“There is a kind of happiness and wonder that makes you serious.” C.S. Lewis

It was inside a church van in the Pecanland Mall parking lot where my former youth pastor, Jarrett Fix, recommended to me—a music-obsessed, angsty-but-open junior in high school—his top three favorite books: Piper’s Desiring God, an anthology of Edwards’s philosophy, and Calvin’s Institutes (I think in that order).

Hindsight has proved this to be the beginning of probably the most pivotal moment of my life. Following Jarrett’s lead, I read them.

Edwards’s philosophical notes (never intended for publication) marked the start of my love affair with metaphysics and philosophical theology. I was lured in by what I did not yet understand, captivated by the thrill of being on the brink of discovery, and sustained by the breakthroughs along the way. Edwards was a massively intellectual challenge, intimidating at times, but all the while I felt myself being strangely welcomed into the labyrinth of this towering luminary.

Approaching a decade later, I can’t pinpoint a major takeaway from this dense and scattered work, but its influence is still inestimable; I couldn’t believe a Christian could think on that level. Christianity had no real business in higher philosophical thinking, so I thought. Edwards forever buried that notion.

Calvin’s institutes laid the groundwork for a “God-entranced vision of all things.”Soon enough, God was everywhere I looked; he became big, too big to fit in most of the categories I had for him, and I, overwhelmed by it, shrank increasingly small under the weight of such grandeur. Calvin also started to pry open my eyes, unyielding at times, to the beauty of God’s multifaceted grace, especially in salvation. Here Calvin provided an anvil and quality steel; later, R.C. Sproul took up the hammer and, quite relentlessly, beat it sharp.

But Piper. He made me a Christian Hedonist. His book Desiring God drilled into me the life-changing truth that God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him. That truth quickly became somewhat anthemic in my own life, and I still find myself either regularly praying those words verbatim or being, more subconsciously, reinvigorated by them more broadly. God’s pursuit to glorify himself and my pursuit for real, lasting joy are not two disjointed goals; they are one and the same goal. Therefore, it’s neither selfish nor sin for me to seek supreme satisfaction in God alone; it’s actually arrogant and disobedient not to. These are but summary snapshots of what you’ll find in that book.

Piper made me serious about joy, serious about finding the most joy and satisfaction possible from the one who righteously boast of possessing “pleasures forevermore” (Ps. 16:11).

But above these men, I am supremely grateful for Jarrett Fix. These giants were heroes to me through books and screens (not to diminish that at all!), but Jarrett is a better and necessary kind of hero. He was the hero in the messy trenches of personal, face-to-face-ministry with a rather self-assured, something-to-prove type middle schooler and, sadly, high schooler as well. Many can play at pastoring (whether to youths or adults) but so few tackle it with both gladness and gravity, both conviction and compassion. Such was—and is—Jarrett Fix.

He taught me—with characteristic gentleness, patience, and pastoral tact—the foundational gospel truth that others would build upon in his absence: Jesus is the treasure. There’s a kind of faithfulness, steadiness, and love ministers give to their people that nothing in the world can repay. Reflecting on his ministry toward me, I see more clearly the immeasurable and abiding value of a godly mentor, pastor, and friend, of leaving in your wake a gospel-saturated legacy, and of literally reproducing a conviction in another. So I thank you, Jarrett, for sharing that with me, for pouring steel into the backbone of my faith, and for unashamedly heralding a message bigger than yourself, better than us, and more beautiful than all.

I’m even more thankful for the Lord’s providence—the kind of all-encompassing providence that sees to it that the seemingly ordinary church van conversation forever changes the trajectory of a life. You can’t overstate the value of faithfulness in the small, ordinary events of day-to-day life and ministry. Who knows whether or not your words will be the instrument God’s grace uses to put an idolater on the narrow-but-well-trod path of serious joy in God, transforming one’s innate hedonism into something distinctly Christian?

To the ministry of good books and a better minister—I’m always and forever in your debt.

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Landon Jones recently finished his M.Div. at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary. He currently lives in West Monroe, LA, where he attends North Hills Baptist Church. He is currently teaching 4th grade at North East Baptist School, and he intends to soon pursue his PhD in New Testament at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. Follow him on Instagram @_landonjones_