Several years ago when I first started blogging I wrote and posted almost daily. I slowed down from that but I still posted regularly for two or three years. Then my postings became more and more sporadic. Now I post maybe once every three months. There are
reasons excuses for that.
I didn’t tell anybody that I was blogging at first. Now there are some followers who know me. There is a certain freedom in being unknown. You can say exactly what you think without worrying about hurting the feelings of someone you care about, or worse making them mad at you. That sounds like I don’t care about the unknowns who read me. That’s not true. But there is a freedom in being the Lone Haranguer. I think you understand what I mean.
I think my blogging is to some degree a form of therapy for me. I can get the thoughts out of my head that are bouncing in there that I’m not sure are right. I can experiment with ideas. I can be outrageous, clever, funny. Well I can pretend to be. Don’t tell me otherwise. Allow me my delusion.
One of the things that has slowed me down is the thought that I might be wrong. I guess there’s hope for me if I still recognize that I could be wrong.
I feel a certain malaise that becomes a determined resistance to writing. I’m not sure where that comes from. I guess I should allow for the possibility that it’s just laziness. But I do seem to want to live a life of happy mindlessness. Maybe it’s because the world as it is now is just to hard to think about.
Anyway that’s where I am. I write more than I post. I do think I need to change that because I do at times feel a gentle nudge to do this. Sometimes it becomes a lot more than a nudge. I don’t want to make it sound like I’ve been called to some important mission. Still I think I have some things to say that aren’t being said or are not being said loudly enough. It scares me to think in terms of ‘I’m on a mission from God’. But maybe I am. Maybe we all are.
That brings me to the following post that I wrote and didn’t post a few weeks ago. An example of my radical leanings.
If you are a military commander the wisest thing you can do is choose where to fight. I am afraid we have allowed our enemy to pick the field of battle. The conversation has come to be about same sex marriage and nothing else. The name of Jesus is never mentioned. Satan would much rather us battle the issue of same sex marriage as to say the name of Jesus.
If you are standing in front of someone who’s soul is in the balance it doesn’t matter what he thinks about same sex marriage. The one thing that matters is what he thinks about Jesus.
What would happen if that was the only thing that mattered to us? What if someone were to ask me where I stand on the issue and I instead ask what he thinks about Jesus? I would be accused of avoiding the question but really I’m not. I’m ignoring the question. There’s a difference.
If the time is truly as short as it seems then we must save as many as we can and talking about that issue will not do it. The only thing that matters is Jesus.
Imagine the shear audacity of it. We determine to take our stand on nothing but the name of Jesus. There are some metaphors that don’t completely work, that almost seem sacrilegious, but I’m going to use them anyway. What if we put all our eggs in one basket? What if we bet the farm on Jesus? In poker they call in ‘all in’. We shove all our chips to the middle of the table and say ‘I’ll stand pat on this hand’ and the world says ‘but you’ve only got one card’. And we say ‘Yeah but it’s a really really good card’.
PS: There are obvious flaws in my suggestion. Somebody asks me about same sex marriage and I say ‘what about Jesus?’ They say ‘Jesus didn’t talk about homosexuals.’ and I’m back where I started. So actual practice doesn’t work out. I think what I’m proposing is more point of view, state of mind. What if I saw the main thing, the one important thing as Jesus, Son of God, Savior, my Redeemer, Prince of my peace? What if we were as in your face confrontational about who Jesus is as we are about same sex marriage?
All of us have a road before us and we try to walk it, to walk it straight down the middle. But the church in general and each of in particular stagger drunkenly from one ditch to the other, from grace to judgement.
I will continue to try to walk down the middle of that road in perfect balance, in perfect harmony with God. But if I wander (and I will) I want to wander toward the ditch of talking about Jesus rather than talking about same sex marriage. I want to risk the ditch on the ‘love’ side of the road rather than the ditch on the ‘judgement’ side of the road.