Words. It’s funny how they are fundamental in sharing an idea with another, and yet they can be the most elusive. They are swallowed by fear. They run from confrontation. Overused, the impact of brave, thundering phrases become meek and shallow.
Words. We can hear and read the words, but do we always know what they mean? And when we know what they mean, does that mean we understand what they are trying to tell us?
I am exposed to words everyday. In my classes, while I’m on the phone at work, when I’m sitting in the back of the coffee shop on the 13 Avenue, when I’m sitting in my bed falling asleep to the lyrics of Dahlia and Moby. When I’m reading the newspaper, when I’m instant messaging my friends, when I’m eating lunch in the Memorial Union, when I’m on the bus to Portland. Sitting in the pews at church, when I’m driving in my car and the radio is on too loud, when I’m eating dinner with my family, when I’m at the doctor’s office.
I am exposed to words everyday. Thousands, millions of words. Do I know what the words are trying to tell me?
Words, if heard just enough times from just the right person, can have just enough impact to create just the right kind of emotion to raise just the right questions to cause just the right amount of compliance to just the right reasons.
Think about it.
We’ve seen it dozens of times throughout history. Every revolution started with the right speech or the right phrase or the right emphasis on the right people to cause the right kind of action that left us staring with disbelief and disgust, turning not to our neighbors or children or lover, but to our soul to ask the question that begs the answer: Dear God, how could that happen?
Revolutions are not things that happen quickly. By definition, they are a “drastic and far-reaching change in ways of thinking and behaving.” They start with the right kind of speech (phrase or emphasis) that make you feel safe. They make you feel like someone is fighting for you personally. They make you feel like This will change everything. Change for the better. Change for freedom, change for safety. Change from whatever it is you fear most. Abandonment, poverty, disease, even death.
The book 1984 is a prime example of words being carefully crafted to cause the complacency that happens when people become comfortable with the idea that politicians can create that Change. Historical revolutions did the same thing. Most totalitarian governments did it, too. With words. It’s not until after the words have served their function that the governments can then use force to wield their true purpose. You have to say “yes” first.
Governments aren’t the only ones to do this. Religion has an interesting way of inserting just the right phrase into just the right context so it has just the right message. And, of course, as they say, if it’s from a holy text you can’t argue with it.
I wonder about that sometimes. There’s a new movie that just came out last Friday, you might have heard of it, called V for Vendetta. The Matrix creators produced it. I’m not writing a review, but the movie brought up several points, most of which I just mentioned. In the movie, a futuristic Britain is under the control of a totalitarian government. Their leader is Chancellor Sutler, who in my opinion is an obnoxious and terrifying fascist dictator. If Adolf Hitler and Pat Robertson mated and spawned a child, Chancellor Sutler would be it. Throughout the movie, the regime’s motto is featured in various parts of London: “Strength through unity, unity through faith.” Religious superiority colors the characters and moves them to condone atrocious acts. The symbol of the British party is two crosses, one on top of the other.
The similarities to World War II are apparent, as are the links to present-day America and terrorism. In one scene, a lesbian couple are kidnapped and taken to “detention centers.” One of the women, Valerie, writes secret letters to a fellow prisoner. She describes her life and how it changed when the government came into power, and the torture she is subjected to as a detainee. She eventually dies and is buried, naked, in a mass grave.
It looked like a picture from my high school history book.
The main character, V, is also held captive in the detention center and his experiences fuels his “vendetta” against the government to the point where he relies on violence to undo the damage and free the citizens who capitulate to the restrictions. Now, I could write a completely separate entry on the matter of violence as a means to an end, but that’s not why I’m writing this.
I’m writing about the words. I’m writing about the words that I hear on a daily basis that I fear could be the speeches (phrase or emphasis) that we will eventually look back on and say: “Dear God, how could that happen?”
The words about other races.
The words about other religions.
The words about other political parties.
The words about other lifestyles.
The words that could evolve into the words the characters (the “fictional” characters) in the movie used to convince an entire nation that they were right. That they would bring the right kind of Change. In the past, words were against the Jews. Our new words are against the Arabs, the Muslims, and the homosexual community. We just use the same words against new people.
My grandfathers were Jewish. If there was one thing that haunted me the most when I became a Christian it was leaving my family. I don’t regret becoming a Christian, but I am ashamed of the suffering my grandfathers experienced because of my brothers and sisters in Christ.
If there were ever hate-filled words spoken against you in the name of Jesus, I am so sorry. Jesus taught never to judge or condemn, he taught to love everyone (even those who persecute) and he taught to be generous and humble. He taught that He was whom we should follow. A lot of people won’t listen to Jesus’ Words because of the words we have used. The words we are trying to use to ignite a revolution against those who are different.
If I had one chance to tell you something, if I had one opportunity to use Words and have them mean Something forever, it would be this:
I love you.
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