The Need for Re-Enchantment
The Spiritual Sickness of Boredom and the Need for Re-Enchantment
Recently, I visited a friend’s private museum, where he has a splendid collection of Jeeps—both life-sized and miniature. As I marveled at his collection, I realized that not many people truly collect things anymore. Many accumulate possessions, piling up neglected clutter. They hoard, but this is not the same as collecting. A true collector engages with their collection, appreciating each piece, while a hoarder ignores, neglects, and eventually tunes out their awareness of the excess. A collector is enamored, even enchanted, by their collection, while the hoarder is weighed down by theirs.
The difference between hoarding and collecting is not in the quantity of things but in the relationship to them. A hoarder amasses objects indiscriminately, allowing them to accumulate dust and disorder. The hoarded items lose their individuality, becoming an overwhelming burden rather than a source of joy. In contrast, a collector carefully curates, studies, and delights in each piece, finding meaning and connection in them. The collector is continually engaged, while the hoarder is passively suffocated.
I admire my friend because I see in him a youthful, playful quality that attends all spiritually healthy people. This quality is lacking in many. His collection is not just a display of objects but an expression of joy, curiosity, and wonder—a reminder that true delight is found in engagement, not mere accumulation.
I recently saw this same delight in my grandson. He and his parents have been collecting Pokémon cards together. They are not hoarding them, shoving them into boxes where they will never been seen again. They are spending time, looking at them, organizing them into categories, and finding interesting ways to display them.
Sadly, the art of collecting, whether it be coins, stamps, Jeeps, or Pokémon cards is becoming a lost art, because many have lost the wonder of being alive.
There is a deep spiritual sickness that has settled over much of the post-modern world: boredom. It is not merely the absence of entertainment—something that could almost never happen in our entertainment-driven culture—but a weariness of the soul, a loss of wonder, a dulling of the senses to the grandeur of creation. In Orthodoxy, G.K. Chesterton observed that children, because of their abounding vitality, delight in repetition. “They always say, ‘Do it again’; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony.” Chesterton speculates that perhaps God Himself is strong enough to delight in what we call monotony—that He says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon. It is not necessity but joy that makes Him sustain the world. But we, having sinned and grown old, have lost this capacity for delight.
C.S. Lewis, in his essay On Bicycles, describes four stages of experience: unenchanted, enchanted, disenchanted, and re-enchanted. These stages offer a powerful lens through which to understand the spiritual sickness of boredom and the pathway to its cure.
The Unenchanted Stage: Blind to Wonder
In childhood, there are many things we do not notice because we have not yet been introduced to their magic. A child who has never learned to ride a bicycle sees it as an ordinary object, a mere machine with wheels. Similarly, the unenchanted person sees the world as mundane, never having glimpsed its deeper meaning. This is the person who looks at the sunrise and sees only shifting wavelengths of light but never the artistry of God. Scripture warns against such blindness: “Though seeing, they do not see; though hearing, they do not hear or understand” (Matthew 13:13). The spiritually unenchanted live in a world filled with miracles but remain untouched by them.
The Enchanted Stage: The First Awakening
Then comes the moment of discovery. A child learns to ride a bike for the first time, and suddenly the world opens up in exhilarating new ways. What was once an ordinary object becomes a key to adventure. Likewise, in the life of faith, there is a moment when the world becomes enchanted with meaning. A person encounters the beauty of Scripture, the joy of worship, or the breathtaking realization that the world is not empty but charged with the grandeur of God. This is the experience of the Psalmist: “O taste and see that the Lord is good!” (Psalm 34:8). It is the awakening to wonder.
The Disenchanted Stage: The Loss of Wonder
But over time, something tragic often happens: what was once thrilling becomes routine. The child who once exulted in the freedom of a bicycle ride now takes it for granted. The Christian who once wept at the grace of God now yawns through a Sunday service. This is the creeping sickness of boredom. The world becomes gray, predictable, lifeless. In Revelation 2:4, Christ rebukes the Ephesian church for this very thing: “You have forsaken the love you had at first.” It is a warning to us all. When we lose our sense of awe, we drift into spiritual dullness.
The Re-Enchanted Stage: Seeing with New Eyes
Yet, Lewis speaks of a final stage: re-enchantment. This is the rediscovery of wonder, but now with deeper understanding. The child who once thrilled at riding a bicycle, lost the thrill, and later returned to it as an adult finds not the same joy but a richer one. Likewise, the Christian who pushes through spiritual boredom, seeking God anew, discovers a faith deeper and more mature than before. This is what the Bible calls renewal: “Be transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Romans 12:2). It is the call to regain the eyes of a child, to learn to say once again, “Do it again!” not out of mindless repetition but out of the joy of encountering God’s faithfulness anew each day.
Conclusion: The Cure for Boredom
If boredom is a sign of spiritual sickness, then re-enchantment is the cure. We must learn to see the world with fresh eyes, to rediscover the beauty of what has become familiar. Chesterton was right: “Our Father is younger than we.” He delights in His creation with an eternal appetite for wonder. The question is, will we? Jesus calls us to “become like little children” (Matthew 18:3), not in immaturity but in delight. To battle spiritual boredom, we must cultivate gratitude, seek God in the ordinary, and pray for eyes to see His glory anew.
Perhaps tomorrow morning, when the sun rises yet again, we will not merely see another day but an invitation from the Creator to rejoice. And in that moment, we will not say, “Not this again”—we will say, “Do it again!”