Making Light of It

My friend, John, has a blog that is heavily trafficked. John is controversial. He can be both charming and aggravating in the same post - the same sentence even. Since getting to know him over the past two years, I attribute a lot of intelligence to John. I think he has an important skill: the bravery to speak his mind, no matter how sensitive the subject. He has a deep love for the American Church, so, of course, many of the entries on his blog read like little expose's on the myriad of problems in the Church and sub-cultural American Christianity. And the comments come rolling in. It's a popular Xanga blog - you can check it out; the link is under the "Blogs I Read" section of my sidebar. John is very popular - I gauge this by how many people read his blog.

And then there is me. If I'm lucky, I'll get a comment or two on every other post I make on my blog (normally just a friend's greeting or a quick "I enjoyed it"). Granted, I'm longwinded, a bit moreso than John, so I assume it is rare, in our Mach 3-paced world, that anyone who wanders into my blog actually gets through even one of my entries. When I write about something, it isn't a quip - it is detailed. Do not get me wrong, I am thankful for any feedback at all, however brief. Truthfully, some of the greatest things have come from a short comment on my blog ...

What I am wrestling with in this post is simply the desire to be more controversial. Looking back over my blog entries, I have noticed how unsexy (not with-the-times) my topics are. Silence, Laughter, Wonder, Writing, etc. When I find myself awash in the glitz and immediacy of this voyeuristic society we live in, such topics are not very interesting. We want conflict, we want controversy. Here at Truett, the most interesting things to talk about are the hot-button issues: women pastors, inerrency of Scripture, the Baptist schism, Southwestern vs. Truett or SBC vs. CBF, Republican vs. Democrat, homosexual vs. heterosexual, etc. ... There are countless things that can cause the blood to rise and bubble with excitement. The desire to speak out and proudly brandish a position on whatever issue is not hard to indulge.

I am not adverse to discussing such issues - nor am I ignorant of them. I could write and write and write about them, and this blog would fill up with so many positions in which, through my words, I barrel out my chest and hold my head high. And perhaps then the comments would pile up with each new entry ... But then, would there ever come a solution, let alone a resolution? To be honest, whether there came a resolution or not, would my mind be at peace? Would my soul find itself further along in sanctification? Perhaps ... but perhaps not.

I want to dwell in the hidden places - those forgotten, darkened corners this world has deemed uninteresting. I want to mull over what they might call mundane. Scrapping and nagging over issues might be one valid way to experience the world, but it seems like stressed-out running. When I am considering these hidden things - laughter, beauty, future glory, music, redemption, the wonder of the small - I feel no stress, no tightness. I feel as if I am flying. As if I am transcending this world, a world far too consumed with what ultimately does not matter and will not deliver happiness.

So let me continue to receive little feedback and no controversial disagreements. Let me continue to dwell and take joy in the hidden things, the quiet things behind the racing buzz of this over-reaching society.

Let me be as Pierce Pettis describes God and His follower in the song, "You Move Me." You go whistling in the dark - making light of it, making light of it. And I follow with my heart, laughing all the while.