Words and Hearts...
Sometimes writing is...slow.
My 2nd cup of the Elixir of Knowledge sits next to me along with a side of rye toast. All three of us look at the screen.
I'm willing my fingers to do something. Anything.
I've eaten the rye toast.
That's not what I had in mind but it's a start.
Words. I need words. Just some...
Now that's a flashback. Yeah.
Sniglets were invented words used to describe certain things or events. I think they started on "Saturday Night Live" 30+ years ago.
There is an inherent problem with sniglets. If you didn't know the culture or the time, they don't make any sense. Here's two of my favorites that need context or they're just...well...stupid.
"Wondercide - what you do to white bread with hard, cold butter."
If you hadn't seen Wonder Bread in it's polka-dotted wrapper, (fortified with 12 essential vitamins 'cause there's no nutrition in there whatsoever), you'd react like TechnoBoy just did when I told him.
"(forced laugh) Funny."
And here's my other favorite.
"Retrocarbonic - you put your dime in the vending machine, the soda streams out, THEN the paper cup falls."
The dime gave that one away, didn't it?
And I just got the same response from TechnoBoy. 0 for 2.
The Elixir floats a thought up from the depths. Context and the translation of that strange language, "Christian-ese".
I grew up with my hip pockets firmly planted on a wooden pew every Sunday. I learned the language and could follow along. Not divinity-level fluency, mind you, but I could catch the drift.
Today, people see movies like "Noah" and figure it's in the Bible. Stone angels and all. They've never read the Book or been to Sunday School.
They have no context for Christian-ese. To them, it's like sniglets from a bygone era.
Maybe that's why He taught in parables. All those stories that made crowds occasionally murmur "Ohhh. I get it.". Stories told so people would understand.
That's why He lived, laughed, cried....and died...among us.
So we would have context to understand God's love.
I was talking to my neighbor, Brad, who pastors a church in town. We're having a cup of the Elixir of Knowledge, (that's the fundamentalist version of sharin' some brewskis). and the conversation wandered into the realm of church worship.
Hymns vs. choruses.
Hymnals vs. overheads.
(Not quite the Packers and the Bears, but still a pretty good rivalry in some congregations.)
He started to laugh, remembering one Saturday night.
(Here's some context - his congregation is built of people new to the faith, who met the Lord after walking through the doors of the church.)
He was leading worship. The words of the chorus were up on the screen. A big man, recently born forever, stood tall in the front row. His thick arms were raised to Heaven with ham-sized hands open to receive.
His craggy face looked awestruck, his eyes closed tight.
Just worshiping. Just loving Him.
Of course, with eyes shut it makes it difficult to see the screen. Or the words. And his rough voice growled out a slightly different version of the song.
"Wooly is the Lamb. Wooly is the Lamb that was..."
The Christian-ese, the proper words, that'll all come later.
The context is there. His heart's in the right spot.
And I hafta think that God was smiling. And lovin' it.
"Wooly is the Lamb."
There's gotta be a sniglet to cover that.