Words matter: those written or whispered as well as those heard, read or thought.
When my Mama was a young girl, her Papa reached into the family’s emergency savings jar to draw out coins to purchase streetcar tokens. Only change made it into that small container. The emergency? My grandfather needed the fare so his daughter could go with him to hear one of the famous orators holding revival meetings in Chicago. This time it was Gypsy Smith.
As they raced to catch the streetcar, Papa preached to his audience of one.
“Margaret, you must learn to pay attention to words. There are artists who make works of art with oil and brush, but there are others who paint pictures with words. Learn to use words well.”
She did. Mama spoke to thousands and wrote 15 books after the age of sixty-five, when most folks are retiring. To her the greatest sin was sitting still. The Margaret Jensen Theatre is named in her honor. So I think of her when I sit, uncomfortably, on black boxes. Hard reminders that, by nature, I’m a wiggler.
But this is not about Mama or me. It’s about you and what you do with the words you’ll hear or use in these last days of the school year and after you’ve left Gordon to follow God’s call on your life in fresh directions. Consider these simple phrases: “ I love you,” “ please forgive me,” “thank you so much,” “I forgive you,” or “I’m listening.” Do you need to hear or speak any of these words?
When you pack up to head away from campus, think about a place for words. Hosea wrote to the children of Israel, “Take words with you, and return to the Lord. Say to Him, ‘Forgive all our sins and receive us graciously, that we may offer the fruit of our lips.’” (Hosea 14:2)
Recently we were privileged to experience the power and joy of community in the AJ Gordon chapel through WE ARE GORDON. Hopefully, being part of Gordon means that we are people of our word. We keep our commitments. We guard our speech. We use words to build not to tear down. We learn to listen, not just speak.
My grandmother completed just eight years of formal education in Norway before coming to this country to work as a maid in New York City. She was just fifteen years old. The Jewish women she worked for taught her to speak English and showed her how to use the New York Public Library. My grandmother loved to read and memorize poetry. She became wise and a life-long learner.
One day, when I was a young girl, she took me aside to teach me the power of words through a poem she’d memorized.
“Boys flying kites haul in their white winged birds
You can’t do that when you’re flying words.
Once spoken, though you wish them left unsaid,
God, Himself, can’t kill them, make them dead.”
Not the best poetry, but great wisdom. I cherish memories of sneaking peeks at my grandmother cradling her Bible...reciting, not reading page after page. It reminded me of the old prophet Jeremiah who wrote, “When your words came, I ate them; they were my joy and my heart’s delight, for I bear your name, O Lord God Almighty.” (Jeremiah 15:16)
In a short while the seniors will graduate and most of you will leave to go home or travel and work all over this country and the world. Remember the privilege and responsibility that you bear His Name and have within easy reach the Word of God. I challenge you to take words with you. Words that heal and reconcile. Words that challenge people to think. Words that infect the world you’re in with love and joy and peace. Words filled with hope. It won’t be easy but it will be easier when you remember to fill up on God’s Word.
Eugene Peterson writes in THE MESSAGE his paraphrase of Colossians 3:16 “Let the Word of Christ—the Message—have the run of the house. Give it plenty of room in your lives. Instruct one another using good common sense. And sing, sing your hearts out to God! Let every detail in your lives—words, actions, whatever—be done in the name of the Master, Jesus, thanking God the Father every step of the way.”
Words matter. God’s and yours.
