You Say It Best…

When we were dating my (now) wife made me a mix tape (yes, it was a mix tape, and yes we did exchange them). For some reason, she included the song You Say it Best When You Say Nothing At All. I’ve always wondered what she was trying to tell me. After all, I’m the guy who years later was told by an elderly member in my congregation, “Oh, you’re so young and yet when I hear you preach you can just keep talking and talking.”

One more anecdote before this post goes somewhere. My wife and I have really enjoyed watching Foyle’s War, a police drama set in Hastings, England during World War II. Chief Superintendent Christopher Foyle is a man of unflinching integrity and uncanny detective ability. He is also a man of few words. He never says more than he has to. He doesn’t waste words. Of course, it helps that Michael Kitchen is just pretending to be Foyle and has a script to follow, but still, I wish I measured my words and made them all count like Foyle.

To that end, I recommend this superb article from CCEF’s Ed Welch. He writes:

Christians have said and written plenty of words. We hear long sermons about one word in Scripture. The rite of passage for a preacher is to linger in the book of Romans for at least a year. The longer the better. Every week I walk through a seminary library that is running out of shelf space. When I set out to write a book I inevitably write too much and have to delete thousands of words.

Scripture is crammed with meaning. We have been given access to the mysteries of the universe, and we have a lot to say. And this is one of the problems in biblical counseling. Biblical counselors talk too much. Students of biblical counseling can err in a number of ways. This is in the top five.

Welch does not doubt the power of words. Nor is he suggesting we refrain from conversation. But in some situations, if I may add my own summary, you say it best when you say almost nothing at all.

Here is a basic rule of thumb. The more people are hurting – the more intense their emotions whatever the emotion might be (fear, shame, anger, despair) – the less they will be able to hear. I might think that I am offering words of life, and the words might actually be good and true words, but by the time I get to the seventh word, most people are hearing “blah, blah, blah.” Yes, there are some outstanding teachers of Scripture who can bring truth to hurting and stuck people in such a way that hearers are on the edge of their seats for . . . minutes at a time. Rapt. But none of us should assume that we are one of those people. This is why I have to say, at least once a week, “ugh, I’m sorry, I have been talking too much. Now I am going to try to just be quiet and listen.” Or, even better, to limit the word count – “I’m talking too much; your turn.” Six words.

Welch gives great examples of short sentences that say a lot. Some are responses:

• Your story doesn’t include Jesus.
• You’ve declared war on your wife.
• You’ve decided that God doesn’t love you.”

Some are honest assessments, like “What you said hurt me.”

Other succinct statements are meant to encourage:

• I am so sorry.
• Your wife died two years ago. You’re on my heart.
• I love you.

And other simple phrases can be surprisingly meaningful, like “You’re right,” or, “Join us for lunch.”

Words are precious. Don’t surround them with useless scaffolding when they can stand all by themselves. Choose your words well and use them wisely. And be prepared on occasion to use them sparingly.

HT: Challies