Verbal Spewage

My friend Marc and I are supposed to write a blog entry with the same title, and then we’ll compare notes. His site is www.twentymillionthings.blogspot.com if you are interested in reading his rant on 'verbal spewage.'

In terms of my thoughts on verbal spewage, I was going to say that sometimes when we verbally spew on people they quite simply can’t hear what we are saying. I think the key thing in learning wisdom (and I haven’t learned it yet by a long shot) is learning when one should spew verbally and when to keep one’s damn fool mouth shut. That, I think, must be the essence of true wisdom…

I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about churches, for instance, and church leadership. A lot of these ideas and concepts I have come out of my own experiences as one who spent a lot of years in leadership positions. Some experiences were positive—I think we influenced a number of people’s lives for the better—but overall the experience was probably more negative and hurtful. Years after the fact, now that I’ve had the time and opportunities to be healed up, I feel that I have a little distance and some objectivity about those events. I’ve learned a lot, mostly about what not to do, but there are some positives in there as well.

But I have found that not everybody wants to hear my ideas. I have learned over the years that there is a price tag associated with pretty much everything leaders do. If leaders want to maintain the status quo, then there is a price to pay for that. If they want to introduce real and lasting change, then there is a price to pay for that as well. The key thing is, I think, is knowing why you want change; what is it for? What are we trying to accomplish? And then, building enough elasticity into the new processes so that the new thing doesn’t become rigid, formal, and institutionalized. If that happens then we’re right back to where we started.

So a few years ago I was all fired up to try and influence church for change, but I found that in my verbal spewages I probably turned off more people than I turned on to my ideas. There is such a thing as coming on too strong, isn’t there? Even though what we have to say may be good and worthwhile and even what someone needs to hear, badgering them actually is counter-productive in the long run. So now I have to live with that legacy. Even some fairly critical things I’ve written on this blog may have come back to bite me in the end, but it was all part of my verbal spewage process.

So here I am a few years later, perhaps sadder and hopefully a little bit wiser for it. I have learned that it is very hard to convince people that you aren’t a crank because you keep harping on the same things and, for some reason, nobody listens!? We had a guy like this at the church where I was an elder and pastor. All he did was criticize and complain about everything the leadership did, but the strange bit was—he actually made some good points from time to time! But nobody could hear him because all of his verbal spewage. He had permanently soured people against him, and all it did was create a vicious cycle whereby he was increasingly frustrated—and every opportunity he had he let everybody know it.

The scary part for me was that the other day I had a bizarre thought—I wondered, am I turning into this guy? Bizarrely enough I think I can actually see how he got started, and it makes me appreciate—just a bit—his point of view. But I definitely don’t want to end up like him. Somebody said that if we don’t truly love other people and treat them with respect, then no matter what we say, it’s as if we are covered with clanging gongs and cymbals. Can’t hear what you’re saying because the crashing in my ears is too loud!

Perhaps that is the secret to verbal spewage—we can say the hard things that need to be said, but only if the other person absolutely knows that we love them and wish the best for them. Then the other person may actually listen… and we may learn as much in the process.

A Dublin Cabbie’s Take on Organized Religion

Back in February I was over in Dublin for a teaching job interview (I didn’t get the job, by the way). But beyond the gruelling experience of the interview itself, I learned far more on the ride to the interview itself. With a random cab company the hotel recommended, I had scheduled a drive in a cab the evening before to ensure that I would get to the interview on time.

The cab driver picked me up at the hotel bright and early the next morning, and we set off. Now it is true that the Irish have ‘the gift of the blarney’ and this particular driver was no exception. A very friendly cabbie, this guy could—as the saying goes—talk the hind leg off a donkey. Once he found out I was clearly not from Ireland or Britain—my American accent giving me away—he then proceeded to ask me just what exactly was I, an American, doing in his fair city. I replied I was going for a job interview teaching practical theology for a certain organized church found in Ireland. Then it all kicked off…and things became very interesting.

‘Organized religion!’ he said scornfully. ‘Don’t get me started on that subject.’ But start in he did, and proceeded to tell me the story of an experience he’d recently had with organized religion. It seemed that he himself was a devout atheist and had been as long as he could remember, though he was raised by a devout mother. His wife, however, was a believer and, though they didn’t attend their local church, wanted all the advantages for their children. So they attempted to enrol their daughter in a certain church-affiliated Christian school, and that is where the trouble all began.

In order for the school to accept her, she had to have an officially church-recognized baptism. This, they reasoned, should be fairly easily resolved. So they called their local vicar responsible for their parish and asked when they could schedule a baptism for their daughter, (who by the way had become a believer by this point). While they weren’t regular attendees of their local church, it was the one in their neighbourhood. But the priest, while sympathetic to their plight, replied that it was his sad duty to inform them that he would not be able to baptize their daughter at this particular time.

I interrupted the non-stop narrative. ‘Let me guess,’ I said. ‘The priest said that your daughter was too young to be baptized?’ ‘No,’ he retorted. ‘You’re not going to believe this—the priest said she was too old!’ ‘How old is she?’ I asked, thinking to myself—how old does a person have to be in order to be considered beyond the baptizing age? ‘She is 8 years old,’ replied the cabbie. ‘Eight?’ I said incredulously. ‘The priest said that she was too old to be baptized at eight?’ ‘You know it, my friend,’ he said with a philosophical shrug of his shoulders. ‘But the story gets better…’

It seemed that this particular priest said that he could be persuaded to baptize their daughter—though it was highly unusual—if she went through some type of baptismal classes first. ‘But,’ said the priest with some regret, ‘The class doesn’t start for another four months, and then it runs for twelve weeks. But even after that, I’m booked solid for baptisms for a few months past that. The soonest I could squeeze it in would be in about six months and oh, by the way, it’s going to cost you 150 Euros for the service.’

But the daughter needed to be baptized sooner than that in order to get into the school. Was there any way the thing could be expedited more quickly? The priest thought for a long moment and then had a revelation. He knew of another vicar in a parish across town who just might be able to squeeze them in quicker, if he put in a good word. ‘Of course,’ hinted the priest, ‘things might go a bit easier for you if you were actually members of my church, but then what can we do. Such is life.’ However, he was willing to put in a referral with the other vicar. They were able to set an appointment for the baptism within a month.

But the cabbie wasn’t finished. ‘Believe it or not, the story gets even better,’ he said, shaking his head. He and his wife were friends with another couple who were in a similar situation. This couple had a daughter who also needed to get baptized to gain entrance to the same school! While chatting to his friend, the cabbie mentioned that they had found it quite difficult to get their daughter baptized by their local priest. The other man said with a laugh, ‘We talked to the priest just yesterday and our daughter is going to be baptized there next week!’ ‘How can that be possible?’ asked the cab driver. ‘The priest told me he was booked solid for baptisms for at least six months! How did you get in for next week on such short notice?’ ‘Well we are members of the church and attend regularly. Maybe that makes a difference, but who knows how these things work?’

By now we were nearing our destination. As he pulled up to the curb to drop me off the cab driver turned around and said, ‘You know, I’m not against organized religion as such. But my God, they do make it awfully hard sometimes for an average guy like me to want to set foot in the door. I wish you all the best with your church. I guess with religion you can take it or leave it. I think I’ll leave it.’

I have to ask myself… is it any wonder the guy was an atheist?