A New Attempt at Communication

Trying to raise kids has made me think a lot about what I am communicating, not only the words I choose, but the tone I use, and how my body language changes the meaning.

I think I over-estimate the power of words and underestimate both tone and body language. This is leading me to try a new four-step approach to communication.

1. Listen
2. Communicate as much as possible with just my body.
3. Ask questions
4. Speak

Point 2 is going to be the real test. I communicate so much with what I say, because words give a sense of solidity and clarity (however false this sense might be). But I also find that words can get me into trouble with myself. I regularly find myself saying, "Why did I say that?" or more often, "Why didn't I speak up and say this?"

So I'm going to focus on using my body to tell people what I want, need, and how I feel about them. We'll see what happens.

Trees Blasting into the Air

Every year around this time, as I think about whether it is worth it or not to go to a fireworks show, I think about trees.

Why trees? Because I like to imagine that to God, with his better sense of time, trees look like fireworks. They quickly shoot out of the ground. Their buds and leaves and flowers are but a single sparkle, repeated each season to create an effect like twinkling stars. Then the tree falls back to earth and another takes its place.

What to us is solid and majestic, might really be dramatic and delightful.

Artisan Faith

I love making bread. This is quickly (and easily) expanding to include pizza crust as well. Making good bread yourself is an easy and forgiving process, where even "mistakes" often taste great.

Like a lot of other things to do with food, there is a push to use local flours (with pizza, local toppings). This is opposed to buying bread made in factories, filled with unnecessary preservatives, that is uniform but bland, not only in comparison to locally made artisan bread, but objectively bland when a person takes the time to actually taste it.

There is an important parallel to churches here.

Sometimes our churches are like a franchise branch of a faith, sent down from corporate offices. Want to start a church? Here is the handbook that outlines what the building should look like, what employees/congregants should wear, what language to use; here is the magic formula for the secret sauce.

But what about a church that acts like the local baker, who uses local ingredients, takes risks, is always looking to improve her craft, learning from people who do things differently, appreciating what other bakers are doing, even if she thinks her way is better? It is a sad state of affairs when our ability to appreciate food from other cultures exceeds our ability to appreciate expressions of faith from other people within our own culture.

What kind of bread are you eating in your church?