I’ve been hanging out on a blog by a crazy accordion player called, Brant Hansen. Here’s a piece from his blog, Letters from Kamp Krusty:

Nothing is quite something — a very attractive something. People long for it; even admire it. (One lawyer friend told me over coffee, “I hear what you’re saying, about not working like crazy to buy stuff, and I want to live like that. But — forgive me — you’re the only one I know who actually does that.”)

In this culture, “nothing” sticks out like crazy, like a…light…on a hill, or…something. It wasn’t just those two guys. Our neighborhood knew we were odd. The dad’s home a lot, walking around with his daughter, catching lizards? The mom is home a lot, too, talking outdoors with us about the ducks? They waste time together. They waste time with us. Something’s odd, here…

So: Nothing made a man think about God. In the U.S., right now, maybe that’s not hard to explain. We did nothing, and nothing is shockingly out of place. Nothing means not everything, not running around infernally, not getting our kids this-lesson-and-that, not trying to sustain a lifestyle we “want” — but not deep down.

Maybe Jesus’s offer of “rest” is not an “after your dead, rest in peace”-type rest. Maybe it’s a lifestyle, now, that invites other people out of the maelstrom.

Here’s to nothing. I don’t want to sound cocky about it, but I can do nothing pretty well.

Hmm. Funny that he should pick up on my recent theme of simple community. I think I’ll save my fingers a little trouble and recommend you surf on over to is Krusty’s place and see what he’s talking about.