Wednesday, May 30, 2018

Polite Conversation

          When I was a boy I was held to what I thought was a rigid standard in the use of grammar.  Verb tenses had to match subjects.  Sentences did not end in prepositions.  Participles were not intended to dangle.  And “ain’t” wasn’t a word.  While my mother sometimes seemed overly finicky about verbiage, I learned from her that what one says matters.  Words carry weight.  “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words [can and do] harm me.”
            A story: a mother was trying to teach her son about the lasting impression of words.  Her son had developed the terrible habit of name calling, using words to spite everyone toward whom he felt anger.  In order to disabuse him of his habit, she reprimanded him by having him hammer a nail into a fence post for every unkind word spoken.  After some time had passed the fence post became a porcupine of nails, with barely an open spot for a new one.  But as the fence post became crowded, his mother came up with a new tactic.  She began to take note of any kind or thoughtful word her son spoke, and as he did, she instructed him to go and pull out a nail from the post.  Gradually, as the lesson began to sink in, the fence post lost its metallic mane until it was once again bare.  And when that moment came she accompanied her son to the post and pointed out the nail holes that had been left behind.  “Just so,” she said, “the harsh words you have spoken may be gone, but the scars they created remain.”
            The words we say matter.  They build up or they tear down.  They edify or they profane.  The Bible gives a couple of admonitions in this regard ---

“Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.” 1 Thessalonians 5:11 

On the other hand . . .

“If, however, you bite and devour one another, take care that you are not consumed by one another.” Galatians 5:15   

            In his book, Civility:  Morals, Manners, and the Etiquette of Democracy, Stephen L. Carter makes the case that civility is a kind of social contract, an agreement to make sacrifices in order to live together.  We agree to obey the speed limit in order to travel safely.  We agree to stand in line for our turn at the arena ticket window.  We allow certain invasions of individual privacy in order to provide greater security for all.  And among these agreements, Carter would argue that civil discourse is a sacrifice we make for the greater good.
            This is the point that critics of political correctness have missed.  Politically correct verbiage came into being in order to be respectful of others, to be kind, to be thoughtful, to give people the benefit of the doubt – in other words, to “encourage one another and build each other up.”  To put it simply, politically correct language can more reasonably be compared to “polite conversation” – a kind of sacrifice that we make in order to live together, and I would add, to live together peaceably.
            Opponents of political correctness have been having their day, or decade, lately, as it seems they feel permitted to say whatever they want to, no matter who it hurts.  Instead of arriving at openness in dialogue, such conversation only drives a wedge between people.  Instead of the simple truth, we end up with conflicted opinions and opposing sides.  Instead of collaboration, we end up on either side of the aisle in Congress with few venturing to extend a hand to the other.  It seems to me that critics of political correctness have simply given permission for all of us to be rude and hateful to each other.  And I would add the scriptural caution, that if we bite and devour one another, we may be consumed by one another.
            So, I am unapologetic about being politically correct.  I believe such polite conversation leads to greater civility in society.  And for my part, it makes me feel like I’m following Jesus more closely when I encourage others, and try to build others up.  We can still speak the truth, but we do so in love (Ephesians 4:15).  And we might avoid all making all those holes in the fence post.

Tuesday, May 29, 2018

Retirement!

     Hard to believe but my official retirement date is just over a month ahead.  In retrospect, thirty-three years have flown by, although in the middle of those years I often doubted that this day would come.  There were years filled with tears, for sure, but all in all I have been far more blessed than I have blessed others, more grace experienced than given.
     Still, ministry is hard work.  I came out of seminary with the delusion that working for the church would be a kind of paradise experience.  After all, weren't we all followers of Jesus, the Beloved?  Then I was immersed in my first congregation and found messy, messy lives.  Eugene Peterson says it best, and I'm paraphrasing, but we should not be surprised that there are problems in the church because there are sinners in the church.  And, Peterson continues, if that weren't bad enough, they have sinners for pastors.
     I have been surprised by the meanness of Christians.  I have been appalled by the attitudes of some of Jesus' followers.  I have been ashamed by the actions of people who represent Christ.  There are times I have grown discouraged.
     But there is another side to church life.  I have been surprised by the depth of spirituality of ordinary people.  I have been the recipient of untold kindnesses.  I have been amazed at the self-sacrifice that many Christians are willing to make for the sake of someone else.  There may be sinners in the church but there are saints as well, and I have been privileged to serve among them.
     Privilege is the right word.  While the work is hard, ministry is also a privilege.  People invite me into their homes and tell me their darkest secrets and deepest hopes.  I have been present at the significant moments in the lives of families - birth, baptism, confirmation, marriage.  I have walked with people through the valley of the shadow of death.  I have held the hand of a weeping mother, unable to come to terms with her alcoholic son.  I have baptized a young man in a river, and countless babies in the presence of the faithful.  Meals have been brought to me by dear people, simply because they had me on their minds.  I have had the opportunity to share my heart's wildest hopes in front of congregations every Sunday, and they came back again the next week to listen again, and amazingly, again and again.  Mine has been a life of privilege, indeed.
     There have been sacrifices made to live this life.  I have not chosen where to serve or where to live.  All of that has been chosen for me.  I have had to be flexible.  I have sought to be incarnational, like Jesus - adjusting to my circumstances rather than changing the circumstances to suit me, yet trying to be a witness to the kingdom, whatever the circumstances.
     I have hopes for the years ahead, of course.  I have many projects, plans, trips which have been on the back burner for a while now and I relish the opportunity to spend more time with family.  And now that I DO have weekends off I may end up writing a bit more than I've been able to in recent years.  (I may have to change the name of this blog, however!).
     In any case, thank you for reading.  I'll have more to share in the days ahead.