Abraham Piper thinks so.
Abraham is an astute observer of the Christian blogging community. And he has a hunch as to why:
To assert that all men are brothers, that prejudice and racism are bad, and that nature should not be despoiled may win a writer points in heaven, but it is doubtful that these pronouncements will quicken the reader’s pulse.
Piper is probably right. I know no one who would accuse Mere-O of being a very ‘exciting’ place to read, even though I think that we’re up to something worthwhile.
But someday, I’m going to write a defense of being boring. It’s the arch-vice for our endlessly amused culture, and it might be–might be–one way of bearing witness against the vapidness of the world around us.
I by no means claim to be a “veteran” blogger but, after doing it for around five years, I’ve seen a lot. I’ve seen people stress about their blogs alongside stressing about their families and their ministries. I think there is a place for analyzing and discerning doctrines and trends within evangelicalism, but when every blog reads the same, I find myself growing weary of the whole thing.
I agree with Brent about how redundant the Christian blogging community is, which is why I probably have fewer friends in it than I might otherwise. I have never seen the point of writing what I thought could be found a dozen other places online. And while I’m pretty sure everything that I’ve written could be found elsewhere, I haven’t found that place yet.
But the more important point Brent makes is that blogging is essentially vain. And while he means that in the sense of ‘pride,’ I actually think the Ecclesiastes notion of ‘vanity’ is a better description: empty, meaningless, chasing after the wind.
Good conversations in blogging are increasingly rare. It’s mostly words, words, and more words, with very little substance and depth. We can only survive in the shallows for so long–eventually, we must head off to the depths, to the books and the treatises and the classics.
But when I get overly cynical about being online, I stumble across a post, a conversation, a robust exchange of ideas in an edifying way that makes me think this is why we blog.
This week, that thought occurred as I was reading Mere-O. And for that, I am extremely thankful.