Hinges of History, Wyle E. Coyote, and Gravity Lessons

I never understood how it worked, but it happened every time. Before Wyle E. Coyote held up a sign reading “Ahhhh” or something else in the category of a silent panic, and fell hundreds of feet to turn into a mushroom cloud with the Road Runner smirking and Meep-ing on the bluff above, before all this, he would run at least six feet on air. Then, as he realized there was no ground beneath his feet, he panicked and, inevitably, fell. I always wondered, “Did he fall because there is no ground beneath him, or because he realized it? If he didn’t realize it, could he have walked to the next bluff? Or, if he realized it, but didn’t panic, would he have calmly, though cautiously, continued to use his mind to create ground to walk on? At twenty-four with a Master’s degree under my belt, these questions still plague my mind. And, for the first time, they seem significant.


Last year, a friend and I sat down for coffee and conversation around the emergent church. Both being fans of Cahill, we saw the coming (present?) postmodern era as a hinge of history. The problem is, we live on the hinge, but the other side of the hinge, the land beyond the scenic bluff, doesn’t exist yet. The question beaconing us, as a church living on the hinge is this: Do we try to run back and clasp our weak fingers on the edge of the bluff called Christendom, hoping if we cling long enough and tight enough, we’ll not have to risk? Or, do we step off the bluff and, like Wyle E. Coyote, walk confidently on the air? Or, do we not panic, trust, and begin to create new ground on the other side of the hinge?

I'm in a class called "crafting transformational moments." However, a more appropriate title might be "re-imagining preaching workshop." Even in the class, we find ourselves re-imagining what a preaching class is like. Some days, we seem to fail. Others are glory. We're creating new ground, and I couldn't be more excited for the chance to a) create something new, and b) sometimes let that something new fail - fall - and get up, chalking it up to gravity lessons.