Professional Hazards: language.

        While it is not intentional, I spend most of my time with other faith-based people.  I'm with my congregation most of my working life (which is a lot of time and includes evening meetings as well as regular day-time hours, and weekends).  Beyond that, I'm part of a couple of clergy groups of other Presbyterian pastors, as well as a local clergy group that is Ecumenical and I serve on a couple of interfaith boards (one to create low-income housing and support services, and one for advocacy for the poor in our community).  Many of my friends and family are also faith people, some of different traditions, some of the same.  But even those that aren't are probably just used to me, my language, the way I present in the world.  It takes a situation in which I'm thrown into "normal" society for me to realize how much of my person has been influenced and affected not only by my role, but by my associations.  

         I was at a party of a family member a couple weeks ago and found myself in a conversation with a person whom I had never met before.  After a few minutes I realized she was giving me a weird look after something I had said.  I think we were talking about how horrible people are behaving in their cars and I responded by saying, "Yes, but I'm working to try to respond more with grace and compassion, to try and spread kindness through a stance of love, even in the face of their rage.  Not easy, but I try." She gave me this weird look and I realized I was using words, phrases and even ideas that were "churchy" or "religious" without even knowing it.  A little while later, she was talking about her struggles with raising her son on her own.  I mentioned that I had parented my children on my own for many years, too.  And then I said, "But as hard as it was at times, I also see the gifts that have come from that particular challenge..." That too received a weird look.  I've done it again, I thought.

          I've found myself reflecting on this ever since, with two very different thoughts.  The first is that, yes, many vocations have language affectations that develop within and around them.  When David reads me some of the posts of people on his Marine's Facebook page, there is definitely a speech pattern and use of specific words that I don't understand, that aren't part of my world, that are unique to that situation of being a Marine.  When he is talking about work (he's an IT guy), he also uses a code that I don't understand.  We all know airline people have definite inflections and speech patterns that are unique to their trade.  Doctors and nurses use a specific vocabulary in normal speech, not just in the office, that usually informs those of us around them that they are medical people.  Musicians have a specific way of talking, and these are different depending on what kind of musician you are.  Clergy aren't immune to this, though I often hate when I hear that kind of speech in other clergy.  I hate it because it often feels phony to me, put-on, a kind of "holier than thou" way of talking that seems judgmental, superior and manipulative.  I feel like when I use it, I'm trying to talk to myself, more than the other, about how I need to be in the world.  But I wonder if it, too, doesn't somehow come across as all the things that I don't like when I hear it in other clergy.  Which brings me to the second point:

        If we don't want to isolate and alienate people, learning to speak in their language is important.  "Churchy" language can be off-putting.  So I've found myself trying to think through ways that maintain my integrity, my truth, and yet are not in the coded, isolating, and sometimes self-righteous language of the church.  "Grace" is a loaded term for people.  Wouldn't it be just as clear to say, "I want to try to pass kindness forward, even when it isn't deserved" rather than saying, "we need to offer them grace" or "we need to reflect love"?  Wouldn't it be better to say, "I know I've learned some things through these hard times" rather than "I see the gifts in the challenges"?  

       I've been uncomfortable with the idea of having different patterns of speech: one for the "insiders" and one for everyone else.  At the same time, words like "grace" which have deep meaning for me, can be uncomfortable for the larger community.  But is the idea of speaking differently in different situations really that strange or novel?  I remember a time I was in seminary when the man I was dating at the time came up from New Mexico for a visit.  After sitting in on a conversation that I had with one of my other seminarians, my then-boy-friend said, "I've never seen this side of you.  I didn't understand what you were saying at all.  You spoke and interacted in a completely different way."  I was surprised by this.  I hadn't realized that I had adjusted or changed my way of talking when I was with other pastoral students than when I was with him.  We do adjust our topics of conversation and even our speech patters relative to whom we are with.

          Ultimately, I find myself reflecting back on Paul's words in 1st Corinthians 9: 19-23 when he says, in essence, "when in Rome, do as the Romans do".   If we want to be able to connect with all kinds of people, if we want to try to build bridges of understanding and community, if we want to work for reconciliation and healing between people, no matter their beliefs, world views, opinions or life-orientations, then being able to communicate in a language that others understand is important.  I also think this means I need to be intentional about being out in the world more, to understand and remember how other people are talking (and not talking).  It's easy to become isolated and comfortable in our own little corners of the world and to fail to build bridges of understanding and reconciliation simply because we have not taken the time to interact with the "other," let alone understand them.  

          I want to be clear that I'm not suggesting that we fail to act with integrity, or that we adjust our beliefs or values based on who we are with.  It also doesn't mean that we fail to speak up against injustice or to fail to engage people whose opinions differ from our own with honesty.  What it does mean is that if we want to bring healing and connection, it is important to start from a common ground.  That common ground begins with how we communicate with one another.  Can we work a little harder to make sure others understand the words and phrases and ideas that we are trying to communicate?  Can we take the time to be intentional about speaking in ways that others understand? Can we seek to use language to connect rather than to isolate, pigeon-hole, separate and alienate those around us?

         I'm working on this.  It's not easy for me.  But I'm working on it.  Part of having integrity for me is trying harder to connect rather than to separate.  And that has to start with the way I present myself and talk to others.  Wish me luck.  

Pentecost and Music

                                             Acts 2:1-21

Ezek. 37:1-14

Today we celebrate the birthday of the church.  And we do so by recalling days when the Spirit took hold of things, changed things, lit the place on fire.  Both the Ezekiel passage and the passage from Acts tell us stories of the spirit, stories in which the spirit blows in with great force and in doing so ignites the miraculous, the amazing, and the unexpected.  In Acts, when the Spirit blew in, the people could understand one another even across language barriers.  I think it’s very important here to note that it is not that the people all started speaking the same language.  They were still each speaking their own languages, though it says here that some were speaking languages they did not formerly know.  But while still speaking different languages, they were able to understand one another.  This is a miracle indeed.  For we know that even when we speak the same linguistic language, we often still don’t understand one another.  In previous Pentecost sermons I’ve shared with you personal examples of those misunderstandings.  Times when we are speaking the same language and really not understanding one another. 

One more story for you:  There was a woman in one of my congregations who spoke or understood the world completely differently from me.  I would say things that I thought were unoffensive, were kind, were reaching out: things like, “You seem a little down.  Are you okay?” And would be met with anger, “I am NOT down!  Why would you say that! I was fine until I talked with YOU!”  We just missed each other at every turn.  We both were speaking English.  But we were never speaking the same language. 

I’ve been thinking about this idea of understanding one another across languages in terms of music since today is the last Sunday the choir will sing for the summer and I’ve been especially aware of the amazing gift of music that the choir gives to us.  I think it is very appropriate that we remember the miracle of Pentecost in relationship to music, because many would say that music itself is still that language that crosses language barriers.  Would you say that’s true?  But as I’ve reflected on it, I’ve also realized that music can also sets up new barriers, new language problems, as it were, if we let it.  It isn’t just that we don’t all like the same kinds of music, at times I would say we simply cannot understand the same kinds of music.  Personally, while I enjoy many different kinds of music, I still find that there are certain types of music I simply don’t understand: for example, certain types of punk rock and the more aggressive rap music.  Also, I struggle to understand and appreciate certain kinds of music from different countries: certain types of Asian cultural music, for example, is harder for me to relate to or appreciate.  And I think that just as when we don’t understand different languages when we have not grown up around them, have not listened to them in our formative years, the same can be true of different kinds of music.  We often understand best the music we were raised with.  And while we can grow into an appreciation of other kinds of music and even an enjoyment or love of these, many times it takes long-term exposure and experience - study, I would even say, just as with different languages, to learn and understand these different types of music. 

As I continued to look at this passage in Acts, the more it seemed to me that the experience of the community in Acts, responding to the Spirit moving in such a way that people could understand each other across languages, is very similar to today’s church community responding to the Spirit moving through music.  In the story in Acts, there were people who understood each other across the different languages.  They heard the words in their own languages.  So, too, in our communities, many do experience the universal language of music.  We are moved and hear things in new pieces that touch us, that speak to us in the language of our hearts.  In the community in Acts, there were also people who didn’t like what was happening, who sneered and assumed that too much alcohol was involved.  So, too, when the Spirit speaks through new music, especially new kinds of music, there will always be other people who, hearing a piece for the first time will be uneasy, uncomfortable, assume impropriety, and so attack it.

Throughout our church history there has been controversy over what is appropriate church music.  Before the Protestant Reformation the Catholic church went through various different positions on music.  At the time of the Reformation only the priest sang in church.  One of Martin Luther’s issues with the church was that at the time worship was not a participatory event.  Everything was done in Latin and only done by the priest since the common person did not know Latin.  In response Luther invited congregational participation through singing, and singing in the language of the people, which in Luther’s community was German.  Luther took common, popular music, popular tunes of the time, the music of the youth, some have even said bar tunes, and made them into hymns.  The equivalent today would be taking hard rock, hip hop, EDM (electronic dance music), ska, rap, death metal, punk music and putting Christian words to it for worship.  Can you imagine how the people reacted?  Many felt scandalized that secular music was coming into their holy places.  It is the same reaction many in our churches have today when the popular music of our youth comes into the congregation.  Luther believed that these tunes would first attract the young people, but second, he believed in providing Christian lyrics to the tunes they already knew, filling their minds with those words when they chanced upon the tunes in other settings.  Interestingly, Luther did not allow organs or other music accompaniment in his churches and instrumentation was allowed in Lutheran churches only about 50 years after Luther had died. 

In John Calvin’s church, Calvin hired a lyricist and a composer to rework the

Psalter.  The lyricist re-wrote the psalms, and the composer set it to music.  The queen complained about these “Geneva jigs” because it, too was a departure from the Latin plainsong.  And yet again, by today’s standards, we would also see Calvin as very strict and austere.  He would only allow psalms to be sung in worship, and he insisted not only that these psalms go completely unaccompanied by instruments but that they also be sung without harmonies.  It was not until the end of the 17^th century in the Presbyterian church that some churches began to allow instrumental accompaniment.

We understand music differently.  We speak music differently.  And yet again, we are given the Pentecost story in which people continue to speak different languages, but some are speaking languages that are different from their own, and others are hearing those voices spoken in their own languages.  The Spirit brings in something new, something different, but it is always something that helps us be more connected, if we are open to it.  Literally, we begin to understand and hear in our own languages... in the languages of our community, in the languages of our media, in the languages of our music, in the languages of our children.

In the Ezekiel passage for today God promises that the very bones will be raised.  What has been declared dead will rise to new life.  This is not a comfortable or easy thought.  But again, the Spirit is not promising to be easy or comfortable.  The Spirit is promising to be alive, and to live in unexpected though glorious ways.

Today we celebrate the Spirit’s movement through music.  And I invite you to listen for the Spirit in a new way, to celebrate the new life that the Spirit can raise in all of our old bones, to live through song.  Amen.