Peanut Butter

Isn't it remarkable how effortless nonsense is?

One day last week, my students wrote in their journals a judgement: Which character in The Scarlet Letter is the most evil? A ponderous cogitation preluded a tenuous commmencement of composition . . . i.e., it took 'em a while to get cranking on this topic.

The next day, these same students wrote in their journals about peanut butter -- yes, really -- anything that came to mind about this glutinous, protein-punched sandwich spread. Once the shock of being given such a random topic wore off, they wrote furiously. I fancied the smell of smoke rising from pens scorching across pages. And then, lo! and behold -- they wanted to share what they'd written. They wanted to talk about it. They wanted to take a field trip to find some JIF.

The difference? Simply put: one was totally frivolous and fun, and the other was spiritual and serious. They struggled with addressing issues of sin and guilt and condemnation; but they eagerly shared their favorite h'ors d'oeuvre recipes and tales of sack lunches.

When we should "let there be no . . . silly talk, nor levity, which are not fitting" (Ephesians 5:4), we blow it. We forgo discussions of spiritual truth and edification of one another in favor of stuff that just doesn't matter. We read Harry Potter and Popular Mechanics instead of Ephesians. We sing "Listen to Your Heart" and "Mississippi Girl" instead of "How Great Thou Art." And we talk about what's on the lunch menu instead of what's on our hearts.

Oh, for the day we hunger for spiritual food rather than a sandwich.