“God is in heaven and you are on earth, so let your words be few,” Ecclesiastes 5:2.
Jesus said, “And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words,” Matthew 6:7.
Quality counts more than quantity in our relationship with God.
The same is true in our dealings with people. When it comes to words, less is usually more. In Proverbs 10:19 it says, “When words are many, sin is not absent,” (I find that verse humorous, it reminds of the same kind of purposeful exaggeration as when Jesus said, “take the plank out of your own eye”). It makes the point!
The book of James has some very tough things to say about our speech: “The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole person…” (James 3:6).
It’s amazing how much damage can be done with words. There are the obvious sins of lying, slander and gossip. But sometimes people are guilty of the lesser ‘crime’ of just talking too much, of not leaving room for what the other person might want to say.
I’d like to talk specifically of those times when less is more. When our lack of words has more power and gives more help.
When people are really hurting, they probably don’t need answers, they just need someone to listen. Answers, if there are any, can come later. The best thing to do is to let them talk and to pay attention to them while they talk. You allow them to transfer some of their grief to you and their load is lightened a bit. It’s a gift you can give.
I know there are times when I wished I had said less, when I wish I had practiced ‘less is more’. Sometimes I was too quick to give advice.
But sometimes I think I got it right. Two examples come to mind. The circumstances could not be more different.
I was a pastor in my first church. It was in a small town in rural Oklahoma. We had a church member who was very successful. He was a prominent man. Solid family. A former principal of the high school. He had a beautiful house on the highway with a barn out back where he kept horses. He owned two farms and did much of the farming himself with his own equipment. He was also active in church things, having served on many committees at the local and district level. He was successful in every way.
Then one of his farms was hit with a devastating hailstorm. The wheat crop was destroyed. It seemed meaningful to him that I, as his pastor, see it. We rode up together in his truck. There it was–ruined fields. All his work was wasted. He didn’t need advice (not that I had any to give anyway), but just seemed to want someone who could understand and sympathize and know the extent of what happened.
I was honored that this man trusted me with his vulnerability. My job as pastor that day was to listen and absorb his sadness.
The second example (as I said, the circumstances could not have been more different) was in my last church, in Saigon, Vietnam. I received a call from a stranger. It was a lady from Singapore who needed a pastor to talk to. She would be bringing her daughter and mother-in-law. We arranged to meet in the pews of the church sanctuary.
With her daughter and mother-in-law sitting near, she told of how she had discovered that her husband had taken on a Vietnamese mistress during his business trips to the city. She said he was “under her spell.” She tearfully wondered how he could do this to his family. She was devastated by her husband’s adultery, and he wouldn’t change his ways.
What could I do to solve the problem? Nothing. There was no advice to give. She just needed someone to talk to, who would understand her grief. She was a stranger–I saw her that one time and never again. But I could listen, sympathize and pray during that one encounter.
Sometimes we just need to be like a sponge and absorb people’s grief. We need to practice restraint and resist the temptation to solve the problem.
“Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak…” (James 1:19).
Whether in small-town Oklahoma or an Asian mega-city, people are basically the same. Sometimes they just need someone to listen; someone they can vent to. In the times when we are trusted to be that person, let’s give them the gift of letting our words be few.
Until next week,
Dean Coonradt
As a First Grade teacher, each day I gave my students a small sermon. The topics usually had to do about good character traits, being thankful/respectful, and being a child which is practice for being an adult. I would always say that I can tell you anything but unless I show you, my words are meaningless. We don’t need to talk the talk as much as we need to walk the walk.