A Blank Page

When Ernest Hemingway was asked the most frightening thing he had ever encountered, the author replied:

"A blank sheet of paper."

Looking for the quote/anecdote above was an interesting experiment in human nature through the inimitable tool that is Google Suggestions. I had the start of it wrong, of course, so as I typed into the Search bar:

"There is nothing more terrifying than"

Google's vast knowledge banks helped to fill in my request with the requests that others had apparently made:

"There is nothing more terrifying than ignorance in action."

"There is nothing more terrifying than an angry sidehill dodger."*

"There is nothing more terrifying than a canoe."

*A "sidehill dodger" or "sidehill gouger" is apparently a folklore creature noted for having "adapted to living on hillsides by having legs on one side of their body shorter than the legs on the opposite side." Thanks, Google.

So that settles that, then.

But before I learned about the terrifying nature of Sidehill Gougers - or, bafflingly, canoes - I was pondering the truth of Ernest Hemingway's statement. A blank sheet of paper, says the celebrated novelist, is the most frightening thing on the block.

I think, if I may put words into Mr. Hemingway's mouth, that what he was referring to was the terror that arises necessarily from the act of creation. When you look at a blank page - or at a canvas, or at the first slide of a PowerPoint document, or even at your beautiful newborn child on the first day home alone with her - you know that you have an entire world to create, you know that you have an infinitely complex job ahead of you, you know that everything that follows must come from within you...

And what the heck are you supposed to do first?

Where do you begin? And how? 

What if it goes wrong? How long will it take me to recognize that there's a problem? Can I trust myself enough to invest in this creation? Can I see it through? Will I fail somewhere along the way?

I've been feeling this fear beginning my new ministry in Lafayette. I suspect that some members of the church here feel it, too. They have been working to create this new kind of church - FCC SouthSide @ Walt's Other Pub, if you didn't know! - for years, and now that it has launched, and now that there is a minister involved, we all have to live up to the dream.

We have to create something out of nothing, and that is surely more terrifying than a Sidehill Dodger.

Except, I seem to remember another story about creating something out of nothing. About creatio ex nihilo, as my Latin-speaking and doctrinally-minded readers will remember. I seem to remember a story about the One Who Created. Moreover, a story about the One Who Creates, Who is creating still. 

God's creative acts didn't end on the seventh day. God continues to create, to shape, to poke-prod-nudge-and-pull. God uses all sorts of things for this purpose - the sun rises and the rain falls, and consequently life is created and sustained. Animals and people are drawn to one another, and consequently life is created and sustained. 

Sometimes, people powered by love from within and Love From Above are able to live out that love in their lives, to provide care and hospitality and welcome to the rest of creation, and consequently, life is created and sustained.

We are never alone in this task of creation, because the original Creator is by our sides and toiling with us. Indeed, each day we join God in creating this great collaborative work called The World. Take comfort and strength in that knowledge, and create within The World ever more joy and beauty. With God as your partner, you can conquer the fear of the blank page, and concentrate on more pressing matters.

Painting of a Sidehill Gouger, Walter Bender, 1972.

Used under Creative Commons Attributions 3.0 License.