Confessions of a wordsmith
The week between Christmas and New Years is not onerous in our office. We show up on just enough days to ensure that we meet our publishing schedules. The break is healthy. Soon enough the regular, fast-paced rhythms and routines will resume as we work "to provide news and comment about events, issues and ideas affecting the ongoing practice of Christian faith and life in Canada." That's our mission.
It's a good mission, and we embrace it whole-heartedly. But there are times when I, for one, simply need to decompress from the demands of my profession. We traffic in words, not goods. We put great stock in words and like to think the ones we choose actually do serve our readers well. Do they encourage better attitudes? Do they inspire better activity? Do they edify? Do they entertain? Do they strengthen the right muscles? Do they inform truthfully and graciously? Do they honour Jesus Christ and the Church He loves? Those kinds of questions matter to us.
Certainly some of the words we publish do meet these purposes (and sometimes we even get to hear about it). But it behooves us to be careful with our responsibility to fill page space with words because it's very easy to act as though we have the final word. Pride is a problem in our profession. Most journalists, professors, preachers and other "vendors of words" (to use St. Augustine's phrase) ought to practise more restraint—be prepared to hit the delete button more often. Sometimes we just need to shut up.
A framed calligraphy Bible verse hangs over my desk. It says: "The Teacher searched to find just the right words, and what he wrote was upright and true" (Ecclesiastes 12:10). In tired moments I wonder if there are any among us who can maintain a high volume of high quality verbiage. How do we protect ourselves from the inane urge to simply spout off? How do we tell stories in ways without shoving abstract "solutions" into the mindscape of people with real life issues? How do we stay grounded?
For one thing, we need to keep asking ourselves the kinds of questions outlined above. We need to keep our own fallibility very much in mind, adopting a humble posture towards the readers we serve and God whom we seek to honour. That's foundational. Beyond that, we need to take constant and careful soundings from readers and advisors.
And we need to take breaks. The best thing I did one Saturday last fall was to spend many hours doing yard work. It was good for the body, good for the soul, good for the yard and good for my marriage. I like to think it was good for my writing as well.
Dear Readers:
ChristianWeek relies on your generous support. please take a minute and donate to help give voice to stories that inform, encourage and inspire.
Donations of $20 or more will receive a charitable receipt.Thank you, from Christianweek.
