Words of Redemption

I think that the greatest travesty leveled upon the children of earth is the teaching of the following:

Sticks and stones may break my bones,
but words will never hurt me.

The second greatest travesty is the teaching of this little ditty, which is often used as a response to the first:

I’m rubber and you’re glue,
and whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you.

Do you see it? Maybe not, but it’s there underneath the catchy and sing-song way in which these words are delivered in the schoolyard. There is a lie in those phrases. An outright one.

The lie is this: Your words have no affect on me. In essence, the lie is that words have no power. No meaning.¹

But as adults, we all know the truth. Each of us, regardless of what we do or don’t believe about Life, the Universe and Everything, knows that words are powerful. That words have meaning.

Life has taught us as much. And most of us probably know from experience that singing the words above to another on the playground (or even in the workplace if, say, you work for Mattel) never does seem to diminish the hurt we feel over what was said. We know that words can hurt, even if we say they don’t.

But we also know that words can heal, because we’ve experienced that as well. We’ve experienced the power that lies in the encouraging words of a parent, sibling, spouse, friend, or even a stranger. We’ve experienced the power of words in faith, in belief and in life.

Thus, we all know that words are meaningful, and that they can be used for good or for ill. Words can be used to cut down an argument, or to cut down an individual. They can be used to persuade others to join a noble cause, or to recruit for an unfortunate one. Words can be used to clarify, or they can be used to confuse. They can be used to love, or they can be used to hate. Words can be used to bridge our differences of opinion, faith or religion, or they can be used to paint a false picture of those who don’t share our politics, our beliefs or our values.

And in each and every case, there is a choice, not just for the sender, but the receiver as well. I should admit that I don’t really feel that teaching a child “sticks and stones” is a bad parenting decision, because the intent is to teach children to choose healing words over those that hurt. The problem is that the message often gets lost with an 8-year old who doesn’t understand why her friend would make fun of her hair today when she said she liked it yesterday.

It’s confusing to a child that words can hurt so much. It’s often still confusing to me. But I, and the child, still have a choice. A choice in what to do with what we’ve been told, and a choice in how we respond. And as for me, I choose words that heal. Words that redeem.

I chose the phrase “Words of Redemption” as the title of my blog because it is a title that describes my own journey. I believe that God has called me to write. I also believe that living out ones calling is a journey of redemption, mostly because it often seems that the world stands against us in our pursuit of a calling. Thus, to pursue a calling is to be redeemed. My calling is words. Words that result in my redemption. Hopefully, words which can be used to offer redemption to others. Not only do I wish to hear words that redeem, but I wish to speak them as well.

So let us acknowledge the awesome power of words. Let us recognize that they can be used for good or for ill. And let us teach ourselves, and our children, a new song. Maybe this one:

By cuts and barbs, I’ll show some scars,
but words will always heal me.

- B

While writing this, I was listening to “I Dare You to Move” by Switchfoot and “Bullet Proof … I Wish I Was” by Radiohead

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1. you may think I’m reaching here, and maybe I am. Thankfully for both of us, this is neither a policy speech nor a philosophy paper. It’s just a blog. [↩]

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