I know it's hard to be original
In fact nothing scares me more
Because Jesus only lets me do
What has been done before
Sometime back, David Bazan (of Pedro the Lion and Headphones ilk) penned these interesting words in his song, "Selling Advertisement." Being original, if we are honest with ourselves, is a terribly lofty goal - I mean, honestly, discovering that thing, that idea, that thought, that movement that has yet to be displayed in the human race is impossible. Even as I write this, I seem to be channeling my inner-Nick Hornby, my inner-Rob Bell, and/or my inner-Dave Bazan for style, rhythm and content. Thus, writing about originality is not very original.
Being original is scary. Being belly-deep in that status quo is safe. Seeking the "new" or the "fresh" means that you have to embrace the width and depth of common thought (which is often narrow and shallow) to discover a missing or neglected component and pressing it for understanding. It's scary because the risk is unknown. Many will question its validity (Is this true?), others will question relevance (What does this have to do with me, here and now?) and some will question the motivation (What is he/she trying to do or prove?).
As one who spends a great deal of time reading and teaching the Scriptures, I find originality both a blessing and a curse. It's a blessing because the sacredness of the text, the depth of the text, and the art of preaching drive me to place of radical understanding and faith and I desire that the community taste and see that. It's a curse because some do want to go there - regardless of self-awareness, the status quo is safe and easy to swallow.
I've spent the greater part of fifteen years laboring in the local church as a pastor, listening to peoples stories and questions, reading and teaching the Bible, and seeking understanding around every corner. Along the way, I've observed a few things: 1) I am not always satisfied with what is on the surface - I want to know the story beneath the story and the story beneath that story. Deep within lies life beyond the status quo - it takes a great effort to get there but the fresh taste is remarkable. 2) There are others out there who want the same thing. They have listened faithfully in the pews for a lifetime but sense there is more to the narrative than three points that all start with the letter "s" and poem discovered by the preacher in last months Guideposts. They recognize the profundity and complexity of life and their palates are desiring foie gras in an institutional world muddled in dry Cherrios. 3) Finally, there are others who struggle with change. The "new" or "fresh" is fine every now and then, but why fix what is not broken. Being original can be perceived at best as being pedantic and at worst being egotistical. Thus, the originator must decide whether or not the risk is worth it and note whether or not their skin is thick enough to take the comments, the critiques, and the whispers of doubt.
The Scriptures have much to say about this topic. For example, the Qoheleth reminds us that there is nothing new under the sun which ought to inform us that there is nothing truly original - with some focused research, it can always be traced to another, in another time, in another context, with other results. In the New Testament, the Apostle Paul spoke eloquently to his young prodigy Timothy, when he wrote that a time was coming when people would desire to gather teachers who would teach them what they wanted to hear to appease their itching ears and who would be willing to set aside truth for myth. Maybe this is what David Bazan was getting at: 1) being original means that you might not be what they want to hear and 2) we only do what Jesus lets us do (since he allowed it to be be done before).
Being original asks tough questions - here are some: 1) will there be others with you?, 2) is it worth sacrificing the rest?, 3) is that the role of the teacher?, 4) is this about faith seeking understanding or is this about you and your personal agenda?, 5) do you have thick enough skin to endure? The world seems to be teetering between the common and the new. Pressing to be original is scary - the easy route is to simply wade in the pool of the status quo and avoid risk even when you know you'll never swim outside the kiddie end of the pool. But really, you never really swim in the shallow end, you stand and walk. But are you swimming? Swimming is the act of taking your feet off terra firma and doing the unnatural. Perhaps that is the definition of being original...
