Whew. They’re back, and none too soon. The caucus-goers of Iowa and citizens of New Hampshire got back their late night voting guides just in time to decide who the national parties’ candidates should be. After months of missing the daily counsel of Jay Leno, David Letterman, Bill Maher, and Conan O’Brien, not to mention the earlier evening advice of Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, and their peers, at least a few of these wise guides found their way back to TV just before those key votes were cast. The world is saved.
Do I sound cynical? Well, that’s what the television comics can do to you.
On Nov. 5, a strike of the Writers Guild of America shuttered all those shows, producing a strange phenomenon: for the next two months the citizens of Iowa and New Hampshire were forced to encounter the presidential candidates directly, without TV’s popular comics showcasing Hillary’s icy persona, Rudy’s philandering, John’s hot temper, the other John’s expensive haircuts, or any other candidate caricatures. No longer were the citizenry being served a daily dose of candidates fumbling for words or tripping up the stage stairs. The candidates’ not-best-moments were not being exploited for the sake of getting cheap laughs.
As a December National Public Radio report suggested, the absence of daily mockery of the candidates forced the folks in Iowa and New Hampshire to actually get to know the candidates themselves.
Did you miss the jokesters’ monologues and routines? I did, but not really.
Over the years I’ve often stayed up just late enough to watch the opening monologue on Tonight Show or a few minutes longer to hear the day’s Top Ten on Letterman. But for some seasons over the years, I’ve chosen to abstain from watching. I did so because I realized that my quick wit had waxed cynical. Instead of making cute quips, I would zing barbs at my friends and family. Instead of using light-hearted turns of phrase in sermons, I would tell lawyer jokes, parochial preacher jokes, dumb men jokes, and the like. Something was happening to my thinking, and with that my inner spirit was being twisted. So, I chose to cut off the influence.
Indeed, my biblical self labeled the cynicism in biblical terms: worldliness. We tend to think of worldliness in terms of sexual promiscuity, drunkenness, ostentation, conspicuous consumption, and bigotry. But from where I sit, cynical mockery ranks right up there as one of the worst ways worldliness raises it ugly voice.
The Bible warns us to flee such speech, although it is most explicitly taught in parts we avoid. We tend to skim the book of James, lest it leads us into legalism, but Jesus’ brother warns us of the power of the tongue to destroy. We skip the fourteenth chapter of First Corinthians (except where it concludes, “do all things decently and in order”) due to its extensive comparison of the charismatic phenomena of prophesying and speaking in tongues. When skipping over such a discussion we miss the central theme: speak only those things that build up others.
Unfortunately, our church has been caught up into the spirit of the age, the pattern of worldly speech. Many a pulpit, many a session meeting, many a so-called “news report,” many a Web site, blog and e-mail reverberates with mockery of “those people.” Those people may be “cemeteries, er, uh, seminaries: the place where faith dies” or “mega-church pastors” or “politically correct tree huggers” or “fundamentalists” or “ecclesiastical bureaucrats” or “liberals” or “schismatics” or “pietists” or _________, well, you fill in the blank. Most of us have used one or more of them. In the process we have operated like pre-teens, making ourselves look big by making others look small.
The body of Christ has been injured, and the church’s witness to the Gospel has suffered.
We can do better. We can refuse to express mockery and caricatures of others. We also can stop others in their tracks when they do so. We can throw away periodicals, delete Web sites and tune out broadcasts that promote such communications. Our prayer groups, Bible study circles, church staff groups, and covenant groups could covenant to hold each other accountable — helping each other break the pattern of put-down communications. In effect, we can call our own strike. Who knows what might happen?
One thing I know. As that children’s saying goes, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can really hurt me.”
–JHH
