Let me count the ways.
By working online, Bible bloggers place themselves at the intersection of multiple worlds. Bible bloggers who post interesting stuff end up getting pulled into conversations half a world away, conversations they did not start and they will not finish.
Is it necessary to dumb down the content for this to happen? Not at all. Some of my posts drill down into topics which are ignored in the graduate programs of the best universities. Things like the structure of ancient Hebrew poetry and perceptions of its meter and rhythm. Other posts go into the finest detail of questions related to the lexicon of ancient Hebrew, or matters of text criticism of the Hebrew Bible.
Yet these are among the posts which have generated the most interest. Through this or that search engine, in consequence of online discussion or a recommendation from a professor or pastor, they continue to be found and their contents downloaded and printed out day after day. Hard to believe, but true.
John Wesley said, “The world is my parish,” and even if a Bible blogger does not see herself as a priest to the world, that’s what she is. All she has to do is be herself and say interesting things about the Bible, and a cascade of conversation is likely to follow. She becomes a mediator.
A Bible blogger who takes the time to explore other people’s clicking patterns will discover that one post becomes the gateway to others. I have a post entitled Victoria Beckham’s Hebrew Tattoo Patiently Explained. Lots of people come to my blog because of that post. One out of ten click through to the post entitled Let Him Kiss Me with Kisses of his Mouth: Song of Songs 1:2-14. Nice title, don’t you think? I did not have to invent it. One out of a hundred click through to the post entitled So You Want to Learn Biblical Hebrew. Or they move laterally, to the post about Madonna and her song that includes Hebrew and prayer and a shofar rolled into one.
People love poetry. By blogging about poetry and posting translations of biblical poetry, the interest of poets is piqued. One of the most gratifying aspects of Bible blogging for me has been to receive mail from poets thanking me for opening up for them, if only in translation, the world of ancient Hebrew poetry.
People are fascinated by names. By blogging about 144 Names of God in the Hebrew Bible, I figured the interest of others might be piqued. Sure enough, it’s sparked interest. Elshaddai picked up on it (by the way, his blog has the coolest masthead), and who wouldn’t if that was the name their mamma gave them. So did Duane Smith, who has wonderfully abnormal interests. Ros Clarke sounds interested, too. Welcome to my blog, Westminster sem students!
This site linked as well. Quite a site, with interests ranging from Jewish underwear fashion; Reuven Lerner’s splendid Altneuland; Phil Cooke, who asks “is image everything?,” answers yes, and quotes Anais Nin (that’s called finding a lost coin in a manure pile); the Tall Skinny Kiwi, who talks about how to provoke a BlogRush; and the inimitable Leonard Sweet.
But again, what’s so fun about Bible blogging?
It’s fun, most of all, because people love the Bible. It speaks to them. They want to know more, from whatever sources lie at their fingertips.
There is something paradoxical about Bible blogging. We live in a culture that Philip Slater characterized as The Pursuit of Loneliness. The world-wide-web epitomizes that pursuit. It is a lonely place, and yet it is where people seek companionship.
It is like walking into a Starbucks, and watching the non-communication. It is like watching people file out of church in the morning.[1]
“All the lonely people. Where do they all come from?”
Why do people love the Bible? Because they do something that is just plain amazing if you think about it.
They take this book, written by flawed, God-thirsty people of two thousand years ago, and they take their life, and they put the two together. They read it in the attempt to assign meaning to life. They read it and seek a relationship with the Author of meaning.
“Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path. When I feel afraid, think I’ve lost my way, still you’re there right beside me, and nothing will I fear, as long as you are near. Please be near me to the end.”
For Amy Grant’s lyrics in full, go here.
To listen to Amy’s original recording to the music of Michael W. Smith, go here.
[1] This doesn’t happen so much in my church, because the building is designed such that the equivalent of an enclosed piazza lies just beyond the sanctuary, and beyond that, a fellowship hall where coffee and home-made baked goods beckon after worship. And there’s always the parking lot, where people talk for hours, the car doors propped open, their children annoyed, with stomachs beginning to growl.
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