The Power of Words...

They say the Pen is mightier than the Sword.
(It should be noted that "they" was actually Edward Bulwer-Lytton-- a man famous for his bad writing, not his swordplay. But, I digress.)

Unless they are planning to use the pen in some lethal ninja way, I have to believe they are actually talking about the words that eloquently, or not so eloquently, flow from the nib.

Because words have power.

A fact that his central to my indentity and my vocation.
I spend a good deal of thought and time weaving words into... well... how do I say this?... into SERMONS.

I hesitate in choosing that particular word because it is a mightily powerful word.
I didn't realize how powerful a word it was until most recently.

Lately, when people have been talking to me...they have taken great care to avoid this word.
Much the same way some people avoid racial slurs, or vularities, or embarassing topics.
There is this embarassed pause ... their eyes slide sideways and upwards... as if they are searching, searching for an "OK" word to use in its place.

"That was a very good... a ...uh...TALK... you gave today."

Talk? Well, yes, I was talking.
But I hope it was more than that.
More powerful than that.

I really hope it was a sermon.

Of course, one of the definitions of that word in our modern day is "a long, tedious speech" and that is definitely something I hope to avoid. I don't think that is the definition these folks are trying to avoid. I think they are trying to avoid "religious discourse, often on a moral issue, as part of a worship service."

More powerful words in that definition.

Religious. Moral. Worship.

Words that some of us try to avoid because of their power.
Words like...

Spiritual. Church.

Powerful words.

Yes and No.

For words, alone, have no power.
They are just ink on a page.

Words have power because we give it to them.
With our feelings, our thoughts, our intentions, our actions-- we give words power.
Power to hurt. Power to heal. Power to incite. Power to inspire.
Power.

Even those words we all avoid, those hurtful, divisive words of power--
get that power from us.


Just as the challenging, healing, connecting words of power do--
the words of a SERMON
in WORSHIP
at CHURCH.

What's in a word?

Whatever power we put there.

A sermon by any other name might sound just the same,
but would the purpose and the promise of the words remain?

Me?

I prefer the powerful words.

Finding a Fool's Voice

Wow... someone has been conspicuously absent.

A number of possible reasons present themselves.
- I've been too busy, what with my new position, learning the ropes, meeting people, attending meetings, and all that fun.
- I haven't had any pressing issues that needed blogging about.
- I didn't think anyone would notice.

None of which are true. (Well, I have been busy...)

No, the real reason I haven't been around?

I lost my voice.

Horrible thing to happen to a jester.
Oh sure, I speak mime, every good jester does. But, this is something more than that.
I didn't lose my power of speech. (I've been speaking a great deal lately, actually.)

I lost my Fool's voice.

You see, Jesters have a responsibility. They speak the truth to power. They reveal the hidden.
With mockery and mimicry and laughter (and good will, one hopes), Jesters pierce illusions and assumptions.
They tip sacred cows. Dance with the elephants in the room.
That's what Jesters do.

And for that, they need a special Fool's voice.

For the first time in a very long time, I'm having trouble finding that voice.

I remember a time, long ago, when I used to regularly attend an improve comedy show called Comedy Sportz. I loved it. I would play the improve games with my friends all the time. I was good at it. I enjoyed it. And then, one evening, when they asked for volunteers to go head-to-head in an improve game, I raised my hand.
There I was... up on stage, playing a game I'd seen a dozen times, a game I'd played with my friends more times than I count.
The Comedy Sportz athlete "served" the first line my way... and.... and... I froze.
I'm in the spotlight, my friends are in the audience, the crowd is waiting...
and I couldn't find my voice.
My mind was blank.

They give me a second chance...
and I managed to find my voice for all of two "rounds"
and then I sat there under the lights, quiet as a church mouse.

I was mortified. I was embarrased. I slinked off the stage in shame.


Fear is the Fool's natural born enemy, you see.
And this Jester isn't wearing a mask. The lights are up. And there are people out there watching.

It has taken me some time to figure out what truths I can tell, in what way I can tell them, while keeping my head (figuratively speaking.)

I'm back, now. And I've found my Fool's voice.
The show, after all, must go on.

Thanks for waiting.

The Motley Garb - A Fool's Fashion

A few thoughts on fashion, personal style, and vocation...

Once one leaves high school (or perhaps the cliques of college), there just aren't many people willing to tell you what fashion is best suited for you. (Barring, of course, GQ, Cosmo, Mr. Blackstone, Ms. Rivers, those four clowns/slanderers on Bravo, and the entire staff of the Style network.) Even moreso for those of us in the more specialized, rarified public vocations.

Ever the fool, I feel called to do my part to help.
Of course, before we start, I should probably make a few things clear.

What qualifies me to give fashion advice to you?
Not a thing. Zip. Nada. The sum total of what I don't know about fashion could stun an ox. (I love that line-- always good when I can slip it into conversations.)
That being said, I know what I like. I do have a sense of style. Sure its a strange sense, perhaps even a misguided sense-- but it is consistent. My style choices are made based on comfort, cost, costume, and character.
• Life is too short to wear things that are uncomfortable (especially shoes).
• Professional expenses do not cover wardrobe expansions (in most cases).
• Clothes are the "costume" for the role you are called to play--or the one you intend to play, anyway.
• In the end, clothes identify who you are--they denote your unique character-- or they should.
My real qualification? I'm a Fool.
Who but a fool would claim to know more about what works best for someone else, fashion-wise?

So who am I prepared to give fashion advice to?
• Anyone who asks me freely for my fashion opinons and advice (talk about foolish).
• Barring the direct question, I'm afraid I'm going to have to limit my advice to those I know something about.
Male Unitarian Universalist Ministers, 30 to 40 years old, living/serving in the midwest of the United States of America. To be truly fair about this, I should probably limit my advice to those who have come out of the Catholic and Lutheran tradtions, those that have driven cab for a living, and those who are currently overweight (though working on changing that).
Looking over my list-- checking it twice-- I find that I have narrowed the field of people I'm qualified to give fashion advice to down to just one. (That certainly simplifies things.)

My fashion advice?
• Wear hats (the more character they have, the better). Yes, in the pulpit, whenever possible.
• Wear Jeans some times-- but not the blue ones-- the black ones look dressy while still being casual for those "casual" services.
• Wear some sign of your vocation when you are actively/intentionally practicing your vocation and reppresenting your tradition. I like the chalice tie bars from CLF.
• Wear something dressier than you normally do when you are headed to church and something dressier than that when you are in the pulpit. (Please note that this is relative to your standards of style, NOT the best dressed person in the pews.)
• Wear what you want to wear-- within reason! In the end, its your style and your character-- and there is no "right" way to dress as a UU minister (or as anything else, for that matter). Sure, there are plenty of fashion wrongs, and even a few fashion "sins"; but very few of them will get you sent to hell (or increase your time there--if that's your brand of Universalism).
They will, it seems, get you mocked, chastised, and threatened with minor assaults upon your person-- but that's the price of being an individual in our society. Such has it always been.

So sayeth the man in the red, green, blue, and yellow hat with the little brass bells (curled shoes always optional).

On second thought, maybe I'll just keep my fashion advice to myself until I'm asked for it....
trusting that someone else, someone with an absolute knowledge of the fashion TRUTH will reveal it to all the less fortunate, the less stylish, the less informed.

A new Fool in the Blogosphere Court

Well, after some thought and some self-training, I've decided to tumble into the blogosphere.
This isn't my first time dipping my curly-toed shoes into the water, but it is the first time I've done so with no intention of maintaining any semblance of anonymity.

So, who am I?
Well, feel free to check out my profile-- I've tried to list as many interesting tidbits as I could. Little bits of triva-- each a story waiting to be told (each a hundred stories, most likely).

What am I doing here?
I'm speaking the truth. No, not the Truth. Well, maybe some Truth.
It is hard not to while wearing the full motley. Kind of goes with the job description, really.
Which job description? Both of them, of course.
This is my place to tell you the truth I think you need to hear (read?)-- or at least the truth I need to tell (write?).
In honor of the Universal Fool, I will try to tell them in a way that can be heard-- usually with stories and humor.
(Though be forewarned, many a Jester had a biting tongue-- when they weren't biting their tongue.)

Why?
Because it is the foolish thing to do, of course.
Because I have an abundance of ego and a shortage of common sense, most likely.
Because we are all Kings and Queens.... and Fools.... and the world is waiting to tell, waiting to hear our truths.


"Who is more the Fool? The Fool, or the one that follows him."
(or reads him, in this case.)