“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.” - Inigo Montoya in The Princess Bride
I don’t like to go all “old man yells at sky” but I am going to indulge for a moment: College football is presently hellbent on rendering parts of the English language meaningless. It all started back in 1990 when the Big Ten Conference added Penn State and raised their membership to eleven. It was actually kind of cute and fun back then; they even hid a number 11 in their logo. But those were simpler times.
That conference is collecting schools like Pokémon and the Big Ten will soon have 18 teams. The Big 12 Conference, which had recently dipped below a dozen members, will have 16 teams next year.
The Southeastern Conference did their damage in the realm of geography. They stretched the concept of the southeast by adding Missouri and Texas A&M several years ago and are soon adding both Oklahoma and Texas. “But wait,” you might say, “isn’t Texas a part of the South?” No. And that question is how I know you are not from the South or Texas.
Yet the most egregious offender for my money is the Atlantic Coast Conference. The ACC began whittling away at the idea of “Coast” when they added schools like Pittsburgh, Louisville, and (kinda) Notre Dame; all are in landlocked states. Yet recently they saw all the other conference flouting the concepts of numbers and geography and said, “Screw it, we’re going to add schools in states that border the Gulf of Mexico and the PACIFIC OCEAN to the Atlantic Coast Conference.”
It felt good to get that off my chest. Thank you.
Language is a limited thing. They are word symbols for objects and ideas that can range from the simple to the deeply complex. Words on their own have a difficult time fully conveying something in reality. It gets even more complicated in a world where people can mean completely different things when they use the same word. Words like “liberal,” “conservative,” “woke,” and more can have wildly different connotations depending on who is using the word. It’s no wonder that we have a hard time communicating.
Of course, language needs to evolve as civilization transforms around it. Yet as someone who really loves words, I struggle with the fact that what I say does not always convey what I want my words to say. That reality has been on my mind a great deal of late.
For the first time in seven years, I am working outside the church. I am serving as a Community Schools Coordinator in a public school. The simplest description of my job is I try to help connect the students, families, and teachers of the school with their needs and try to better connect the outside community to the school.
When people ask what I used to do, I’m aware of the fact that saying I was a minister (I’m talking vocationally; I’m still a minister as is every Christian) could mean lots of different things to lots of different people. When I say that I am a Christian or am a minister, that can perhaps mean something to someone that I do not want to convey. When I talk to someone who is a refugee or from the LGBTQ+ community, their experience with white, straight churchgoing people might not be positive. Heck, there are people in non-marginalized groups who don’t have positive experiences with those folks.
It does not feel right to tap-dance around who I am and what’s important to me. I mean, I work at a public school. I am not here to proselytize people. I just want them to know that, regardless of whatever experience they may have had, that I want to help and serve. But it’s not really fair to expect people to believe that at the start. I can’t worry myself with being misunderstood. I have no right for my definition of a Christian to usurp someone else’s experience. The responsibility is on me to make sure that my actions align as best they can with what I want my words to convey. I will definitely fail in this endeavor, but I’m supposed to try.
Because at the end of the day, it is what we do that gives weight to our words. Saying that you love a person or you want to help someone is fairly meaningless if you don’t actually back it up. It calls to mind, the oft-used quote from Francis of Assisi: “Preach the gospel at all times and use words if necessary.” If you want someone to see that your faith is full of love and compassion for everyone then live that out. Show that the words we use mean what we think they mean. Then maybe “Christian” won’t go the way of “atlantic” and “coast.”