Buried In The Sand

If you haven't read Jenny Simmons' blog (from Addison Road) you are really missing out. Aside from being a great writer, it seems that she is traveling right in the trenches of how this thing we call "Christianity" is failing in the world. I've copied a snippet, but encourage you to read her whole post:

"Don't Look Dummy"

You can’t very well walk around with your eyes closed. Though many try. I meet a lot of religious people around the country who are convinced that trying to raise their kids with a blindfold and earplugs and a chastity belt and ankle cuffs and no access to the real world will protect them from the pitfalls of human nature and keep them a safe distance from all things unholy. The general result of this protectionism tactic is students who have no clue what it’s like to be human in this great big world. They know only one thing, one way, and they cannot relate to anyone else. These are the kids who would have been shocked had they taken a field trip with Jesus. It would have been the most inappropriate field trip of their lives; visiting prostitutes and wedding parties that were overflowing with wine and all.

But honestly sometimes it’s much easier to not look, isn’t it? When I look at everything I suddenly seem so very small. The questions seem so very big. The answers seem so very evasive. And the opinions weighing in seem too plentiful to count. And I find myself asking, is it easier to face the giants of intellect, science, history, culture, and ethics or is it easier to stick my head in the sand, quote a scripture verse, and refuse to delve into anything beyond the pages of my Bible?

Well, it is quite an easy exercise to use my faith as an excuse for closing my eyes to everything else that exists in the world. But the problem is, Jesus didn’t seem to close his eyes. He was sort of out there in the mix of things calling them for what they were: light or dark. And I can almost envision Him walking by a beach full of religious people with their heads buried in the sand, like ostrich do, and Jesus plucking them out (perhaps laughing a bit as the sun stings their eyes), so that they can actually see and interact and get up close and personal with the real world.

But you can’t very well walk around with your eyeballs taped wide open either.

There is a point where so many books, so many authors, theories, movements, agendas, political rants, and esoteric exercises can dilute one’s normal sensibilities. All of a sudden our judgment is gone, lost in the mire of mere human voices and abstract theories that are meaningless. Our eyes can be so opened, consuming so much, that the spiritual is lost on a world that perpetually shoves more and more words into our already saturated brains. What then can a word mean, when it is simply one word among millions? What then can an image mean, when it is simply one image among millions? What then can Jesus mean, when He is simply one among many? There has to be some limit, some boundary that protects us from our own demise.