Yonder is the great and wide sea with its living things too many to number, 

    creatures both small and great.

There move the ships, and there is that Leviathan, 

    which you have made for the sport of it. 

– Psalm 104:26-27 1979 Episcopal Book of Common Prayer Translation

How many times when my kids asked me “why” did I scramble to find an answer? Every time? If I didn’t have it, we pulled out the phone to ask Google to call one forth from the great semi-reliable online library. Granted, such search missions bring up more than requested and fuel fascinating conversations, but all still in an effort to answer. 

Why?

We say there must be an answer for everything. In our most helpless and unexplainable moments our egos grasp for the catch-all yet incredibly unsatisfying and empty phrase “There must be a reason for everything.”

Sadly, what we mean by this is that there is a purpose for everything. Reasons explain causality but we do not desire cause explained without also direction or purpose.The reason something horrible happens often is that someone did a very stupid thing or made a mistake. But that doesn’t heal a wound or at the least provide a balm. We hunger for purpose behind it, something to justify the pain.

I shared the BCP translation for Psalm 104:26-27 above but I prefer how other translations render the description of the Leviathan:

New International Version: “There the ships go to and fro, and Leviathan, which you formed to frolic there.”

New Living Translation: “See the ships sailing along, and Leviathan, which you made to play in the sea.”

New American Standard Version: “The ships move along there, And Leviathan, which you have formed to have fun in it.”

Aramaic Bible in Plain English: “In it the ships travel, this is Leviathan which you have created to be merry in it.”

Dousy-Rheims Bible: “there the ships shall go, This sea dragon which thou hast formed to play therein.”

This morning I stood in the ocean at a depth where the waves lapped just below my waist. Little minnows schooled around me, flashing their silver sides in the sunlight. Some came close to the surface, daring a slight skip above the water before diving again. They grew accustomed to my trunk legs that rooted into the sand and came within eight inches or so. At first they shied away from my shadow then took it as permanent, fixed, and continued their play all around me.

When a bird flew over, casting its quick shadow, the small fish jerked to attention, alert to the danger before quickly resuming their more relaxed movement once they realized the threat had passed.

For every animal behavior, form, color, or movement, we ascribe an evolutionary advantage. We insist on a purpose to it all. Colors camouflage, warn, or attract. Form allows for easier access to food, faster speeds, or amplified hunting prowess. The play of certain species reinforce community norms and structure, thus strengthening bonds that ensure greater survival odds.

Yes…yes…I hear that and the theories are sound. Well done.

But what of the sport of it? I delight in the idea that God creates for the fun of it. What of the purpose of play? What if the reason simply is FUN?

Whales push their enormous bodies hard and fast through the water, breaching the surface to leap into the air, then crash hard on their sides to generate large sprays of water. How is this so different from my brother at fifty years of age still delighting in running the length of the short diving board to launch his six foot, one inch frame in the air, turning just so as he grabs one knee before leaning back to hit the surface at the perfect angle to soak all of those unlucky enough to be sitting at the patio table? I imagine the juvenile whales below the surface exploding into the same giggles as my own children and niece at the sight of an elder doing something purely for fun.

Imagine if our automatic answer to “why” became “for the sport of it” instead of “because” followed by a rational, meticulously described purpose? Could it be our purpose first is fun? Or love? Merriment? Joy? Exuberance?

We spend hours and days, years searching out the purpose of life, desiring a grandiose answer to justify our experiences and feelings. All along the answer might be “just because.”

Why am I here?

To be merry in it.

What is my purpose?

To play therein.

We like to say God gifts us cocreator status in this world. Would we not be better served in this endeavor if we first thought to create for fun? Think of the freedom and joy it would grant us in the creative process!

I watched a pelican dive in front of me to scoop up its meal, carrying it away in its gullet. Talons work well for other birds that fish, as do sharp pointed beaks. Yet there the pelican crashes head first, great mouth open and wings wide to swallow up its reward. Is that not beautiful and fun to behold?

Next time you sit to create, I commend to you this phrase, “For the sport of it” as your great purpose, not perfection or executing a technically excellent performance. Do not set out to write the perfect sentence or paint a museum worthy scene. Adventure forth, instead, for fun and merriment. Set out for sport.

God knows she did not get every detail perfect when she set the creation of the universe in motion. Afterall, she included humans. And she also included innumerable elements for the pure joy of it. Should we claim our purpose any higher than that of God herself?

Why, Mama?

For the sport of it, my child. For the sport of it.