Choosing Words

Tongue-tied. That’s how I have found myself lately. Despite the fact that I have read a lot of words; listened to a lot of words; and even said a lot of words about all that is going on in our world, every day I am more convinced that I know nothing. The world seems ablaze with words and thoughts. It feels as though every sentence out of our mouths could be used against us to draw lines around ourselves and others. And I am not one for choosing up sides; so I find myself retreating a bit from the battle.

It might be a good thing. Shakespeare’s famous quote applies well here. “A fool doth think he is wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool.” Part of the reason I am quiet is that I know I have much to learn on the subjects controlling our current news cycles. I know that I am not as aware as I need to be about how racial inequality is terribly rampant in our society. And, I am not a doctor and can’t claim to understand the way this virus is wreaking havoc on our world. I know that I don’t know. So, I stay quiet.

I am finding, though, that I am not the only one. Many of the conversations I have had in the past week have begun with these words, “Well, I don’t want to say the wrong things so I’ve decided not to say anything…” or ” I just don’t feel like I know enough to contribute to the conversation…” And suddenly, I am rethinking my strategy.

The book of Ecclesiastes, written by the wise King Solomon, reminds us that there is “a time to keep silent and a time to speak … a time for every matter under heaven.” And those are good and true words. We need to be good listeners. We need to pay attention to those around us and be willing to learn from those who are different. But in this time of severe polarization where everyone is terrified of being misunderstood, I think we also need to learn how to be good speakers. We need to put into practice what I used to tell my boys when they were little: Use. Your. Words. But, not for the sake of looking wise or fighting for our cause. No, for the sake of bringing back the art of conversation, for the sake of establishing relationships, and building bridges.

Because here are some other things that the wise King Solomon wrote in his book of Proverbs, “Words satisfy the soul as food satisfies the stomach; the right words on a person’s lips bring satisfaction” (Proverbs 18:20). And “A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver” (Proverbs 25:11).

Words have power. The ones we say and the ones we hear. We cannot become so paralyzed in our fear of saying the wrong thing that we say nothing at all. We cannot give up participating in hard conversations. We all benefit from seeing the world through the eyes of those who have experienced it differently. But we must be kind and tender with one another as we do this. Blind spots in our lives stay hidden until someone helps us see. But we are fragile beings. Hearts and souls bandaged and bruised; potholed and patched over; held together with cords of thinly veiled smiles and whispered prayers.

Every. One. Of. Us. Even the most confident and successful person you know can crumble under the weight of misguided words and quietly find ways to hide it. And the fruit of the Spirit that matters the most when it comes to our words might be the one we think about the least. Gentleness. It is a strange thought. Laying words down with gentleness might actually give them more power.

Author and pastor, Eugene Peterson points out this word power in his book Eat This Book, “God creates the cosmos with words; he creates us with words; he calls to us; speaks to us; whispers to us using words. Then he gives us, human creatures, the gift of language” (103).

So the question becomes this: what will we do with it? Will we remain silent for fear of saying the wrong thing? Will we speak out vehemently and escalate the argument? Will we think that what we say doesn’t really matter and retreat from the whole thing?

The gift of language is a beautiful and dangerous thing. Yet, I am apt to toss it around unaware of its potential. Until I am weary and weak, and I hear these words whispered over me.

“I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness. I will build you up again and you will be rebuilt.” The Word of the Lord. The Word that became flesh and dwelt among us. The Word that brings life and light into any place it touches. The Word that can find its way into our souls and change everything. It is then that I remember how we are called to speak into all that is threatening to tear our world apart.

When it is our turn to speak, we are called to be salt and light and speak the truth in love into every conversation. But what does that actually sound like in the middle of a regular day with work, kids, and the neverending spin of life pulling at the edge of our brains?

How can we learn to unravel the tangle of our words in these days?

Well, maybe it works best if we ask ourselves some questions first. What do I need to hear today? What promise do I need to be reminded of? What truth have I forgotten or what goodness am I struggling to see?

And then?

We go find it in someone else and tell them. We go remind someone that God loves them, that he sees them, and is with them. We tell someone what good thing we see God growing in them; point out the sacred and the holy. Build up all the people around us, help steady their feet when we see them slipping. We pass on words that sink in deep and fill in holes. And then we watch how God uses those words to begin to heal his land.

“If my people, who are called by my name humble themselves and pray and seek my face ….. then I will hear from heaven … and heal their land.” Maybe the way that we begin to seek the Lord and to turn towards him is by turning towards our neighbors and seeing that they, too, are made in his image. Maybe in learning to wield the power of our words wisely we can break the silence and fill it with the joyful noise of the Lord.

Because it is true. Our. Words. Matter. And we just never know who might be listening.

Alleluia. Amen.