“A Time to Speak with Clarity”
by Ryan Janzen
ABSTRACT
The emergence of mitigated language in journalism, music, aircraft cockpits, and in the church. The church’s role in being clear about our Christian beliefs to newcomers, to the outside world, and to ourselves. The tragic downfall of some necessary intellectual forces within society, vs. acts of love manifested in fearless pursuit of what is morally right, guided by Jesus.
Scripture readings: 2 Timothy 3:16 – 4:5; Philippians 4:8-9; Psalm 119:34
In my hand I have a stack of music. Sheet music. The pages show a huge set of information, about pitches, timing, polyphony, expression, with an almost scientific precision.
Unlike science and engineering, where ideally facts are presented with clarity, in music, well, sometimes things are not as clear. Music sometimes communicates hidden messages with multiple meanings. When I write music, I often try to create a transcendent experience, one that brings the listener into another world.
But on the other hand, researchers are discovering more clearly how the human ear and nervous system perceive music. Many composers have an intuitive way of arranging music, but they don’t always know why. But there are actually equations, laws of physics and mathematics, that explain why music is written a certain way.
There’s a myth that good music is made by mysterious practitioners using secret methods. Some musicians even try to create a veil of mystery and hide behind it, talking about postmodernism and saying that music and art can never be evaluated, that art is about bewilderment, that it’s all relative. And so, many people have given up, and think that sound is a very mysterious phenomenon, that art shouldn’t be clearly understood, that it’s all in the eye or ear of the beholder.
Does this ever happen in churches?
Today’s sermon is about confusion. And the idea that we can still search for meaning, for truth, for beauty, for the difference between right and wrong, rather than just giving up.
OTTAWA
My first story for you is from a trip with some friends in Ottawa. Touring there on a Sunday morning, I suggested: why not go to a morning service at a basilica there, which was already a major tourist destination anyway? At cathedrals around the world, I’ve found the experiences to be spiritually very deep. And my friends were just curious about what “church” was. I told them they shouldn’t feel pressured by anything, but were welcome to just sit and watch, and could ask me afterward about anything they saw. To myself, I was hoping that they would have a positive experience.
Now, I should say first that I have immense respect for the Roman Catholic church, deep respect for many of its contributions, but what I’m talking about is this specific service, at this specific cathedral.
And I also want to stress the importance of Communion to all denominations of Christians. But: I was trying to see this service from my friends’ perspective. Both of them being scientists, they were curious at this point in their lives: What is it that Christians DO, or talk about, and why?
Now, first of all the priest that morning was completely mumbling his words making them incomprehensible, so we’ll have to dispense with any information conveyed through verbal means. So let’s try visual information. And my eyes followed my friends’ gaze, which was turning to confusion, squinting to the front, as what appeared to be a very complex chemistry experiment was beginning to occur. After several pieces of apparatus, beakers and test tubes were assembled on a great sturdy lab bench, the eyes could barely make out a number of candles (or bunsen burners?) that were being lit. Puffs of smoke rose, while other liquids were poured between various beakers and test tubes. Every once in a while, a uniformed laboratory assistant would walk over to fetch more specialized chemicals from a very exalted-looking supply closet.
So after getting up and leaving at the end, my friends had learned almost nothing about Christianity. So I had to explain it to them, from step 1.
Now, wait a minute. Can this ever happen in our church? When a newcomer comes in, do they get a clear concept of the joyful good news of being a Christian? Do we tell them about the holy spirit, and the saving grace of Jesus Christ?
Do we clearly express the most important things, about love, Jesus dying for our sins, salvation for anyone who follows him, and a personal relationship with God being available to everyone! Or does that get lost in a cloud of confusion, about signing guest books, sausage, delicious cookies, hermaneutic biblical sociolinguistics, coffee, and kind greetings?
Mitigated language — that’s what happens when we have said many things, but have not yet said the most important thing. Let me give an example: Mitigated language has come up, in a big way, in aviation accidents. Now, this is a completely different situation, but it helps illustrate what mitigated language is.
On a foggy night in 1997, Korean Airlines flight 801 crashed after some critical things were left unsaid between three pilots in the cockpit. The electronic landing signal for the airport, down below, was out of service, and so the captain was attempting to land the plane using eyesight, assuming that, in the vast darkness below, they would soon see lights dotting the runway. So far, darkness. The first officer was concerned about the safety of the situation, but didn’t want to show disrespect to his superior, so he hinted at his concern in an indirect way. The first officer said, “Do you think it rains more in this area?” The captain kept on doing what he was doing. The flight engineer then said, “Captain, the weather radar has helped us a lot,” pointing at something ominous on the weather radar screen. The captain replied, “Yes, they are very useful.” What the other officers were trying to do was warn the captain that it may not be safe to do a visual approach without a backup plan for landing, in case the weather got worse and the runway was not visible. However, given the hierarchical structure of the time, the two other pilots
were too fearful of upsetting their superior to clearly state that his choices might be dangerous. “The weather radar has helped us a lot”. Tragically, the runway lights were nowhere to be seen, and left descending in the fog for far too long, the jet collided with Nimitz Hill in the dark. By failing to speak up clearly at a time that it was needed, the other officers didn’t go far enough to prevent the crash.
(How many times do we as Christians fail to speak up when it’s needed most?)
Now, an emergency in a cockpit is a situation where there’s no time for mitigated language. But is language important in the slower-paced movement of our spiritual lives? A wise person once told me, “Don’t confuse things that are urgent but not important with things that are important but not urgent.”
How do we have the language to be good stewards of God’s word?
How do we listen and express the faint whispers inside each other, the faint whispers coming from there (pointing over to Bible) over the cacophony of everyday life? Over the selfish and self-centred worldview thrust upon us? How do we have the language to say “I love you”, or “God loves you”, or “accept Him into your heart”, to a family member, or to each other?
“The weather radar has helped us a lot.”
Some things could make a huge difference in a person’s life, in the long term, if they’re stated clearly at some point. In the chaos, confusion and pressures of everyday life, is it any wonder that we are sometimes afraid to speak clearly about our Christian beliefs?
Some Bible verses about clarity and confusion:
2 Corinthians 4:8
We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair;
Proverbs 24:26
An honest answer is like a kiss on the lips. I am your servant; give me understanding, that I may know your testimonies! Your testimonies are righteous forever; give me understanding that I may live. Let my cry come before you, O Lord; give me understanding according to your word! We yearn to understand. And sometimes we do understand, but that whisper from God: How do we keep it from being drowned out by everyday life? Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ.
Psalm 119:125,144,169
I am your servant; give me understanding, that I may know your testimonies!
Your testimonies are righteous forever; give me understanding that I may live.
Let my cry come before you, O Lord; give me understanding according to your word!
We yearn to understand. And sometimes we do understand, but that whisper from God: How do we keep it from being drowned out by everyday life?
Galatians 1:10
Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ.
Pleasing people is an interesting issue, especially in the field of journalism. The climate of reporting has changed since the heyday of “getting the scoop” in the 1920’s. The business model of media has evolved. In international political reporting, while journalists strive to find the truth, people around them might not always be agreeable, if it means alienating viewers or readers. This pressure has been seen at CNN, Fox News, and even the New York Times and the Washington Post. (This is well documented — a good read is “The Pen and the Sword” by Calvin Exoo.)
For example, journalists who questioned the U.S. decision to go to war in Iraq in 2003, who questioned whether the supposed weapons of mass destruction were real or fictitious, or who reported on Iraqi civilian deaths, at the time experienced extreme pressure to silence their message. Questioning the war was equated with treason.
If journalists were accused of being traitors, is it any wonder that some became more fearful of speaking out if they discovered important new facts, if those facts were not aligned with going to war?
Back to life as a Christian, in the chaos, confusion and pressures of everyday life, is it any wonder that we are sometimes afraid to speak clearly about our Christian beliefs?
Journalist Chris Hedges suggests that, in our society, it is the “culture of the self”, being careful to protect one’s career (careerism), being wary of challenging corporate relationships or personal relationships, for fear of alienating friends, fear of jarring readers or viewers, that can cause university professors, the media, and churches, to back off from subjects that might be jarring to someone else — that might challenge our habits, our everyday life. Again, the “culture of the self”.
Chris Hedges argues that churches, universities, artists, and the media, have traditionally had a positive role: to moderate and stabilize society and politicians, to independently speak out and search for truth. But he argues in his well-researched book “Death of the Liberal Class”, how, over the recent decades, the arts world, universities (and I’m part of one), churches, and the media, have been losing their independent voice, have neutered their language, and become increasingly afraid to approach fundamental issues in society, with a clear voice.
I’ve sometimes tried this mental exercise. I’ve sometimes imagined: what if one morning a bank robber, after admiring his latest bags of loot from the night before, decided to come visit a morning service at a church for the first time? Imagine that, week after week, the person comes back, and let’s say this individual is kind, gentle, offers good conversation; and the bank heists — well, the subject doesn’t really come up. This person might not know that he’s doing anything wrong by continuing to rob banks.
Now, we try to set a good example of a Christian community, and that’s very important. At the same time, would any of us, at SOME point, try to stand up for the Word of God? (regardless of whatever church it
is; ours, or some other church.)
Or would we just shake hands and smile, serve coffee, and say hello and goodbye?
I hope if I was that bank robber, that one of you would maybe be brave enough to touch on the Ten Commandments? (Maybe not 20 people at the same time! — but maybe one, in a very sensitive, supportive, listening, and non-controlling way?) That, in my mind, would be an act of love, an act of life-giving.
Listen to this person who was a follower of Jesus: Martin Luther King, who said:
“On some positions, cowardice asks the question, ‘Is it safe?’ Expediency asks the question, ‘Is it politic?’ Vanity asks the question, ‘Is it popular?’ And there comes a time when a true follower of Jesus Christ must take a stand that’s neither safe nor politic nor popular but he must take a stand because it is right.”
Part of following Jesus, understanding the profound teachings and having a close relationship with Him, means thinking with clarity above the noise, the confusion, of everyday life. Peter denied knowing Him three times. It’s so easy. It’s easy to smile, pass the coffee, it’s easy to waltz in and waltz on out. It’s easy to be a social club. It’s easy to keep the plane on autopilot.
A social club, or something that’s only a social club, embraces the culture of the self. But Jesus taught: a true blossoming of life comes if we learn to sometimes deny our own selves, and follow Him.
Pursuing truth is better than being caged by confusion. Listening with clarity is better than not hearing our brother and sister. Understanding God’s word, very slowly and carefully, is better than allowing the randomness of the world to take over. Pursuing the beauty of God’s kingdom, together, liberates us, allows us to be set free.
When God spoke to his people, that message that resonated then, resonates now. A message of hope — for us, and for future generations. That message: It’s in our hands.