Saturday, December 23, 2006

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.

Friday, December 15, 2006

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.