words

I've been working with words, really, most of the day.

Sometimes it's been spoken words, the words of conversation, I've been working with. But mainly with the written word, those words which have capacity for so much more than just the here and now.

I've been thinking a bit about words today. Impressed by the way that the Lord from the outset insists we treat all words with reverence and care. At least, that's how I read what he said on those tablets of stone.

Words are the building blocks whereby community is built. The cells of blood which, pumped each day through all the farthest reaches of the body of society's life, ensure there is a warmth and life and beauty to it all.

They need to be respected, words. Treated and handled with care. Used in a way that keeps them in prime condition.

Some of the day it's been very practical stuff, my use of words. The secretary here's been away today, so some of the time I've been dealing with tasks, and engaging with people, that normally she'd have addressed on her own.

Enquiries about the halls we have, bookings coming in. Forms to be filled, advice on the use of the halls, discussion with some in regard to the booking they've long since made. Sorting out with others all the details of a booking maybe 9 months hence, as if it was tomorrow there was such a pressing urgency it seemed.

It's never dull! And I'm never left twiddling my thumbs, at a loss over what I might do!

But it's been words, as I say, I've been working with most of the day.

In these routine conversations - mostly on the phone - I was struck again about the impact that the words we use can have. And the way we use the words we use. If that's not me being confused!

The careful use of a person's name. Remembered, and used in a context where greetings and blessing can both in their ways be employed. Just in the course of normal conversation.

Politeness and courtesy, tone of voice. They all are bound up with this working with words. When we choose and use our every word with the care and respect God commends, society itself works well.

At least, that's what I take him to mean. When he set down his words on the tablets of stone.

I popped round to the school again, of course, it being a Thursday today. There wasn't the time for a coffee, but there's always the time for a chat!

I couldn't find the staff at first. They've moved things round within the school and found themselves a new and larger staff-room. Spacious and bright with comfortable chairs - and more than enough to go round.

What a massive difference our environment can make! The space, the light, the seating, all alike - they made the place relaxing in themselves.

I think our words are like that. They create 'environment' and thus themselves can put us all at ease and help us all relax and give to us a restfulness of spirit and a hopefulness of heart.

Our words can create a sort of 'space' or 'spaciousness' within the human spirit. Our words can be as 'light', subtly bringing brightness on days that maybe otherwise are dark and bleak and dreich. Our words can strangely generate that 'comfort' which enables those we speak with to relax and feel refreshed.

Spoken words. Amazing things when chosen and used with care.

So even ten short minutes in a busy teachers' break can see the words of conversation being a part of that environment which turns a brief and fleeting break into real rest.

But alongside all of that, the spoken words, and woven through them all, there's been as well a large amount of time I've spent on working with the written word.

Preparing the message, a tribute to George, for the service we'll hold tomorrow.

A tribute to George? Well, only in part, I suppose. He was himself such a modest, unassuming man, he would not have wished a thing like that at all.

So it's more, I think, a portrait of the man that I've been painting with my words.

Not a sketch, with words that are hastily thrown across the page.

But a portrait, where each and every word, and the way those words are all combined together, is the product of a careful, well-considered choice.

Like an artist, with that eye he has for just the perfect colour that he's looking for, mixing paints aross his pallette and, with gentle, expert brush-strokes, painting all the smallest details on the canvas that he has.

It's working with words. And it takes time. Choosing and using every word that's involved with the care and respect God insists they must always receive.

But as well as the message tomorrow requires, I've been working with words in a paper regarding The Lot. Seeking the words to convey what the whole thing's about. The vision.

It's one thing to know what the vision is. But it needs to be shared as well.

What we have, by the grace of God, begun to see already in the hidden, mostly future, realm of God's eternal purposes, must now be given shape and form for all to clearly see.

Words are the way that happens. Words are the bridge between those worlds - the world of God's future tense and the world of the here and now.

Again it takes time. But to build such a bridge brings potential for change.

And the 'worship' involved (that's what the work is) in the choice and the use of the words is an altar on which, as Elijah the prophet once proved, the fire of the Lord, the Spirit of God, will fall.

To which I say, as another day of working with such words concludes - to which I say 'Amen'!