josh Allan

I’m going to just tell you how this came about. I must apologize up front to all of you who were not raised in some kind of Protestant-ish household, because the first part may not make much sense.

It all began when I was sitting in on a meeting with the pastor of the church-thing I’m part of. Every once in awhile when the music people are in a bind, they ask me to help out, and since I am just an overwhelming sucker (and I really do enjoy it most of the time, to tell the truth), I agree. So I’m in on this meeting and apparently said pastor has decided to do his next message on this thing called “worship.” I have a real problem with keeping my mouth shut lately, so I blurt out that I don’t even know what that word means anymore.

I think a disassociation of meaning happens, it seems, mostly with words that are used frequently, words that carry a lot of weight. These words often have to do with religion or spirituality of some kind, because this is generally the stuff people build their houses on, if you know what I mean. This word “worship” is a word like that for me. I’m not some kind of medieval peasant boy that is required to pay homage to a king in a castle, nor do I ever do anything resembling what I think “worship” must look like with our President. Not to mention the fact that this word has been whored by Christians for probably the last three decades, at least. So yeah, I don’t know what it means anymore.

OK, try to follow my crazy logic here (this is why I care about this kind of crap): if we think in words (and we do, most of the time - try not to), and words represent meaning (which they do), then the words we use, even in thinking, are formative in our understanding of whatever it is we’re thinking about. Make sense?

I just saw a movie called In Good Company, starring Topher Grace, Dennis Quaid, and Scarlett Johansson. Let me be honest with you — I loved this movie. In fact, it was love at first trailer for me. Honest. This is a movie chalk-full of meaning. The way I saw it, there was meaning everywhere: it’s in the dialogue, it’s in the heartbreak, it’s in the (implied) sex — pretty much everything that’s done in this film is done in the name of a desire for meaning.

Meaning is important, to everybody I know at least, and this is why I want my words to mean something. I don’t think words become worthless by being over-defined — instead, they become worthless by becoming over-ubiquitous. Words that once had deep, spiritual meaning are ground to a meaningless dust by being consumed without consideration; they are raped of their dignity by our senseless application of them in any dishonorable way we see fit.

And people that care about meaning are always left, sadly picking up the tattered pieces.

NOTE:
(The concepts found in this post contributed strongly to the writing in my first book, blur: finding jesus in a fuzzy world. Download your free copy here!)