Dec. 1955, Source: Karl Barth Archive, Basel, photo by Maria Netter

As you and I anticipate a reading journey through Church Dogmatics in 2012, it would be helpful to know something of its author, Karl Barth (1886-1968).  Born in Basel, Switzerland, Barth spent the majority of his childhood in Berne where his father, Fritz Barth, was Professor of Church History and New Testament Exegesis.  At age 16, Barth decided to become a theologian and began his studies at Berne in 1904 (age 18).  In addition to Berne, he studied in Berlin, Tübingen, and Marburg.  In 1909 he served as an apprentice pastor in Geneva, and from 1911 to 1921 he was pastor of a small church in the village of Safenwil. While at Safenwil, he wrote his Epistle to the Romans (Der Römerbrief, 1919, rev. 1921) marking a decisive departure from the thought of his teachers (Adolf von Harnack, Wilhelm Herrmann) and German Protestant Liberal theology of the day.  As Professor of theology in Göttingen (1921-25), Münster (1925-30), and Bonn (1930-35), Barth offered an alternative theological vision for the church.  Because he was an outspoken critic of the Nazi party and refused to swear allegiance to Adolf Hitler, he was forced to leave Germany in 1935.  The Barmen Declaration (1934) of the German Confessing Church was chiefly the work of Barth.  Leaving Germany, he returned to Switzerland and became Professor in Basel (1935–62). Barth married Nelly Hoffmann in 1913 and had five children (four sons and a daughter).  He died in Basel on December 10, 1968.

As a husband, father, pastor, teacher, and dogmatician, Barth was certainly a flawed man but one upon whom a great gift was bestowed.  Above all, he was a man seeking to serve steadfastly the Church of his day with keen critique and theological vision.

Over the course of three decades, Barth methodologically detailed his theology in Church Dogmatics (Kirchliche Dogmatik).  Written and published between 1932 and 1967, and totaling thirteen volumes, six million words, Dogmatics remained unfinished at his death.  As one of the greatest theological work of all times and certainly the most significant theological statement for the 20th century, Church Dogmatics begs to be read.

And yet, reading this gigantic work is a gigantic undertaking.  The shelf-load of imposing volumes and theologically thick and wordy sentences can undo the intentions of the most capable reader.  Reading the Dogmatics requires dogged determination, resolve and perspective.  As I begin, only Volume I, Part 1: The Doctrine of the Word of God, lies in my view.  The outline of these 489 pages is as follows:

EDITOR’S PREFACE
PREFACE
INTRODUCTION I, Part 1
§ 1. The Task of Dogmatics
§ 2. The Task of Prolegomena to Dogmatics

CHAPTER 1. THE WORD OF GOD AS THE CRITERION OF DOGMATICS
§ 3. Church Proclamation as the Material of Dogmatics
§ 4. The World of God in its Threefold Form
§ 5. The Nature of the Word of God
§ 6. The Knowability of the Word of God
§ 7. The Word of God, Dogma and Dogmatics

CHAPTER II. THE REVELATION OF GOD
PART I. THE TRIUNE GOD
§ 8. God in His Revelation
§ 9. The Triunity of God
§ 10. God the Father
§ 11. God the Son
§ 12. God the Spirit

Volume 1, Part 2, which takes up the Incarnation and the Holy Spirit, stands in the wings but out of sight, as do the other eleven tomes.

As with anything of value, there is no gain without pain, and thus it is with the Dogmatics.  If one reads only to reaffirm what one already knows, or to reinforce one’s prior convictions, or solely for inspiration, then Barth will surely disappoint.  Only as one pushes through page after page, does one catch the rhythm and sense of Barth’s method and language, emphasis and meaning.  So, take the first volume in hand, turn to the opening page, take a deep breath, and let the reading begin!

I lean toward her and confess.  “And who am I to teach a seminary class?  Who am I to act as though I am an example of Christian service, witness or piety?  Who am I to offer advice concerning marriage, ministry, missions, or life situations?  The answer to your questions and mine is the Spirit.”

While a discussion of the Holy Spirit could center on whether the gifts of the Spirit, such as tongues, are valid, our ultimate concern is whether the Spirit does in fact act in and through our lives.  And if he does, what does this mean for the way in which we are to live.  Who is Spirit and what does he do?

First, the Spirit is God.  Thus, what I might say about God, the Creator, and God, the Son, I must also say about God, the Spirit.  Each has distinction but in the end are expressions of the same God.  God, in his three-in-oneness, cannot, should not be parsed like a verb or diagramed like a sentence.  The ‘persons’ of the Godhead are not grandstanding competitors, vying for supremacy.  Rather, as Karl Barth explains, our “knowledge of God is still only an event enclosed in the mystery of the divine Trinity” (CD II/1, 181).  I, with Barth, do not understand God’s three-in-oneness.  But the mystery of the Trinity does not prevent me confessing that the Spirit is God.

Second, I have also learned from Karl Barth that our best understanding of God is in his revelation of himself.  Thus, I am able to know something of who the Spirit is, as I observe his activity.  Scripture tells me that the Spirit is the one who moves (Gen. 1.2), descends (Mt. 3.16; Mk 1.10; Jn 1.32), speaks (Mt. 10.1; Acts 8.29, 10.19), teaches (Jn 14.26), leads and guides (Lk 4.1; Acts 16.7), convicts of sin (Jn 16.8), gives life (Jn 6.63), provides comfort (Jn 14.14-26), sanctifies (Rom 15.16), gives power (Acts 1.8), bears witness of Jesus (Jn 15.26), and calls and sends out witnesses (Acts 13.2, 4).  His activity is broad, encompassing all of life, and thus far from passive or hidden.

Third, life remains one-dimensional and profane without the Spirit.  The biblical witness tells me the Spirit moves upon mundane historical happenings and frail, ordinary people, as he wishes and for his purposes.  The Spirit is the apocalyptic interruption of the stream of historical happenings.  As he interrupts, happenings and people are transformed.  While Christ is the historical incarnation of God with us, the Spirit is the ever-coming, apocalyptic encounter of the divine within time and space.  How and when this happens is beyond my understanding and certainly outside of my control.  Like the wind that blows where it will, so the Spirit moves and serves his purpose or mission.

Fourth, mission and ministry are not works the church just does.  Rather, as Lesslie Newbigin reminds us, mission “is something done by the Spirit, who is himself the witness, who changes both the world and the church, who always goes before the church in its missionary journey.”[1] The Spirit is the preacher, teacher, missionary, chaplain, student worker, and social worker – in both an eschatological and existential sense.  God, as the free and acting Spirit, creates, launches and enables the church for witness and service.  The church, according to Craig van Gelder, is the community created by the Spirit for the purposes of the Spirit.[2] Thus, if the church is to be the church, it must be founded, led, shaped and empowered by the Spirit.  If the church is to participate in the coming of the kingdom of God on earth, the reign of the Spirit must be inaugurated and established in her midst.

Fifth, the question should never be – How do I get more of the Spirit?  Or how do I get the Spirit to do what I want?  Rather, the question is always – Does the Spirit have or possess me?   Can the Spirit do with me as he wants?  Whatever I might say about faith in God or submission to God becomes reality in the work of the Spirit.  All things considered, the Spirit’s activity is about who is in control of ministry and life.  Either ministry is my ministry, life is my life, or ministry and life are the Spirit’s.

So, I confess that the Spirit is the potential for every act, the possibility in every reality.  If I preach a sermon, doing everything just right, but the Spirit does not speak in and through my words, gestures, face, and ideas, then it is just my sermon – well crafted, cute, even award-winning, but still just my sermon.  If I rush to the hospital room of a dying person, perform all the duties of pastoral care in a competent and professional manner, and yet the Spirit does not enter the room with me, in me, then I bring only skill and competency, not healing and comfort.  If I open my Bible, reading it with adroit exegetical prowess, and yet, the Spirit does not teach me, correct me, or reprove me, then the text is not a light to my feet, nor will it shine through me.  If I befriend and love my neighbor and in due time speak clearly and appropriately of my faith in Jesus Christ with skill and empathy, but am void of the Spirit’s witness, then friendship and love remain merely my friendship and my love, and thus, surely fall short of true love and fail to transform.

As I ask the Spirit to come upon me and then wait upon the Spirit to do his work, I thereby do more than merely rely on being cute, making people laugh, turning a phrase, acting like a pleasant person, working hard, or sounding smart.  These are not bad.  In fact, they are good – too good.  When I rely on these rather than the Spirit, then preaching, teaching, witnessing, writing, and ministering can rise to greatness but in the end remain one-dimensional and temporal in their effect.  When filled with the Spirit, these have the potential to be acts of grace and hope, divine expressions of love and mercy.

So, as you and I live our lives, we must not quench the Spirit with our pride and self-confidence, or with our insecurity and fear.  Rather, we are to be filled with the Spirit, walk by the Spirit, and bear the fruit of the Spirit.  Brains, looks, good intentions, and even a great education are not enough.  In fact, they are all a bit over-rated.  Instead, in the course of ministry and life, we are to ask the Spirit continually to convert us – our words, actions, and intentions – into the likeness of God.  Through the Spirit’s continual conversion, there is great liberty to preach, write, witness, parent, befriend, serve, converse, smile, befriend – to love.

2 Corinthians 3:17 reminds us – “Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.  But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as from the Lord, the Spirit.”

[2] Craig Van Gelder, The Essence of the Church: A Community Created by the Spirit (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2000).

Will you join me in this journey?  Reading schedules for the Dogmatics exist (e.g., jrdkirk.com).  I like the suggestion of reading 15 pages a day.  At this rate, one can work their way through all 14 volumes in two years.  But even this leisurely pace sounds a bit too regimented.  I want to read everyday but only as much I want or need to read without a page number that might be too much or too little for a particular day, or that might interrupt Barth in the middle so some long and complicated section.  My plan is to read everyday (first thing in the morning) as far as I want.  I will log distance by the week rather than the day.  My goal is to get through about 125 pages a week.  (I do have other things to do!)

So, I invite you to join me.  Hopefully by making my intentions public and having some of you join me, I (we) will actually stay the course over the next 12 months.  By the way, a reprinted edition of Church Dogmatics is on sale for $129 at ChristianBook.com.  What a nice Christmas gift!

All good and worthy activity can lapse into training people in how to exist for the sake of the church.  We can subtly communicate that one’s highest calling is to support the organizational objectives of the church, to show up at every church event, and to speak and behave in a churchly manner.  The objectives can become getting people into the church building and then teaching them our language, disconnecting them from old friends, reconnecting them to us, re-arranging their schedule around church events, and instructing them to give time, money and service to support the church.  In so doing, we risk reorienting their lives solely toward church, and thus, making them into churchly Christians.  In the end, they become ghettoized.

To ensure that means remains means and not become ends, we must continually ask – Does our activity lead toward the formation of character and the development of competencies that will move people toward faithful presence and clear witness in the world?  If we only teach people how to be morally good and to behave in church, then we have failed.  They must be formed in such a way that they can live – fully, faithfully live – in the world – at work, school, home, on the road, at the sporting event, on vacation, at the family reunion, at the funeral, in the hospital, during elections, in job loss, at news of cancer, in an earthquake, or in a national disaster.

In Letters and Papers from Prison, Dietrich Bonhoeffer conceives of the Christian life as not lived toward religion but toward the world.  “The ‘religious act’ is always something partial; ‘faith’ is something whole, involving the whole of one’s life.  Jesus calls men, not to a new religion, but to life” (362).  Christianity for the sake of Christianity, holiness for the sake of holiness, and church for the sake of church are insufficient aims.  As Christ came for others, loved others, and suffered and died for others, we are called to do the same.  Christians, according to Bonhoeffer, “must live a ‘secular’ life and thereby share in God’s suffering. … It is not the religious act that makes the Christian, but participation in the sufferings of God in the secular life” (361).  To be alive in Christ is to be alive to the world; to give our lives to Christ is to give ourselves to the world.

Among actions that ghettoize Christians, two are probably most common.  First, we demonize culture, and thereby, encourage Christians to withdraw from the world.  When culture is named as the enemy, we explicitly communicate that people should oppose or fear ‘the culture’.  The truth is that the gospel cannot be separated from ‘the culture’, as it is always clothed in culture of some sort – language, technology, structures, music, processes, forms, etc.  Thus, the gospel happens in the stream of life, and must continually intersect with culture, speak into it, and become party to it (contextualization).  This is not the weakness of the gospel but its power.  The gospel must dress itself in ‘the culture’, or it is not present and at work.  And by being present and at work in the culture, gospel mends and restores culture to its higher purposes.  But by naming ‘the culture’ as the enemy, we merely urge people to join a ghettoized religious culture and rob the wider culture of the salt and light of the gospel.

Second, we segregate mission from evangelism.  We have made mission what groups of specialized, highly trained professionals do in Japan, Cambodia, or Peru (the world).  On the other hand, evangelism is what the rest of us do occasionally as part of our church obligation.  Thus, missionaries go to the world and become like the world to which they are called.  Church members go to church and go out from the church now and then to evangelize people into the church.

Divides between church and world, mission and evangelism are artificial and unfortunate.  There should not be two opposing cultures – church and world, two activities – mission and evangelism, or two kinds of people – missionaries and church members.  The church exists in and for the world.  Every Christ follower is meant to participate in God’s mission in and to the world.  Whenever the church exists for its own growth, its programs, and its success, the church looses sight of its essential purpose of forming and equipping Christ followers to be a faithful presence in and a clear witness to the world.

The aim of forming people toward the world has caused a group of pastors, missionaries, and educators to create a unique, church-based, world-focused learning experience called Panorama.  Panorama is forty plus web-based lessons designed to be facilitated in a local church setting.  The lessons address issues related to faithful presence and clear witness, such as approaching people of other faiths, cross-cultural living, contextualization of the gospel, language learning, teamwork, etc.  We believe these approaches and skills, once thought to be only necessary for missionaries in international settings, are essential for the formation of believers who live in such places as Waco, Tulsa, and Little Rock.

Panorama has been developed with three premises in mind: life transformation is the goal, facilitated group learning is the means, and reflective practice is the dynamic.  Therefore, those who facilitate Panorama in their local church must understand these aims and processes.  Thus far, approximately seventy people from twenty churches have participated in seven Facilitators Workshops.  I invite you to join us for the next workshop on April 13-14 at First Baptist Church, Woodway, Texas.  To learn more about Panorama and to register for the upcoming workshop, go to GCPN – Panorama,  or contact Remey Terrell at remey.terrell@fbca.org.

The presence of the church in the world must be more than its facilities or programs, and the witness of the church must be more than what is spoken from the pulpit or in a Sunday School class.  The church is those of us who have been captured by Jesus Christ and are continually being formed to live and speak in such a way that those with whom we work, play, eat, weep, celebrate, listen to music, view movies, drink coffee, and live life may see truth and experience love.  In this manner, we – the church – live toward a wider vista, join a greater mission.

Amazing?  Yes, the journey within is amazing because a person can arrive rather quickly at who he or she is at their core and discover the weaknesses, strengths, fears, aspirations, and idiosyncrasies that reside there.  While these can be easily hidden or covered in surroundings that we control, they are now in front of us, screaming at us.  The disruption and shock of sickness, loss of identity, separation from family, strange customs, and new ways of relating push us beyond managing and controlling to just being.  Because posturing and poising, bluffing and boasting are no longer possible, all we can do is be who we really are.

From personal experience I know this journey to self can be brutal and humiliating.  Stripped of all that props us up, masks our foibles, and protects us from criticism, we stand naked, open to full inspection.  While certainly difficult and possibly even destructive, this journey holds the potential to transform us not merely at the surface level but at the core of who we are.  Whether it destroys or transforms depends on the manner in which we travel along its course.  From what I have observed, five essentials are needed for the journey.

1. The journey is to be made with hope.  It is not just a matter of just ‘gutting it out’ in order to endure or get through something.  Rather, the journey must be made in the belief that something beneficial, good or right is to be gained.  Hope propels us beyond the twists and turns, the difficulties and pain.
2. The journey is to be made with humility.  Our natural reaction when pressed and pushed is to defend and push back because of the threat to our ways of coping and functioning.  Our willingness to yield to the stripping and refining processes makes all the difference in the journey’s outcome.
3. The journey is to be made with resolve.  Rather than a sprint quickly completed, the journey is a marathon that takes time.  Once begun, it moves from stage to stage.  Without resolve, we will not arrive at the destination; we will stop short of transformation.
4. The journey is to be made with love.  In the midst of culture stress and loss, rejection of the culture and people around us as dirty, stupid or even evil is our natural reaction.  However, rather than griping, belittling, and complaining, we can choose to love.  Love is a conscious and continual choice.  Love does not mean uncritical acceptance of everyone and everything, but it does mean that our default is to embrace all that we can.
5. The journey is to be made with gratitude.  When we are thankful for the opportunity to see ourselves as we really are and confront the things that are ugly and sinful, we can find joy in the life-change the journey brings.  Without gratitude, we loose this perspective.

Any of us can find ourselves on this journey whether we live cross-culturally or not.  As life comes undone and we are stripped of all that holds meaning, gives stability, and feeds our sense of well-being, we set off on a journey of discovery and potential that can be amazing.  It can be truly life changing, if we respond in hope, humility, resolve, love, and gratitude.

It is quite easy these days to travel to amazing places and see the wonders of the world, such as the Great Pyramids of Egypt, the Taj Mahal in India, the Great Wall of China, the Colosseum in Rome, or the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul.  And yet, none of these compare to the journey my friends are on.  Already, they have more than pictures to post on Facebook or a tee-shirt to wear.  They are more aware than ever before of who they are, what needs to be changed, and who God is.  What an amazing journey!

Willie James Jennings vividly illustrates the power of imagination in The Christian Imagination: Theology and the Origins of Race (Yale, 2009).  Imagination, for Jennings, is a theological issue and represents the chief problem for modern Christianity.  In the soil from which we gain our faith and through which we learn community exists malformed ways of seeing and explaining reality that he identifies as a “diseased social imagination” (p. 6).  Jennings’ thesis is that racism finds form in imagined social reality.  And yet, his discussion could be widen to include most of the ills of society.  Habits of the mind form us into people unable to imagine ourselves living in a world other than what is – racism, poverty, abuse, and hatred.  Religion, instead of liberating us from a diseased social imagination, often provides justification and reinforces stereotypes.

Malformed imagination can be transformed when connected to and influenced by communities that embody and nurture a different vision of people and place.  The first step is to admit that my imagination, soiled by the prejudices, biases, provincialism of my context, desperately needs to be altered.  Second, I must seek to be nurtured by writers who inform me of different worlds, teachers who challenge my assumptions, and groups of people who embody an alternative vision.  I must resist the temptation to remain with those who only imagine the world as I conceive it to be and gravitate toward those who imagine what could be.

While my list of life-shaping books is quite long, I offer below my top must read books.

Transforming Mission: Paradigm Shifts in Theology of Mission by David Bosch (Orbis, 1991, 534 pages). I have plowed my way through this thick book at least ten times and have gain with each reading new perspective and insight. After discovering it in a Raleigh, North Carolina bookstore in 1997, I immediately began reading and could not stop.  Bosch was addressing for me a backlog of outstanding questions in a substantial and thoughtful manner.  Transforming Mission is a must read for anyone wanting to understand the dimensions and breadth of Christian missions and the church. As Lesslie Newbigin quips on the back cover, Bosch offers us a Summa Missiologica.

The Spontaneous Expansion of the Church and the Causes Which Hinder It by Roland Allen (originally released 1927, 157 pages). I first read Allen during my seminary days but thought his language and concepts were a bit too archaic and stilted, and thus, I missed his message. It was only later while living in a cross-cultural situation and dealing with issues related to indigenity and expansion of the church that I came to appreciate Allen’s prophetic voice. For me, no one else speaks with as much clarity and conviction to the most crucial topics of missions. Though long dead, Allen, the prophet, still speaks.

Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse in the Age of Show Business by Neil Postman (Penguin, 1985, 171 pages). When I returned to the US after many years of living abroad, I soon understood how lost I was in my native culture. One day, while in Escondido, California visiting a friend and talking a good deal about my need for an interpretive framework from which to read American church and culture, I discovered Postman in a tiny basement-like bookstore. His critique of politics, education, religion, and journalism came to me at just the right time. Even though he is now somewhat dated, his words still ring true.

Church Dogmatics by Karl Barth (T&T Clark, 1956-61, 11 volumes). When I started PhD studies, my intent was to write on Theravada Buddhism, the majority religion of Sri Lanka.  However, in a theology seminar with David Kirkpatrick, my received and dysfunctional view of God, the world, faith, and church were dismantled by Karl Barth. The questions that emerged from the semester discussion had to be resolved, so I made a colossal shift from explaining Buddhism to exploring the reality and possibility of the mission of God in and through the church. Reading the Dogmatics did not make me a ‘Barthian’, but Barth did teach me to think theologically and to view mission in an entirely different light. I am currently trying to make my way back through these old friends, all eleven of them!

Dietrich Bonhoeffer: A Biography by Eberhard Bethge (revised edition, Fortress, 2000, 1027 pages). I came across this thick, brown biography in a bookstore in Pasadena, California.  I saw it displayed in the window, and walked directly inside and purchased it. To that point I had only a passing acquaintance with Bonhoeffer’s life and writings. Bethge, a friend of Bonhoeffer, carefully and sympathetically opened for me the personal, intellectual, and spiritual life of this modern martyr.  I slowly read the thousand plus pages while unemployed and living in a cabin on a deer ranch in Huckaby, Texas.  Bonhoeffer’s integrity and resolve in the face of rising National Socialism challenged me to push ahead and live out my convictions at a difficult juncture in my life.  A new Bonhoeffer biography appeared this year – Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy, by Eric Metaxas. I hope to read it, but will surely compare it to Bethge’s Bonhoeffer.

Silence by Shusaku Endo (Taplinger, 1969, 201 pages). A student recommended that I read Silence. She had come across it while doing a paper on the history of Christianity in Japan. So, the summer following that semester, I took Silence with me on vacation and read the entire book in a two day period while sitting on a porch overlooking a valley of pine trees just outside of Winter Park, Colorado. Endo presented me with a profoundly disturbing tale of religion and culture that called into question my view of God’s universal purposes, the role of culture in conversion, and the reality of suffering. The story made such an impact that I have a hard time thinking of Colorado and pine trees without recalling images from Silence.

The Structure of Scientific Revolutions by Thomas Kuhn (University of Chicago, 1970, 210 pages).  This landmark book in scientific and intellectual thought offers a revolutionary way of thinking applicable to almost every area of life and most intellectual endeavors.  From Kuhn, I learned about paradigm shifts; how and why these occur. He challenged my views regarding progress and change, and offered me a new way of thinking about revolutions in thought. Kuhn helped me to re-conceive the categories of what it means to think, analyze, and change.

Christianity Rediscovered by Vincent J. Donovan (Orbis, first published in 1978, 169 pages). I was lunching on a spinach enchilada when the guy who was paying for the meal mentioned that he had just finished an amazing book on missions. After purchasing and reading it, I wondered why I had not heard of this book before. Donovan’s narration of his own conversion or rediscovery of Christianity is a moving story that embodies many of the contemporary themes and issues in missions.

A Spirituality of the Road by David Bosch (Wipf and Stock, 2000, previously published by Herald Press, 1979, 90 pages). The four chapters of this small book were originally presented at the Mennonite Missionary Study Fellowship in 1978. The purpose of the lectures was to readdress the tendency of spirituality to be other-worldly rather than dealing with the here and now. Bosch provided me with a needed corrective to an out-of-balance pietism that kept me from fully engaging life around me. This book first came to me as gift, and I, in turn, have bought and given away more copies than I can recall.

The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky (Penguin, 1993, originally published in Russian in 1880, 985 pages). I had been told by several people that I needed to read this book before passing from this life. They were right. During my 2007 summer trip to England and Ireland, I picked up a copy in a bookstore in London. Once I opened this fat tome, I was hooked.  On a large and rich canvas, I witnessed Dostoyevsky sketch the human drama with complex characters and open a myriad of moral, social, and theological questions,  The Brothers Karamzov is a powerful work of fiction that instructs and challenges the imagination.

Why have these books been transformative?  While some were profound in content and others were marvelously crafted, all arrived at crucial moments in my life. In most cases, I was not looking for them; they found me. I am grateful for my encounter with the lives and thoughts found within the pages of these enduring friends. 

My friend is absolutely correct for a number of reasons.

First, thoughtful speech is essential to the witness of who we are and what we believe.  If our witness to the larger questions of life, such as faith, fidelity and purpose, are to be plausible and authentic, then our speech about minor or mundane matters must be thoughtful as well.  People will fail to hear our confession of Jesus, our devotion to ideas, and our pursuit of worthy causes when dubious statements concerning politics, unfounded accusations about people, or overstatements of fact cloud our speech.  When we fall prey to juicy gossip, gross generalizations, and partisan jabs, we forfeit the opportunity to speak with credibility to ultimate concerns.  If we are to give faithful witness to who we are and what we believe, our speech in matters large and small must be thoughtful and measured.

Second, thoughtful speech is necessary if true conversation is to take place.  So much of what we call conversation is not true exchange.  Rather, it is just competing monologues.  Authentic exchange suffers when we feel we must aggressively make our point in order to be heard.  So we employ overstatements, accusations, and generalizations to ensure a hearing.  In the end, rather than being heard or opening issues for meaningful discourse, we merely trump the voice of another or shout the person down.  True conversation is a graceful art that takes place when words are offered within the tensions of humility and certainty, openness and conviction.

Third, thoughtful speech is essential for the growth of our capacity to understand and the nurture of our ability to communicate.  Because so much of the language around us is crude, brutish, and uncivil, it is easy to sink to a low level of discourse.  We may feel that in order to communicate we must likewise participate in rude banter or mean spirited exchange.  And yet, in time we become what we speak – crude, brutish, and uncivil.  Thoughtful speech, on the other hand, lifts us to a new place of understanding, elevates our level of communication, and makes us better people.

You may be thinking, “It sounds as if thoughtful speech means we say little to nothing.”  As it is, I think we say too much.  We have more than enough ability to speak and the wonderful freedom to say whatever we wish, so we open our mouths and let the words fly.  But when words flow without the benefit of thought, our tendency is to say too much about people we don’t really know, expound on topics about which we do not have first-hand knowledge, and prattle on about matters that have no meaning or bearing on anything.  And on matters that really do matter, our speech is often careless, thoughtless, and vacuous.  The irony is that for credible witness and meaningful conversation to take place, we may need to say less, not more.

In this age of verbal excess, as evidenced in constant streams of texting, posting, tweeting, blogging, and instant messaging, and in the midst of relentless violent and hateful talk, as heard and seen on our radios and televisions, we must actively pursue an alternative, more authentic, form of speech.  In order to speak thoughtfully, we must think before we open our mouths.  And in order to think before we speak, we may need to pause and have a chat with ourselves before letting words fly.  We need to ask ourselves …

• Is what I am saying what I truly believe, or am I just repeating what I have heard on the radio or television, or read in a book?
• Whose agenda or bias informs what I am saying?
• Would I want my words to be broadcast or printed for everyone, everywhere to hear or read?
• Is what I am about to say concerning this person actually true?  Would I want him or her to hear what I am about to say?
• Is what I am saying wholesome, encouraging, and for the common good, or is it crude, demeaning, and destructive?

What we say is important, if we want to be believed and trusted.  How we say what we say is essential, especially if we want to learn and grow.  Why we say what we say is crucial, because people may actually be listening and may act on what we say.

Being in control is good, isn’t it?
-When I am in control, I am able to make sure that what is best actually happens.
-When I am in control, I am able to effect the most beneficial outcomes.
-When I am in control, I am responsible and productive.
-When I am in control, I am able to effectively lead others.
-When I am in control, I able to prepare and execute plans.

Being out of control is not good, is it?
-When I am out of control, I cannot predict or anticipate what will happen next.
-When I am out of control, the outcomes are not always the best.
-When I am out of control, I look irresponsible and lazy.
-When I am out of control, others do not benefit from my leadership.
-When I am out of control, my plans come undone.

Most everything is beyond my control, isn’t it?
-When things around me fall apart, I realize I really do not control what happens.
-When my controlled outcomes hurt others, I see that I don’t always know what is best.
-When I fear looking irresponsible and unproductive, I am overly concerned with image.
-When I have to control others in order to lead, I am manipulative and scheming.
-When my plans come undone, unintended and uncontrolled forces take over.

Human nature and cultural conditioning constantly enforce within each of us the will to control.  The will to control is not just found in the high and mighty but among everyone.  Even the lowest persons in social structures and family systems seek to control someone else.  The will to control is not just in the dictator or tyrant but in me.

Because of my will to control, I obsess over each and every detail, make sure that things are done in just the right manner.  I do all that I can to ensure that nothing can possibly go awry.  I calculate each move in a conversation and every turn of the decision-making process.  I ask myself – “How can I possibly let go of the reins or release situations, when so much depends upon and is determined by my will to control?

Some of you may respond – “Well, that is just the way life is.  If you want to be party to change and progress, you must be in control or wrestle control away from others.  In this there is no high road to be taken.”  And others of you counter -”Wait a minute, those who follow the Jesus Way are meant to walk another road.  We must follow the example of Jesus, who had all power, and yet relinquish all control in hope of a higher way.”  I hear both of you, and yet, I have the sense that life is lived somewhere between what each of you are saying.  Power is a given in life and control is the reality in which we live.  It is within the context of power and control that service and love happen, so while we cannot fully embrace control neither can we ignore or dismiss it.

A way forward for me has been to acknowledge what drives my will to control.  Awareness has given me reason to let go of control and the wisdom to know when I should exert control. I mention three of these motivators or drivers.

First, my will to control can be motivated by the conviction that I know what is best for me, my family, the company, the church, the project, the decision, or whatever endeavor is in front of me.  If I know what is best, then it is necessary, even responsible, that I exert my will over others.  But I am painfully aware that I have many times been proven wrong, when I thought I was absolutely right.  I must be careful that I remain open to hear, really hear, the opinions others and am willing, really willing, to change my mind.  The will to control can blind me to others, to better ways of thinking, and to more just and loving responses.

Second, my will to control has sometimes been driven by a sense that I must come through for others.  My messianic inclinations urge me to take control of the situation, make the decision, or manage things, because people are in trouble and need me.  I must control in order to rescue people, savage the situation, and be there for others.  The truth is that when I am motivated in this way it is usually because I think too highly of who I am and what I am able to do.  Or it may be that I like having people dependent upon me.  In the end, my will to control can cripple other people’s ability to think and do for themselves and actually create unhealthy dependence,

Third, my will to control can be motivated by fear of the unknown, the different or the uncomfortable.  Threats to my way of thinking, my position of leadership, my job security, my image, or my interests can cause me to exert control over conversations, processes, and decisions surrounding my life.  And yet, experience has taught me that my worst fears can come to pass whether I am in control or not.

If you are like me, default is to take rather than release control.  To release control is risky on several levels.  And yet, I know if I do not let go, I risk opportunities for growth, freedom from worry, and possibility for the unexpected to occur.  In the balancing of my will to control or not to control, I must embrace the hope for what is beyond my limited vision of what could be and the finite perspective of my creaturely existence.  Roland Allen, a missionary statesman and prophet of the 19th century, writes,“the great things of God are beyond our control.  Therein lies a vast hope” (Spontaneous Expansion, 13).  My will must surrender to God’s will.  And in such surrender of control lies my greatest and best hope.