Chalcedon Blog

Some theological writers fear simplicity. They're scared to death of it, in fact. They fear being too easily understood--"I won't be perceived as smart, if people understand what I'm writing on the first pass!" Despite the consistent rebuke by qualified experts, eggheads continue to wear out their thesaurus in search of the rarely-used word.

Simplicity is strength, and the greatest pieces of literature known to man are relatively simple. No greater example exists than the Bible, with it's relentless use of subject-verb-object. What "smart" people miss is that the simpler statement is usually the more profound:

"Jesus wept." ~ John 11:35

For the soul willing to ponder them, these two words are loaded with meaning. Complexity should be developed in the mind, not the page. Try not to do the thinking for me; let me think for myself.

Jack Trout lists some humorous examples of how we can easily distort some of our most classic aphorisms (Aphorism means "pithy saying." Pithy means "expressing with force"):

Pulchritude possesses profundity of a merely cutaneous nature, or beauty is only skin deep.

It is not efficacious to indoctrinate a superannuated canine with innovative maneuvers, or you can't teach on old dog new tricks.

Visible vapors that issue from carbonaceous materials are a harbinger of imminent conflagration, or where there's smoke, there's fire.

A revolving mass of lithic conglomerates does not accumulate a congery of small green bryophitic plants, or a rolling stone gathers no moss.

If you think you have something important to say, try to state it in simple terms. Don't you want to be understood?