I've been mulling over this verse a lot lately in light of blogging, social media, and the online hemisphere in general.
I rather love the concept of blogging - I think it's a great way to come together as a community and learn to better listen to other people's opinions, stories, and ideas. And since blogging isn't limited to any one person, it's a great way for people to listen to people different from themselves, stories from the margins, voices that are usually silenced. Even though blogging is usually seen in a more casual light, I've learned SO MUCH from reading different blogs and letting their words sink in to my heart and my head, whether or not I agree with them. From my short time exploring the blogosphere, I truly believe it has not only challenged and expanded my line of thinking, but increased my capacity for love and truth and grace.
That being said, it hits me every so often how much power I have as a blogger. Literally, I can write whatever I want and post it for the whole world to see. Now, obviously, my platform isn't big enough to actually reach the whole world. But there are no limits to blogging, there are no parameters. Just a bunch of writers posting whatever they want to say about whatever topic they choose.
For all of its great benefits, blogging also makes it a whole lot easier to be quick to speak and slow to listen.
And in all honesty, that kind of scares me.
A few months ago, I took down my initial posting on sexuality and the church and replaced it with a new one. This happened after I had taken the time to slow down and listen, actually listen, to other voices and stories I had been ignoring up to that point. I had an urge to write about a popular topic that I kept hearing about, and so I jumped in headfirst without pausing to think about how I was being ignorant, naive, stereotypical or hurtful in the process. Thank God for Grace.
A similar thing happened recently after hearing Emma Watson's UN speech on gender equality. I absolutely loved her overarching message, and felt a real emotional connection with it, and had a sudden urge to scream my overwhelming praises RIGHT NOW THIS VERY INSTANT. And I still absolutely agree with a lot of her main points in the speech. But after letting my emotions and opinions simmer for a bit, I opened up my mind to reading other people's opinions, reactions and stories to the speech, coming across a lot of little details I had missed in my initial frantic desire to speak now and listen later. I ended up updating that same blog post after having time to re-collect my thoughts. Thank God for Grace.
Now, I'm not saying that no one can have an opinion, or that every blog post must fall in line with what everyone else is saying. Part of the beauty of blogging is being able to tell your story and state your opinion for others to see. It's a very vulnerable thing to do.
But I like to think about whatever I'm blogging about as a face-to-face conversation with someone else. If I sit down for coffee with a friend to talk with them about whatever blog post I'm currently writing - what would I say? Better yet, how would I say it? Would I yell my opinions at the top of my lungs and leave no room for my friend to speak or interject or ask questions? Hopefully not.
I like to think of blogging as more of a conversation, versus a speech. I like to blog as if I'm interacting and talking with people, versus talking at them.
Rachel Held Evans does a fantastic job of this with her "Ask A..." series. In it, she offers up the platform to a variety of different people, some of whom she heavily disagrees with, and lets her readers ask them whatever questions they have about a certain topic. Due to the incredible diversity of her blog's readership, she acknowledges on her Facebook page,
"Sometimes that diversity leads to conflict. That's okay. Let's press on with as much grace for one another as we can muster, while still holding our positions with conviction and our stories with loving care."
This is what I'm talking about. It's not about watering down our views or agreeing with every single person we meet. It's about being able to actively engage with and listen to others, not because we agree or disagree with them, but because as human beings and children of God, everyone has a voice and a story that deserves to be heard. And along the way, maybe slowing down to listen to them will help mold or grow our views as we take shaky steps down the path of Love and Truth and Grace.
My dear friend and excellent blogger, Shelby Ray, frequently writes posts to raise awareness of people experiencing homelessness. She is constantly coming back to the idea of listening to people and treating them as image bearers of God. In her latest post (which you should definitely go read and then re-read seventeen times), she says,
I work at a homeless shelter in South Minneapolis and on a regular basis I am encountering men and women who "have no voice," not because they cannot speak, but because no one has chosen to listen. I am interacting with downcast souls that are regularly being stripped of their humanity because they don't even have people to share their stories with... I get to be one less person to see them as a problem. I get to be one more person who interacts with them like a human being, with a mind and a story.
See what I mean? Quick to listen, slow to speak. I am continually inspired by Shelby and her great love for Jesus and people. Remember, it doesn't take much to listen. Only a willingness to stop talking for a bit and open our ears to what someone else is saying. And yet I think it's often easier to be quick to speak and slow to listen. Maybe that's why James felt the need to tell his brothers and sisters to "take note of this."
During my spring break trip last year, we kept circling back to this point as one of the first steps to engaging in racial reconciliation. Quick to listen, slow to speak.
One of the things I hear the most from gay people wounded by Christians and the church is the fact that no one wants to slow down and listen to their stories, only preach their beliefs (that they already know) at them. Quick to listen, slow to speak.
As Shelby mentioned above, it's about interacting with people as human beings, not problems. Quick to listen, slow to speak.
The truth is, I don't have all the answers. I rarely know what to say, let alone how to say it well. But listening doesn't require any words, fortunately. Just a little extra patience, sometimes.
Now, I still fully plan on holding my beliefs with conviction, and trying hard not to shy away from sharing those on the inside cardboard world. That's part of what blogging is all about, anyway.
But I'm also going to try hard to be careful, steadfast, and gracious on this journey, not taking advantage of the ease of blogging by charging forward and ignoring the voices of those around me. Quick to listen, slow to speak is now plastered on my computer desktop, so it's the first thing I see every time I sit down to write. I wrote the following paragraph last year for the "About Me" section of this blog, but I think it will serve as a perfect conclusion for this post.
Because the truth is, I can write and write and write on here until my fingers wear out and my eyes grow blurry from staring at the computer screen. But it doesn't mean a thing if it's not written in the context of community, surrounded by different voices and different people with a vast array of stories and quirks and favorite bands. This blog can't just be about me talking at you, but me talking with you. Let's create a dialogue and foster conversation. Don't be afraid to comment, to question, to like, to dislike, to be.
Quick to listen, slow to speak.
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