I had been without a voice for several weeks. After my sister’s death I made friends with bronchitis. It’s a frustrating position to be in, especially as a teacher who makes a living using my voice. I found it difficult to rest my voice long enough for my vocal chords to heal. Coincidentally, at the same time the series topic at church was titled “Finding Your Voice”. I thought that interestingly ironic. I’d been looking for weeks.
But I can lose my voice physically without the more serious issue of losing my voice in my world, which is what the sermon title prodded us to consider. How does one lose their voice in that capacity, and how would you gain it back?
One of my jobs as a teacher is to help my students find their voice. I spend a lot of time getting them to think about what they believe and why they believe it. Do they really own what they say they believe? It takes courage to sound your voice if you find everyone around you is saying something else. So in class we do a lot of activities centered on looking at both sides of an issue. Why do the people I disagree with believe what they believe? What would I say to that? At the end of the school year we embark on a series of debates, and I always enjoy watching the year’s conversations coming together.
As a Christian I also have a voice, if I care to use it. It’s easier sometimes to lose my voice and stay silent when all around me opposition is weighing in. But if I really know why I believe what I believe, what difference does it make? Their disbelief doesn’t change my belief. Why am I afraid to weigh in? What am I afraid will happen?
I have had the privilege of enjoying friendships with people who hold a broad spectrum of beliefs. Because we are friends first, there is room to “agree to disagree”. In that environment I have learned to use my voice and talk about what I believe (not just my faith, but also my politics). We have had some great conversations. I have learned different perspective. I have strengthened my beliefs and modified them.
But not everyone is so accepting. I work with a couple of people who refuse to see (or hear) me as a Christian because they totally believe that Christians are idiots who probably should not have teaching certificates, especially if they are teaching science. I say “refuse to hear” because they have accepted me as a worthy colleague, believing I have the intellectual capacity to teach, and so since my faith doesn’t fit into their stereotype they ignore it. This has allowed me to listen to some pretty harsh judgments on Christians. Many times I have chosen to keep my voice silent, just so I could hear what they have to say. Other times I have used my voice, only to have them not hear what I was saying.
One time several of us had been reading Annie Dillard and had come together to discuss what we’d read. What I love about Dillard is how she speaks of faith without being, "in your face" about it. She has a subtle voice. One of my colleagues had tried to read For The Time Being. He had to quit because he found it oppressive.
In my senior honors class I use the essay by Dillard from which that book came. The essay feels quite dark and nihilistic until you get to the end (it’s also a great example of placing your thesis at the end), where Dillard quotes English writer Malcolm Muggeridge as saying "Either life is always and in all circumstances sacred, or intrinsically of no account; it is inconceivable that it should be in some cases the one, and in some the other.” She then goes on to give a couple of examples of people making a difference where they live, doing what they can. The larger book more evenly disperses the dark with the promise of light. But it is still a very dark accounting of our world.
My colleague couldn’t get through it and wasn't sure why. There was just something about that book that bothered him so he had to stop. At the end of our discussion I went back to his feeling, and mentioned that Dillard was a believer in God. Immediately my colleague jumped on that – no wonder he’d been so creeped out, that was the reason. Yet, he’d read other things by her that he’d loved, like Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. I asked him, didn’t you hear her expressions about the creator in Pilgrim? “Creator?” he said, “She doesn’t believe in a creator does she?” Well, in that book she makes references to one. “Really, I never noticed.” Here Dillard's voice had gone unheard, mostly because it was something he didn’t want, or expect, to hear. Somehow her voice rang clearer in For The Time Being.
I believe God wants me to use my voice in the world around me. How I use it is left up to me. I don’t want people to hear harsh judgement or dogmatic exclusion. I want people to hear that I care about them; that I want to know and spend time with them. I want them to find out that I love Jesus and follow Him. I don’t want them to shut me down because I call myself a Christian. I want to surprise them with a faith that doesn’t fit their stereotype. I want them to hear my voice without censure. It’s a tricky path.
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