Wisdom is not distant or abstract but is present beside God, both as a master craftsperson and as a playful child. This dual image invites us to embrace both structure and spontaneity in our lives, refusing to be squeezed into a binary of seriousness or playfulness. Just as a jazz band keeps time while allowing for improvisation, we are called to hold steady hands at the workbench of life while also making room for delight and wonder. When we allow both craft and play to coexist, our faith becomes more vibrant, trustworthy, and life-giving, enabling us to flourish without crushing creativity or letting wonder drift away. [39:16]
Proverbs 8:27-31 (ESV)
"When he established the heavens, I was there; when he drew a circle on the face of the deep, when he made firm the skies above, when he established the fountains of the deep, when he assigned to the sea its limit, so that the waters might not transgress his command, when he marked out the foundations of the earth, then I was beside him, like a master workman, and I was daily his delight, rejoicing before him always, rejoicing in his inhabited world and delighting in the children of man."
Reflection: Where in your life do you feel pressured to choose between being serious and being playful? How might you intentionally invite both craft and play into your day today?
Delight is not a performance review but a permission slip to experience joy in all moments, even the ordinary and imperfect ones. Whether it’s a giggle during communion, a dropped piece of bread, or a spontaneous joke, these moments of delight make our faith tangible and alive. When we create space for joy, we also create space for others to feel safe, seen, and welcomed, allowing our community to breathe and flourish together. Practicing delight in small ways helps us to be present, to improvise with grace, and to recognize the sacredness in everyday life. [41:13]
Psalm 16:11 (ESV)
"You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore."
Reflection: What is one small, playful act you can do today to invite delight into your routine, and how might sharing it with someone else change the atmosphere around you?
Holding multiple faithful images of God—builder, child, mother, father, wisdom—broadens our understanding of the divine and makes space for more people to recognize God’s nearness. When we allow our language and imagination about God to be generous and inclusive, we resist narrowing both our faith and our experience of life. This wideness helps us to see God’s presence in new ways and to welcome others whose stories and perspectives may differ from our own, making our community more compassionate and whole. [37:42]
Isaiah 66:13 (ESV)
"As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you; you shall be comforted in Jerusalem."
Reflection: What image or metaphor for God resonates with you today, and how might embracing a new or different image help you see God’s presence in your life or in someone else’s story?
Communities flourish when they intentionally make space for those who have been at the margins—children, elders, newcomers, and those whose stories are often overlooked. By centering delight and participation for all, rather than just the polished or planned, we honor the unique fingerprint of our community and expand our possibilities. This practice asks us to notice whose joy is prioritized and whose stories wait at the edges, inviting us to create more breathing room for everyone to belong and contribute. [43:44]
Luke 18:16 (ESV)
"But Jesus called them to him, saying, 'Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God.'"
Reflection: Who in your community or circle might be waiting for an invitation to share their delight or story? What is one way you can make more room for their voice this week?
Intentional play and shared joy are not just pleasant extras; they are essential practices that build resilience, creativity, and connection within ourselves and our communities. Even small acts of play—telling a joke, doodling, humming a tune—can heal, strengthen bonds, and help us face challenges with courage and kindness. Naming and sharing delights, especially in difficult times, is a gentle refusal to let heaviness have the last word, and over time, these practices stitch us back together and help us remember the tune of hope and togetherness. [50:23]
Philippians 4:4 (ESV)
"Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice."
Reflection: What is one playful or joyful practice you can commit to doing on purpose each day this week, and how might it help you or your community breathe a little easier?
Today marks the beginning of a three-week journey into “Radical Play,” an exploration of how play, delight, and joy are not just frivolous extras but essential means of grace. In a world weighed down by violence, grief, and uncertainty, we are invited to hold space for both lament and delight, recognizing that joy does not deny pain but can coexist with it, offering hope and resilience. The invitation is to be present—to breathe, to notice, to awaken to wonder, and to belong exactly as we are. This belonging is not conditional on having all the answers or being in a certain emotional state; it is wide and welcoming, making room for both our questions and our faith.
Drawing from Proverbs 8, we see wisdom as both a master craftsperson and a beloved child—two images that refuse to be forced into a binary. Wisdom is present with God at creation, both building and playing, holding together steadiness and improvisation. This duality is like a jazz band: each musician listens deeply, keeps time, and yet leaves space for improvisation and surprise. The music breathes because no one hoards the air; it is relational, shared, and alive. In the same way, our life together as a community is called to hold both structure and play, seriousness and silliness, craft and wonder.
Language matters. When we allow our God-talk to be broad and inclusive—holding masculine, feminine, and non-binary images—we make more room for people to recognize the nearness of God in their own lives. Narrowing our images of God narrows our experience of life and faith. But when we let wisdom be both builder and child, we find a way to live that is both trustworthy and flourishing, where making does not crush and wonder does not drift away.
Practically, this means making room for delight in our routines, noticing the small joys, and sharing them. It means centering those who have not been centered, listening for the quiet gifts, and letting our community breathe with both structure and improvisation. Joy and play are not just nice feelings; they broaden our capacity, build resilience, and train us to notice possibility and strengthen bonds. The invitation is simple: once a day, on purpose, do one small act of play. Name it, share it, and let it stitch us back together, healing what is torn and refusing to let heaviness have the last word. Like a jazz band, let us keep time together, pass the lead, and make room for surprise, so that delight can enter our homes, our sanctuary, and our world.
Proverbs 8:22-31 (ESV) — 22 “The Lord possessed me at the beginning of his work,
the first of his acts of old.
23 Ages ago I was set up,
at the first, before the beginning of the earth.
24 When there were no depths I was brought forth,
when there were no springs abounding with water.
25 Before the mountains had been shaped,
before the hills, I was brought forth,
26 before he had made the earth with its fields,
or the first of the dust of the world.
27 When he established the heavens, I was there;
when he drew a circle on the face of the deep,
28 when he made firm the skies above,
when he established the fountains of the deep,
29 when he assigned to the sea its limit,
so that the waters might not transgress his command,
when he marked out the foundations of the earth,
30 then I was beside him, like a master workman,
and I was daily his delight,
rejoicing before him always,
31 rejoicing in his inhabited world
and delighting in the children of man.”
Across these weeks, we're going to explore play as a means of grace, how delight helps us trust one another, it loosens fear and witnesses to God's abundance. So think of it as a gentle arc of receiving joy, practicing holy mischief, and discovering how communal joy can carry us forward. [00:06:07]
I think it's important with the week like we've had in so many different places very close to home and very far from home to have experienced political violence this week to hold out our hope for redemption to hold out hope that people who feel that they have no other option but to lash out our violence can find a different path and that we can be messengers of that hope and that when we feel like we have nothing left that we can hold each other in the midst of that to find ways to respond other than with verbal or physical or weaponized violence. [00:19:06]
As we discuss the role of joy and delight that it it holds power but it doesn't deny the lament and the pain that we carry this week for our neighbors and friends. [00:20:06]
Imagine this: they trade the lead without losing each other at a summer concert in the park. A jazz band locks into a groove—the brushes whisper the snare like paint on silk, the bass walks a spine of notes up and down, and the trumpet steps into the light and the drums are truly to play, and then bows back out of the light so the others can speak and play. There's no sheet music. There's just an instrumental conversation taking place between the instruments and their musicians. [00:32:16]
Discipline keeps the clock while the creativity carries the solos. They listen with their whole bodies to one another, and they offer quick nods and raised brows and small hand tilts that say, you go, you first. And the music keeps breathing like a living thing because no one is hoarding the air. It is relational and shared. [00:32:55]
Many of us live with a squeezed choice into the different roles and places we go into. A binary bind to be serious or to be playful, to hold tight or to let go. And that pressure rides with us into all the different settings. Into the after moments in a parking lot, after work day or after church, into the hum of the headlines as we read them, or the text that you just can't unsee. [00:34:19]
The creation poem in Proverbs refuses that binary squeeze. It keeps a heartbeat cadence before the deep head edges. When the sky found shape, then wisdom is there, close and playful. And that line carries, the line that carries the nearness is simple and strong. Strong as a handrail, beside God, wisdom is beside God. Not far off, not above, but right there with God in the shared presence. [00:34:49]
If wisdom is only a builder, then the world becomes a spreadsheet for the soul and people turn it into a project with a task list. If wisdom is only a child that is at our leg and being silly and curious, then wonder floats off like a helium balloon and the work of shaping life gets sidelined as less spiritual. We don't do the other discipleship work. Held together, blueprint and sandbox at the same time, craft and radical play, the poem sounds like a life that we can trust and we can flourish in and thrive in. [00:38:38]
Wisdom beside God stays near enough to build and near enough to joyfully play at the same time. What might it sound like for us to keep both parts of the song, the steadiness and the play, the certain tune and rhythm along with the improvisation, without losing the tune? [00:39:19]
If the text can carry both artisan and play, it can carry the God, the Creator, as well as wisdom, the justice-seeking playmaker. At the same time, can we? Where would one more inch of breathing room change the feel of the sanctuary? Change the feel of us when we gather together? Change the feel of your week? [00:43:52]
When we pause for something new to happen on the other side like a rest in a measure for that next note to be heard clearer when we stop choosing one lane one way of beating and we choose jazz we live into the form and we lean into the opportunities for improvisation and dance and collaboration and radical play. [00:44:36]
Joy and play don't just feel nice—they literally broaden and build our capacity in the moment. They widen our field of view, they give us more options and more ideas and more spontaneous and radical play, they give us opportunities to see things we don't typically see. [00:45:09]
Practice over time, a playful posture transforms us into a kinder body. We still have steady hands that build but without bruising. We have playful hearts that don't disappear when the conversation turns hard. We keep time together and we still leave space for different people to have the soul. [00:47:43]
Once a day this week, on purpose, not on accident, on purpose, with intent, do one tiny act of play. It can be as silly as repeating some of these jokes to one of your friends. I think the kids' jokes might have been easier to remember. The gummy bears want to stuck with me for years. [00:48:28]
Poet Ross Gay found that naming small delights stitches people back together. It heals us. In his book, The Book of Delights, he spent a year catching one glimmer a day and writing about it. A flower bossing up through the sidewalk crack. A quick, kind exchange with a stranger. Light, leaning gold across his stoop and its beauty. [00:49:51]
Delight then feels honest and not naive, it's sincere in the moment, and over time attention becomes a delight muscle, strength built up in a gentle rest, threading neighbor to neighbor repair by repair, and tiny joys named and sometimes shared mend what's torn. There's a soft refusal to let the heaviness have the last word. [00:50:23]
Keep your practices playful, place surprise into the routine, crack one real minute where the play gets the lead and the world doesn't break because you stopped being serious in the moment. And over time, like a band that knows the form, you'll feel the sway and you'll spot the openings to improvise. [00:50:53]
Proverbs lets us hear creation's heartbeat, wisdom beside God, a moan with two faces, steady hands and a child's grin, and the key of sha ha-shu 'im is delight. When we stop choosing and start living into the dynamics of both and, we want to craft and wonder at the same time. [00:51:32]
So go like a small jazz band this week. Trust the chart and love the riff. Keep time with care and pass the lead with courage. Make room for surprise. And if the heaviness tries to claim the last word, let wisdom teach you to laugh a little, to build a little, to breathe a little, until the room and the week and the world remembers the tune and we find each other. [00:52:00]
Keep the song, don't pour the air, and let delight into your home this week. [00:52:22]
It legitimately heals our brains and heals our bodies. It helps us connect to one another. I am happy to have laughed with you today. [00:55:46]
Friends, wisdom delights beside God, and wisdom delights beside us. Let the Spirit send you to carry delight into weary places, and with the craft of an artisan and the capacity of play like a child. May you bring delight to all you encounter. Go. Be playful makers in the world. We all need more of us to do that. [00:56:14]
I'm an AI bot trained specifically on the sermon from Sep 14, 2025. Do you have any questions about it?
Add this chatbot onto your site with the embed code below
<iframe frameborder="0" src="https://pastors.ai/sermonWidget/sermon/embracing-joy-the-power-of-radical-play" width="100%" height="100%" style="height:100vh;"></iframe>Copy