the occasional potluck.
Of course, faith isn’t just about chasing good vibes. Life is hard. There’s suffering, injustice and grief. But that’s exactly why joy matters. Fun isn’t an escape from reality—it’s part of what makes reality bearable. Nehemiah 8:10 reminds us, “The joy of the Lord is your strength.” Not the stress. Not the endless pressure to be better. Joy.
When Paul wrote to the Philippians from prison—a literal Roman jail cell—he told them, “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!” (Philippians 4:4). That wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. Not because Paul was ignoring the realities of suffering but because he knew that joy is what keeps faith from becoming unbearable. If Paul could find joy while locked in a cell, what excuse do we have for treating faith like a never-ending chore?
So what does it look like to bring fun back into faith? Maybe it’s re-learning how to celebrate—actually celebrating, not just putting on a “God is good all the time” face and calling it joy. It’s playing games with friends, eating great food, throwing a dance party, singing loudly in the car, appreciating the ridiculousness of life. It’s recognizing that following Jesus should feel alive, not like trudging through an endless checklist.
For some of us, that might mean letting go of the guilt that sneaks in when life is too enjoyable, when things feel too easy. For others, it might mean actively choosing joy even when it doesn’t come naturally. But at the very least, it means rejecting the lie that faith should always feel heavy.
Jesus never called us to a life of obligation. He called us to abundant life (John 10:10). And if we’ve lost sight of the fun in that, maybe it’s time to start paying attention again.
