The Personal Touch in a Cyber World

Facebook and Twitter are sources of amusement and information for me. I’m not that into posting things on either, but I like seeing other people’s posts. I did get really animated while taking prednisone for bronchitis two football seasons ago. I found myself posting tweets throughout the game. I literally couldn’t stop. I was typing like a banshee and faster than the TV announcers. It was hilarious! Someone later remarked that they hoped I was going to keep posting during future games because it was such a hoot. No way!

You know the drill. Posting on social media is such an interesting way to chronicle our daily lives. Some people tell us everything from their latest meal including a photo, to how well their vacation is going. It doesn’t bother me. It lets me know what’s going on in my friends’ lives. Of course, I don’t want or need to know everything. I am extremely grateful for the posts that ask for prayer. The ones that border on narcissism don’t do much for me. Occasionally I will unfriend someone if they become so self-absorbed or xenophobic about their particular brand of whatever. Racism, political hubris and anything like elitism is more than I can bear, except, of course, when it comes to my favorite college football team. That’s fine.

Some people spend an inordinate amount of time posting or messaging their minute by minute status. It makes one wonder how much work they’re getting done. I do like Twitter’s 140 character limit, but some folks string their tweets together like an unending stream of consciousness. Facebook is where I mainly troll. I call it “trolling” because that’s what I do. I did it as a District Superintendent to see what was going on with the clergy and churches, and especially to find out if anyone was posting something that they shouldn’t. On more than one occasion there were posts that were inappropriate and told me more than anyone’s results on their battery of psychological tests. Not a good thing. Won’t you agree that our use of social media says a lot about who we are? I guess my blogging does the same thing about me.

Truth be told, I prefer Pinterest because I learn new information, styles, DIY projects, and great ideas on any preferred subject. I hardly ever pin anything. Pinterest is more informational than social. Facebook allows me to wish my friends’ a “Happy Birthday,” etcetera. I sometimes shed tears when a deceased friend’s birthday pops up. I’m torn between going ahead and sending salutations or not. All in all, social media is a great thing, if we look up more than we look down at our pocket computers or at our desktop central commands. Social media is a great thing if it promotes community, and if we know proper boundaries. What we put out there is permanent! You can go back and edit a post but it’s going to have “edited” up in the right hand corner. By then it’s too late. We must use caution!

Don’t misunderstand me. I like this new-fangled world we live in, but I don’t want my cyber-life to take more time than my real life. I can text with the best of them and enjoy using internet slang. I’m fond of the abbreviations of “smh” – “Shaking my head,” “lol” – “Laughing out loud,” or my personal favorite, “IMHO” – “In my honest opinion.” Of course, here’s where it all gets tough for me. Can I truly express my honest opinion with all of its give and take; i.e., “Well I like this, but here’s another approach.” I can talk faster than I can type plus verbal communication has nuances and tones that communicate much more than some cute emoji. I can’t tell if someone is being ironic, sarcastic, or for real when our social interaction is reduced to initials and symbols.

I recently had a situation where someone texted me and I wasn’t at all sure whether they meant one thing or another, so I didn’t respond. Later we saw each other and he asked me why I didn’t text back. I told him I wasn’t sure what he meant. He then explained that what he said was sarcastic. I pulled up the text, showed it to him and asked, “How was I supposed to figure that out?” Well, we finally understood each other. Have you ever gotten a text and without face-to-face interaction you had no clue what the real or hidden meaning was?

I guess the point of this blog is to say a couple of things: be careful with what you post because it says a lot about who you are; beware any communication that’s a one-way street because that doesn’t promote real community; and make sure you look up more than you look down at a screen because people are real and we need to be heart readers more than twitter followers.

There’s a story that gets at what I’m trying to say. There was an anthropologist who regularly went to a small village in western Africa and spent time poking around and learning the culture. During one visit she discovered a collection of new TV sets stacked 4 deep in a hut at the edge of the village. The village had acquired electricity just a few years earlier, and, no doubt, some manufacturer or benefactor had presented the village with the wonderful TV’s. The anthropologist was confused by the fact that they weren’t being used, so she went to talk to the village chief. She asked him why they didn’t use the televisions. He replied, “We have our storyteller.” The anthropologist pressed further, “Maybe so, but television has the capacity of thousands of stories.” “That’s true,” said the chief, “but our storyteller knows us.”

In all our social media platforms, never let us forget that the best way to enrich society and community is through personal contact. Superficial cyber relationships are important, but are nothing compared to intimate personal knowledge and face-to-face interaction. A pastor who’s up on all the latest in social media is great, but most people want one that “knows” them. Do both well and it will be an improvement.

 

Southern Passive-Aggressive Behavior

Southerners are known for their manner of speech. A woman from the South was talking to her young son about why all their relatives from the North talk funny. “They have a different accent,” she explained. “Everybody talks in different ways,” she continued and added, “To them, we sound like we talk very slowly, and all our words are drawn out.” The little boy’s eyes got big and he asked, “You mean they hear funny, too?” We all talk in a manner that is peculiar to our region or even our families. For instance, my mother used a phrase about people, women in particular that exasperated her or had questionable morals. She said that they were a “big six.” I have no clue what she meant, but if you do, please let me know! I’ve been trying to figure it out for years!

Southerners are truly exceptional at indirect speaking and passive-aggressive behavior. I have been at the dinner table with Southerners and instead of daring to ask directly that someone pass the salt, the proper way to do it is, “Would you like some salt?” The acceptable response is, “No, but would you like some?” which is the cue to say, “Certainly.” Why not just come out and ask for the blooming salt? What if they said that they did want some salt and you were stuck sitting there inwardly fuming because they didn’t know the unwritten rules of indirect communication?

This, of course, leads to passive-aggressive behavior. Southerners are famous for this, especially church people. We hate to launch an attack at someone in a frontal assault. It would be so unbecoming, Darling! Maybe you’ve heard about the two Southern Belles who were sitting on a veranda one day. Darlene said to Billie Jo, “See the red Cadillac over under the magnolia. My husband Billy Bob just handed me the keys one day and said I’d look good in it. It wasn’t my birthday or anniversary or anything.” Billie Jo replied, “How nice.” Then Darlene said, “You know last year he sent me on a ten-day cruise and said here’s a few thousand dollars to buy some new clothes to wear. I’m not going to go with you. I want you to look good. You dance with whomever you want to.” Billie Jo responded, “How nice.” Next Darlene pointed out her 4 carat diamond and said, “Last year Billy Bob just up and gave me this diamond. It wasn’t my birthday or our anniversary. He just said he thought I deserved it.” Billie Jo responded again, “How nice.” Finally Darlene said, “Why Billie Jo, I’ve been going on and on about all these things that Billy Bob has done for me. Has your husband ever done anything like this for you?” Billie Jo replied, “Why yes, last year he sent me to charm school. Now instead of saying ‘Up ______, I say “How nice.”

Passive-aggressive behavior is what Jesus got a lot from the Pharisees. They asked roundabout questions trying to trap him. They said something that seemed innocuous, but meant something more subtle yet sinister. Passive-aggressive behavior is like that. It comes off as harmless but really is aggressive. It’s like someone asking you, “Do you think that color looks good on you?” Sounds simple but will make you think all day that you must look horrid in that color. Maybe someone will ask you, “Do you like your hair like that?” Sounds like a fair question, but there’s nothing fair about it. It’s an indirect passive-aggressive insult because they want to say that your hair doesn’t look so great, but they don’t want to be too direct in their attack. After all, such an explicit remark might hurt your feelings.

Why can’t we say what we mean, and mean what we say. Rather than triangle in another subject or person, shouldn’t we care enough about each other to talk plainly? Southerners and diplomats need to quit quibbling here and there trying to sound all nice and cordial and get to the point. We could avoid more than a few spats and wars and get over the tension more quickly. Seems like the Bible says something about, “Speaking the truth in love.”

I’ll never forget the kick I got out of my Dad and the Yankee. This particular woman had been visiting his Edgefield Pottery museum, cataloging every piece for a book she was writing, and picking up and photographing every piece to his silent but obvious dismay. After a day of quiet exasperation, he was ready for her to leave. In typical passive-aggressive Southern fashion he said, “Wouldn’t you like to stay for supper?” She replied, “Sure!” He was cooked. He threw something together, we ate, and then she wanted coffee of all things. After she finally left, Daddy blasted her for being rude, staying for supper and so forth. I said, “You invited her.” To say the least, he didn’t think that my lack of sympathy exhibited proper decorum. She simply didn’t understand Southern passive-aggressive behavior.

We would rather shift the focus to someone or something else to avoid being direct, and it only complicates our misunderstandings more. I hope that today I will exhibit speaking the truth in love without sugarcoating it so much that the message is muddled or missed. We must care enough to confront or we don’t care enough!

What Did I Hear?

This past week I was in Nashville doing workshops and helping preside at the United Methodist Campus Ministry Association’s biennial meeting. The keynote speaker was Peter Rollins an Irish philosopher and Emergent Church dude that spoke so fast it felt like I was on the receiving end of a fire hydrant. All the way home I called him the Irish Fire Hydrant. He had a lot of interesting things to say. I just didn’t have enough time between sentences to absorb what was being said. It was a stream of consciousness presentation. It was hard to follow.

We all know the feeling. I know a few preachers, and I resemble the remark, that can get so tongue-tied that what’s said is barely intelligible. In the homiletics field a verbal faux-pas is called a “spoonerism.” Examples include: A lack of pies (A pack of lies), It’s roaring with pain (It’s pouring with rain), and Wave the sails (Save the whales). They are named after the Rev. W.A. Spooner who lived from 1844 to 1930. He served as Dean and Warden of New College at Oxford University. He was said to unknowingly make verbal slips frequently. His verbal goofs were especially legendary at chapel services. Once when officiating at a wedding it was reported that he gave the following directions to the groom: “Son, it is now kisstomary to cuss the bride.” Not good!

Preachers aren’t the only ones who say things that are taken the wrong way. One of my favorite stories of miscommunication is the one about a “snowbird” from the North who wanted a week’s vacation at a Florida campground, but was concerned about the accommodations. Uppermost in her mind were the toilet facilities, but she was too proper to write “toilet” in her letter to the campground owner. She finally abbreviated “bathroom commode” to “BC” and asked in her letter if the campground had its own “BC.” The campground owner was baffled by this euphemism, so he showed it around, but nobody knew what it meant. Finally, someone said, “Oh, that’s simple. ‘BC’ means ‘Baptist Church.’ She’s asking whether the campground has its own Baptist Church.” So the owner sat down and wrote: “Dear Madam, I’m sorry about the delay in answering your letter, but I am pleased to inform you that a BC is located just nine miles north of the campground and is capable of seating 250 people at one time. I admit it is quite a distance away if you are in the habit of going regularly, but no doubt you will be pleased to know that a great number of people take their lunches along and make a day of it. They usually arrive early and stay late. The last time my wife and I went was six years ago, and it was so crowded we had to stand up the whole time we were there. It may interest you to know that there is a supper planned to raise money to buy more seats. They’re going to hold it in the basement of the BC. I would like to say that it pains me greatly not to be able to go more regularly, but it is surely no lack of desire on my part. As we grow older, it seems to be more of an effort, especially in cold weather. If you decide to come to our campground, perhaps I could go with you the first time, sit with you and introduce you to all the folks. Remember, this is a friendly community.”

How can we straighten out our communication? Key to both good communication and love is listening, thinking things through before they’re said (or written). Someone said that fifty years after his family had left Germany, Walter Kissinger was asked why he didn’t share his famous brother Henry’s heavy German accent. “I,” he replied, “am the Kissinger who listens.” Amen!

Saying What You Mean, and Meaning What You Say

As I embark on a new week of lecturing and learning with my classes at Emory, I’m hoping to communicate clearly. I’ll also be preaching Wednesday night at Cannon Chapel. I have been known to stick my foot in my mouth. I’m pretty sure that I’m not alone.

I know a few preachers, and I resemble the remark, that can get so tongue-tied that what’s said is barely intelligible. In the homiletics field a verbal faux-pas is called a “spoonerism.” Examples include: A lack of pies (A pack of lies), It’s roaring with pain (It’s pouring with rain), and Wave the sails (Save the whales). They are named after the Rev. W.A. Spooner who lived from 1844 to 1930. He served as Dean and Warden of New College at Oxford University. He was said to unknowingly make verbal slips frequently. His verbal goofs were especially legendary at chapel services. Once when officiating at a wedding it was reported that he gave the following directions to the groom: “Son, it is now kisstomary to cuss the bride.” How awful!

 

Preachers aren’t the only ones who say things that are taken the wrong way. One of my favorite stories of miscommunication is the one about a “snowbird” from the North who wanted a week’s vacation at a Florida campground, but was concerned about the accommodations. Uppermost in this person’s mind were the toilet facilities, but the person was too proper to write “toilet” in a letter to the campground owner. The inquirer finally abbreviated “bathroom commode” to “BC” and asked in the letter if the campground had its own “BC.” The campground owner was baffled by this euphemism, so he showed it around, but nobody knew what it meant. Finally, someone said, “Oh, that’s simple. ‘BC’ means ‘Baptist Church.’ The letter writer is asking whether the campground has its own Baptist Church.” So the owner sat down and wrote: “To Whom It May Concern: I’m sorry about the delay in answering your letter, but I am pleased to inform you that a BC is located just nine miles north of the campground and is capable of seating 250 people at one time. I admit it is quite a distance away if you are in the habit of going regularly, but no doubt you will be pleased to know that a great number of people take their lunches along and make a day of it. They usually arrive early and stay late. The last time my wife and I went was six years ago, and it was so crowded we had to stand up the whole time we were there. It may interest you to know that there is a supper planned to raise money to buy more seats. They’re going to hold it in the basement of the BC. I would like to say that it pains me greatly not to be able to go more regularly, but it is surely no lack of desire on my part. As we grow older, it seems to be more of an effort, especially in cold weather. If you decide to come to our campground, perhaps I could go with you the first time, sit with you and introduce you to all the folks. Remember, this is a friendly community.”

 

How can we straighten out our communication before we let the ship hit the sand? Key to both good communication and love is listening, thinking things through before they’re said (or written). Someone said that fifty years after his family had left Germany, Walter Kissinger was asked why he didn’t share his famous brother Henry’s heavy German accent. “I,” he replied, “am the Kissinger who listens.” Amen!