Saturday, March 15, 1997

So much said, so little heard

By TOM EHRICH

Religion News Service

UNDATED - At first, it was Bill Gates' prediction that caught my eye. The next big technological thrust, said the software king, will be voice-recognition computers turning spoken words into usable bytes.

But at the very moment I was reflecting on the flood of verbiage this vision presages, I entered a post office and walked by a young woman scooping piles of mail out of a large P.O. box. When I turned around, she was standing at a trash barrel, making instant decisions on which envelopes would even get opened. More than half were tossed into the "round file." Bad news for the direct-mail marketers, whose expensive genius couldn't outwit a time-conscious secretary.

This scene at the trash barrel is bad news, too, for all those who depend on being heard, like politicians who spend millions on name recognition, get nowhere, then stoop to attack ads. Or writers, whose worthy and agonizing efforts get lost in the 55,000 books published every year. Or small businesses that might have good ideas, but can't gain visibility. Or, lately, the mob fighting for attention on the Internet.

With so much being said, less and less gets heard. Smart folks, in fact, don't bother with words any longer, but pursue image. Corporate advertisers, for example, turn to slogans like "Just do it" and "The real thing" - meta-language that signifies nothing but promises everything.

Words still matter, of course. Feel the throbbing heart of a suitor straining to hear, "I love you." Look at the way children respond to words of affirmation or criticism. Watch people relive words spoken in traumatic moments.

But witness also the words that don't get heard. Classroom instruction, for example, or a neighbor's tentative greeting, a victim's muted cry for help, or sober words exploring mind-numbing issues like Social Security or foreign trade.

Witness faith. If ever a phenomenon depended on words, it is faith. We are people of a book - Scripture - and of many books: learned writings that explain faith, devotionals that touch our hearts, our own journals. We live by words: sermons, teachings, prayers, sharing of needs, negotiation of conflict.

The words of faith, however, have stiff competition: consumer mailings that are better done, media figures who present more polished messages, and just the sheer volume of words pouring into the normal household.

In response, many congregations are asking for more of people's time for the words of faith. They offer midweek worship, sharing groups, faith-centered schools, men's breakfasts, study groups, and personal ministries. Some offer a complete environment where "only God is spoken."

Some clergy have stopped trying to be latter-day village parsons, strolling around the green and calling people by name. They have become communicators, who use whatever modern means their congregations can afford, to reach a scattered and distracted flock. Eager congregations pour millions into auditoriums (places to hear words) and multimedia systems, as well as sophisticated mailing systems.

Personally, I think we will lose the war of words. We can't spend enough or simplify our message enough to compete with words in a noisy world. But to be honest, we may have said too much already.

Christians say far more about Jesus than he said on his own behalf. He said very little, in fact. Mostly he told stories. No definitions, no theses, no systematic theology. The Lord's Prayer is only 65 words in English. We write entire books to explain those 65 words.

But by saying too much, we may have conveyed too little. The heart of the monastic tradition, after all, is silence, not talk.

It may be that because we cannot afford to keep up in the war of words, we will drop out and rediscover silence and disciplined language. Maybe the faith community's gift to a noisy world won't be more words, but the "sound of silence" and the gift of serenity.

(Tom Ehrich is an Episcopal priest in Winston-Salem, N.C., an author and former Wall Street Journal reporter. E-mail him at journey(at)interpath.com.)