Sacred Connections: Language
Sometimes we don't know the language we’re looking for until it catches us by surprise. I was speaking with a family member last night, and she was lamenting the language of text messages. It is not a familiar language to her, and she was having difficulty deciphering what was happening. Many of us have found ourselves on the receiving end, or sending end, of a text with many recipients, frequently during a health emergency which was what this was about. The responses and repeated pinging can be a bit unraveling. Every response heartfelt, but if one does not speak the language of texts and understand the flow of conversation, it can be confusing and almost disorienting. So, I helped my family member parse out the conversation and I was able to offer guidance on what to look for. But I was missing the point, as ten minutes in she was able to say, “I just need to hear a human voice. I’m so lonely, I need to have a conversation with a person.” All of the well-intended and even important texts, were not going to be the language she needed to soothe her soul.
Talking to a person, being heard, brings immediately to mind the gifts of our Stephen Ministers. There are likely many of us with similar longings as my family member, feeling isolated, and wanting to hear a human voice. We also have a ruggedly independent, almost stubborn streak in our culture, frequently we’re so much more comfortable helping others, and so resistant to reach out for help ourselves. These are extraordinary times, and this corona virus experience has been wearing on all of us, albeit in varying ways. And our congregation is blessed with Stephen Ministers to be trustworthy, confidential listeners on a one-to-one basis when people are going through difficult times. Stephen Ministry relationships may be short term situational, or longer lasting, depending on the need. When we are longing to hear the language of Christian care giving, we need only to make that need known.
In another recent conversation, a member of Redeemer was sharing the medical struggles her family had been experiencing. Everything was finally moving in a positive direction and there was much gratitude for that. I said, “I wish we had known.” And she responded that they had not wanted to be a burden. I said “It wouldn’t have been a burden. We want to know. We could have at least held you in prayer.” Her immediate response was that they had not wanted to be on the public prayer list read on Sunday, that they had wanted privacy. But then I mentioned they could have been on our Confidential Intercessory Prayer List that is prayed over each week by about 75 members of the congregation. Hearing of this was an opening with an immediate response, “I had no idea that existed. That would have been so helpful. I wouldn’t have felt so alone. I can feel even now how differently that time would have felt had we known people were praying for us.” Intercessory prayer for her family was a language she had been missing without being aware of the possibility, without knowing it could be so immediately at hand.
In this time of so much concern, conflict, confrontation, growing awareness of systemic racism, separation in physical distancing and polarizing views, language feels more challenging. I find myself searching my words to be sure they are as clear as I can make them, hopefully free of any of the hidden or unconscious meanings I would not want to convey. And yet, this is a time of such rapid movement, including in the language we speak, the stories we now see through a different lens, the life experiences we seek to share. At times when I feel myself self-silencing out of fear of getting the words somehow wrong, I rest in the language that Jesus calls us to, trusting to find the words and actions that in my very human way still communicate God’s love.
