Ian M. Anderson

Where have we been so far? In my introductory post,  Toward a Manifesto of Silliness , I wrote that I asked my family: "What makes silliness important?" The first answer: Silliness Is a Sign of Joy . Today, we're meditating on our second answer: Silliness is important because we are silly. As I explained about the first answer, this one also found me at a loss. It was a probing kind of answer, and, as we'll see in later posts, it's where I'm headed with all this nonsense. But hang with me here for now. Isn't the circular nature of this answer fitting? Silliness is important because we are silly; we are silly because it's important. As an argument, this circular kind rests at the peak of hilarity -- it's silly. And yet, the very nature of what we're discussing here requires a deep presupposition that can't be explained anyway. So we're fine with circular if you are. "Look around you," my son seemed to say. "Aren't WE s

In my introductory post,  Toward a Manifesto of Silliness , I wrote that I asked my family: "What makes silliness important?" A second passed, and one of my sons said, "It's a sign of joy." When I ask questions of my family -- my sons especially -- I anticipate what they might say in the hope of finding some wisdom to impart, of finding a teaching moment. This rapid-fire answer caught me off guard. I don't know why, really, but I wasn't prepared for the speed at which he answered or for the force of the answer itself. JOY! He may as well have shouted it. Upon reflection, I don't know what I was prepared to hear instead. Yet here I was, receiving wisdom unawares; it was the kind that strikes you on the mouth -- and you smile at the truthful ring of it. Of course! I've had time since then to think about what the little sage said, and I keep coming back to this promise God made to his people long, long ago through the prophet Zephaniah: "On tha

Recently, my thoughts have turned to silliness. It all began when my eight year old son and I sat together on the couch, he on my lap. We spent a while goofing, mostly laughing at nothing. Afterward, a question stuck in my mind: Why was that so good? It's not as though we hadn't been together lately, we had -- plenty. Thus, for several days on end, at odd moments here and there, I've been thinking about nonsense, tomfoolery, laughter -- in a word, silliness. In fact, I'm becoming quite serious about it. Other questions have arisen: How might Jesus view silliness? What Scripture passages come to mind when I'm thinking this way? Is there such a thing as a theology of silliness? I also asked my family about it. "What," I said one night at dinner, "makes silliness important?" I did realize as I asked the question that I assumed the importance of such a thing, but none of them skipped a beat. We came up with the following: 1. Silliness is a sign of jo