What's That Noise?

Saturday. Sofa. Coffee.

I have one of those fancy coffee makers that holds the beans in a a small bin until the preset time comes to pass.  It is my alarm clock, this automatic grinding of the beans by the burr grinder.  It would be the most annoying sound ever heard on a sleepy Saturday morning except that the same grinding releases  the aroma that has been trapped inside the tiny pods to race out of the kitchen and down the hall to my bed, insisting that I get up with the same urgency as an overnight snow in Alabama.  But more importantly, the  grinder releases the grinds  into the tiny cascading, steaming waterfall that pulls that perfect flavor out of the ground bean and eventually into the rich dark pool of my mug.

So all of that has already happened this morning.  And I fed the cat.  Seems like that should be enough for the day. But I am awake now. So I might as well write something.

I have been thinking a lot about writing lately.  This is probably the reason I have not actually written anything lately.

There is something significant about the way many of us communicate these days. It is interesting and funny, in a way.  Also troubling and limiting.  It  is  short-hand, coded, and  its meaning  apparent only to those who think like us.  Only an insider will "get it."  Outsiders may be crushed by the irony.

My favorite examples of this comes from the use (or abuse) of the Bible. In conversation, in sermons and speeches, on social media,  you hear the coded messages.  For example:

"If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land."  

                                                   2nd Chronicles 7:14 

I believe in the truth of this rich and grace-filled promise of God .But here is the de-coded version that some of us intend to communicate:

"If you people, who call yourselves Christian, will admit that you are wrong and start acting like my favored child Bob says,  and seek forgiveness, I will forgive your sin and make your land be the way that Bob says it should be."

If you wear the same jersey and colors as I and  possess the team playbook, you will understand what I mean and shout "Hallelujah."  You will love my labels and covet my bumperstickers.   If you are different than me, you will also understand what I mean, and  get mad, get even, and then just ignore.

What a sad use of a magnificent promise of God.

We use the Constitution and other great writings the same way. And speeches of great orators. We find a remarkable statement of truth designed to move us forward, to advance humanity. We use it and pervert it, causing us to stand still, or perhaps retreat. We are convinced that the author was clearly supporting our way, and indicting the other as evil, or wrong, when truly, the author was attempting to take us, to move us in a different way entirely.  We turn a plowshare into a sword.  How much have we lost?

We are right because all those who agree with us tell us so.

And so we do not think anymore. 

We do not listen anymore. Except to the coded messages.

And anything other than our way is just annoying noise.

But sometimes that noise is a sign of something great brewing. It would be a shame to just stay asleep.  Better get up and see what all the noise is about.  

That's enough writing for the first outing. 

Gotta get up and do something before the game.  RTR

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