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Bridges & Barriers
- By Wendy Walker
- Published 11/16/2007
- Theological Themes
- Unrated
Choosing our words carefully is at the heart of our calling
A pastor reached out to a teenage girl who’d reached the deepest pit of
despair. She looked much older than she was—clearly the effects of substance abuse. Stripes marked her arms where she used a blade to mutilate her skin. Her pregnant belly swelled under her shirt. All of her relationships were in tatters. Pushing the pastor aside, the girl had screamed, “I’m such a f--- up!” What kind of response does a pastor have for an exclamation like that? “That may be so,” the pastor replied. “But you’re a f--- up whom God loves.”
A word likely to offend and be classified as a curse makes its way smoothly
through the lips of a Christ-follower—one who pursues holiness and teaches
others to do the same— because in a moment of crisis, she sees that very word as a bridge between her less troubled life and the chaotic life of another.
Context
Foul language is certainly not always a bridge. In fact, such words are
usually spoken for the purpose of breaking down relationships and creating
rifts. However, I’d like to suggest that it’s often the context in which a word is spoken—and not the word itself—that fuels the potential to either alienate people from the message of Christ or meet them with it where they are.
For example, many Christians tend to speak in Christianese—a religious
dialect full of terms and phrases used only by those in the church. The
problem with Christianese is when Christians use it to communicate with
people outside the church; for non-Christians this kind of spiritual patter
is foreign and inaccessible.
Conversely more “secular” means of self-expression are typically looked down upon by church folk. I know all too well that feeling after entering into a conversation between Christians and being taken seriously only if I slip in
a “saved,” “sanctified,” or “sowing those seeds” for the brethren.
Let’s ask ourselves how the words we choose can be bridges and not barriers between us and the students to whom we reach out. How can we “tune in” to their frequencies without losing our own station?
A Missional Perspective
It’s a dilemma not unlike those faced by cross-cultural missionaries. Their
first task—before they build relationships, administer sacraments, teach
doctrine, or take spiritual authority—is learning the local language. Even
the kindest, hardest-working missionaries would never be more than strangers in villages as long as they babbled words the people couldn’t follow. So step-by-step they walk with the people, listening; and bit-by-bit they enter their worlds— crossing bridges built with words.
I live in South Africa, a multicultural, multilingual, broken-but-beloved
country on its way to healing and wholeness. Last year I worked with a
15-year-old Tswana girl who hadn’t been back to school since her parents
died of AIDS two years before. She and her sisters headed their own household in a small tin shack with no idea how to register themselves in
school. Our country is used to such circumstances, and it didn’t take too
much for me to enroll her without guardianship, get her tuition covered, and
assert legal rights on her behalf.
The hard part, however, was getting her to buy into the process every step
of the way. She spoke hardly any English; so while the one sentence she
could say was, “I want go school,” it was an entirely different story preparing her emotionally for the pressures of education and running a
household. Having few words—not only lacking what I could say to her, but
also lacking what I could discover about her feelings and fears from what
she said to me—I always felt like an outsider, directing her from a distance
rather than standing on the same soil, living through it all with her.
Still, we organized her enrollment, books, and uniform, and she did go to
school; but a few months later I saw her again in the informal setting that
she and her sisters call home, and she ran away and hid. I knew she’d dropped out. Providing practicalities had not been enough. We needed
communication to build a relationship, but without words there was no bridge for either of us to meet each other.
This example of such a blatant and harsh failure reminds me of the smaller,
subtler failures of communication in the mission field of youth ministry,
caused when our words build barriers instead of bridges. The vast differences in the subculture of young people against the backdrop of their
parents’ world is reason enough for any youth worker to consider herself a
cross-cultural missionary—and “churched kids” are a minority almost everywhere we go. Perhaps, like missionaries, our first task is to learn the local language and let go of our Christianese.
If we don’t, we could find ourselves laying out every practical step for an
understanding of Christ but without the bridges to support them on their way to Jesus.
God and Words
It’s been said that “a picture paints a thousand words,” and our actions have been heralded as far more vital than what we say. Even so, words are not to be underestimated or cast aside as superficial chatter. It was with words that God brought creation into being—with mere verbal commands the light, the earth, and life began.
It’s with words, as well as actions, that we celebrate the sacraments of baptism and the Eucharist; imagine breaking the bread and pouring the wine
without proclaiming the glorious mystery that these elements are the body and blood of Christ in our lives. The words of the sacrament declare that God is given to us—an eternal truth placed within the limitations of human language so we may understand its essence.
God has chosen to be revealed, at least in part, through Scripture—The Word of God. And let’s not forget one of the most powerful descriptions of Christ himself: The Living Word.
Words in the Way
Whether proclaimed loudly or in quiet voice, when chosen carefully, our
words can hold power. And we give more of ourselves through our words when they make sense to our hearers—as opposed to when they suit our own egos or prompt others to see us as eloquent. When we’re guided by students’ words and use their preferred vocabulary in the correct context (without sounding like we’re trying to be cool), we enable them to more clearly understand what we’re trying to communicate.
For this reason getting stuck in Christianese that comes so easily to those
who’ve listened to years of church conversations is as much a mistake as
that of colonial missionaries who forced Western culture on new converts in
foreign lands—e.g., dressing tribal chiefs in suits— because they equated
Western culture with Christian piety. (Missionaries don’t always get it right, either.)
Speaking to young people without a genuine effort to change our language is
to force on them our way of communicating; we therefore cannot meet them in their own world of words. It places them in situations where, in order to be understood and to understand, young people may feel must conform to the tune of faith as we present it rather than be valued for the melodic variety of verbal expression they could bring to the faith themselves.
This is certainly not to say that scriptural words are to be discarded, that
we should tone down our message, or we should translate entire sermons into hip-hop lingo. It doesn’t mean that foul words become acceptable or holy when we step behind a pulpit. What it does mean is that we should evaluate our vocabulary not by its cultural propriety or how many times particular words are used in Scripture, but rather by the potential of words to help us give more of ourselves to our hearers (i.e., more accurately depict God’s message in the minds of teenagers).
Striking a Balance
It’s about using words as a bridge between the message and the mind, and not in any way to change or twist the meaning. Part of the work of a missionary is the difficult balance between engaging in the indigenous culture while helping the people disengage from those aspects of their culture that aren’t consistent with the Kingdom of God. A missionary may need to burn his jacket and tie in favor of a loincloth but at the same time not condone (in fact, speak against) ancestor worship and abuse of women.
Similarly, we have a balance to attain when we enter our students’ world
through their words. While high school jargon could in many instances bring
them the gospel with clarity and ease of understanding, it could at other
times limit the message to the realm of teenage life. While being sensitive
to the culture of a college campus may gain credibility—and a more willing,
listening ear—we can by default relegate our message to a transitory state
that diffuses along with many of the fraternal affiliations after graduation.
Many words may be popular and comfortable on the lips of our students, but
without their even realizing it, they also may imply discrimination or rebellion. In using such words to paint God’s pictures in their minds, we may unknowingly be saying that actions such as anarchy and promiscuity are acceptable in the Kingdom of God. The words we use may carry connotations we never intended and may taint the message we’re bringing to their ears.
As missionaries to young people, we may become masters of the local lingo,
but in doing so forget what we’re there for.
Using Good Sense
While a perfectly placed swear word could hit the nail on the head to help one young person see that God is right there in the middle of his mess, it could become an infected wound for a teenager who loses all sight of God as
holy.
It’s no wonder, then, that the psalmist cries out, “Set a guard over my mouth, O Lord; keep watch over the door of my lips” (141:3). Our tongues
have the power to build barriers that hold people back—or even when used as bridges, they could lead young people where they should not go.
If we are to proclaim God’s message with words familiar to our students—still echoing from the hallways of school or the dressing rooms of malls—without allowing the worldly values of these spheres to creep in, too, the Living Word himself will need to be our foundation.
Like Isaiah at the time of his calling, we need to confess that anything we
say has the power to harm or hinder, because as with all humans we find
ourselves guilty of having “unclean lips” (Isaiah 6:5). At the vision of God’s glory, the prophet is distraught by the knowledge of his failure to speak in holiness and truth. God’s response is not to leave in search of someone else who can assert the purity of his speech; rather, a seraph touches Isaiah’s lips with coal, and through the power of God he’s atoned and equipped to “go and tell” (6:9).
Before we open our mouths to bring God’s message to young people, we need to make sure that our words have been consecrated to the One of whom we speak. And as we build verbal bridges between God’s love and the hearts of teenagers, we must pray that they paint a picture of God in their minds beyond all sense—and Sentence.
despair. She looked much older than she was—clearly the effects of substance abuse. Stripes marked her arms where she used a blade to mutilate her skin. Her pregnant belly swelled under her shirt. All of her relationships were in tatters. Pushing the pastor aside, the girl had screamed, “I’m such a f--- up!” What kind of response does a pastor have for an exclamation like that? “That may be so,” the pastor replied. “But you’re a f--- up whom God loves.”
A word likely to offend and be classified as a curse makes its way smoothly
through the lips of a Christ-follower—one who pursues holiness and teaches
others to do the same— because in a moment of crisis, she sees that very word as a bridge between her less troubled life and the chaotic life of another.
Context
Foul language is certainly not always a bridge. In fact, such words are
usually spoken for the purpose of breaking down relationships and creating
rifts. However, I’d like to suggest that it’s often the context in which a word is spoken—and not the word itself—that fuels the potential to either alienate people from the message of Christ or meet them with it where they are.
For example, many Christians tend to speak in Christianese—a religious
dialect full of terms and phrases used only by those in the church. The
problem with Christianese is when Christians use it to communicate with
people outside the church; for non-Christians this kind of spiritual patter
is foreign and inaccessible.
Conversely more “secular” means of self-expression are typically looked down upon by church folk. I know all too well that feeling after entering into a conversation between Christians and being taken seriously only if I slip in
a “saved,” “sanctified,” or “sowing those seeds” for the brethren.
Let’s ask ourselves how the words we choose can be bridges and not barriers between us and the students to whom we reach out. How can we “tune in” to their frequencies without losing our own station?
A Missional Perspective
It’s a dilemma not unlike those faced by cross-cultural missionaries. Their
first task—before they build relationships, administer sacraments, teach
doctrine, or take spiritual authority—is learning the local language. Even
the kindest, hardest-working missionaries would never be more than strangers in villages as long as they babbled words the people couldn’t follow. So step-by-step they walk with the people, listening; and bit-by-bit they enter their worlds— crossing bridges built with words.
I live in South Africa, a multicultural, multilingual, broken-but-beloved
country on its way to healing and wholeness. Last year I worked with a
15-year-old Tswana girl who hadn’t been back to school since her parents
died of AIDS two years before. She and her sisters headed their own household in a small tin shack with no idea how to register themselves in
school. Our country is used to such circumstances, and it didn’t take too
much for me to enroll her without guardianship, get her tuition covered, and
assert legal rights on her behalf.
The hard part, however, was getting her to buy into the process every step
of the way. She spoke hardly any English; so while the one sentence she
could say was, “I want go school,” it was an entirely different story preparing her emotionally for the pressures of education and running a
household. Having few words—not only lacking what I could say to her, but
also lacking what I could discover about her feelings and fears from what
she said to me—I always felt like an outsider, directing her from a distance
rather than standing on the same soil, living through it all with her.
Still, we organized her enrollment, books, and uniform, and she did go to
school; but a few months later I saw her again in the informal setting that
she and her sisters call home, and she ran away and hid. I knew she’d dropped out. Providing practicalities had not been enough. We needed
communication to build a relationship, but without words there was no bridge for either of us to meet each other.
This example of such a blatant and harsh failure reminds me of the smaller,
subtler failures of communication in the mission field of youth ministry,
caused when our words build barriers instead of bridges. The vast differences in the subculture of young people against the backdrop of their
parents’ world is reason enough for any youth worker to consider herself a
cross-cultural missionary—and “churched kids” are a minority almost everywhere we go. Perhaps, like missionaries, our first task is to learn the local language and let go of our Christianese.
If we don’t, we could find ourselves laying out every practical step for an
understanding of Christ but without the bridges to support them on their way to Jesus.
God and Words
It’s been said that “a picture paints a thousand words,” and our actions have been heralded as far more vital than what we say. Even so, words are not to be underestimated or cast aside as superficial chatter. It was with words that God brought creation into being—with mere verbal commands the light, the earth, and life began.
It’s with words, as well as actions, that we celebrate the sacraments of baptism and the Eucharist; imagine breaking the bread and pouring the wine
without proclaiming the glorious mystery that these elements are the body and blood of Christ in our lives. The words of the sacrament declare that God is given to us—an eternal truth placed within the limitations of human language so we may understand its essence.
God has chosen to be revealed, at least in part, through Scripture—The Word of God. And let’s not forget one of the most powerful descriptions of Christ himself: The Living Word.
Words in the Way
Whether proclaimed loudly or in quiet voice, when chosen carefully, our
words can hold power. And we give more of ourselves through our words when they make sense to our hearers—as opposed to when they suit our own egos or prompt others to see us as eloquent. When we’re guided by students’ words and use their preferred vocabulary in the correct context (without sounding like we’re trying to be cool), we enable them to more clearly understand what we’re trying to communicate.
For this reason getting stuck in Christianese that comes so easily to those
who’ve listened to years of church conversations is as much a mistake as
that of colonial missionaries who forced Western culture on new converts in
foreign lands—e.g., dressing tribal chiefs in suits— because they equated
Western culture with Christian piety. (Missionaries don’t always get it right, either.)
Speaking to young people without a genuine effort to change our language is
to force on them our way of communicating; we therefore cannot meet them in their own world of words. It places them in situations where, in order to be understood and to understand, young people may feel must conform to the tune of faith as we present it rather than be valued for the melodic variety of verbal expression they could bring to the faith themselves.
This is certainly not to say that scriptural words are to be discarded, that
we should tone down our message, or we should translate entire sermons into hip-hop lingo. It doesn’t mean that foul words become acceptable or holy when we step behind a pulpit. What it does mean is that we should evaluate our vocabulary not by its cultural propriety or how many times particular words are used in Scripture, but rather by the potential of words to help us give more of ourselves to our hearers (i.e., more accurately depict God’s message in the minds of teenagers).
Striking a Balance
It’s about using words as a bridge between the message and the mind, and not in any way to change or twist the meaning. Part of the work of a missionary is the difficult balance between engaging in the indigenous culture while helping the people disengage from those aspects of their culture that aren’t consistent with the Kingdom of God. A missionary may need to burn his jacket and tie in favor of a loincloth but at the same time not condone (in fact, speak against) ancestor worship and abuse of women.
Similarly, we have a balance to attain when we enter our students’ world
through their words. While high school jargon could in many instances bring
them the gospel with clarity and ease of understanding, it could at other
times limit the message to the realm of teenage life. While being sensitive
to the culture of a college campus may gain credibility—and a more willing,
listening ear—we can by default relegate our message to a transitory state
that diffuses along with many of the fraternal affiliations after graduation.
Many words may be popular and comfortable on the lips of our students, but
without their even realizing it, they also may imply discrimination or rebellion. In using such words to paint God’s pictures in their minds, we may unknowingly be saying that actions such as anarchy and promiscuity are acceptable in the Kingdom of God. The words we use may carry connotations we never intended and may taint the message we’re bringing to their ears.
As missionaries to young people, we may become masters of the local lingo,
but in doing so forget what we’re there for.
Using Good Sense
While a perfectly placed swear word could hit the nail on the head to help one young person see that God is right there in the middle of his mess, it could become an infected wound for a teenager who loses all sight of God as
holy.
It’s no wonder, then, that the psalmist cries out, “Set a guard over my mouth, O Lord; keep watch over the door of my lips” (141:3). Our tongues
have the power to build barriers that hold people back—or even when used as bridges, they could lead young people where they should not go.
If we are to proclaim God’s message with words familiar to our students—still echoing from the hallways of school or the dressing rooms of malls—without allowing the worldly values of these spheres to creep in, too, the Living Word himself will need to be our foundation.
Like Isaiah at the time of his calling, we need to confess that anything we
say has the power to harm or hinder, because as with all humans we find
ourselves guilty of having “unclean lips” (Isaiah 6:5). At the vision of God’s glory, the prophet is distraught by the knowledge of his failure to speak in holiness and truth. God’s response is not to leave in search of someone else who can assert the purity of his speech; rather, a seraph touches Isaiah’s lips with coal, and through the power of God he’s atoned and equipped to “go and tell” (6:9).
Before we open our mouths to bring God’s message to young people, we need to make sure that our words have been consecrated to the One of whom we speak. And as we build verbal bridges between God’s love and the hearts of teenagers, we must pray that they paint a picture of God in their minds beyond all sense—and Sentence.
