A Frustrating Speaking Experience

Don't worry, I'm back. I haven't drowned in the sea. I went to Hawaii and spent as little time as possible on my computer. One day soon I may write about the Dalai Lama, but it won't be tonight. I'm too tired.

Still jet-lagged, I woke up early this morning and drove 2.5 hours to speak at an academy about New Light (a home for the children of sex workers in India), and about how the Gospel compels Christians to engage in issues of social justice. It was an extremely disheartening experience. First, I spent $70 to get there and back in my family's gas-guzzeling behemoth vehicle. Then when I got there, I found that the person who'd invited me had been called away on an emergency. (I should add that it was a very valid emergency.) A student worker greeted me timidly on his behalf, took my DVD, and disappeared to have it set up. After getting lost, I found the gathering myself and forged my way into a room full of rowdy students who looked like they would rather be anywhere else besides a chapel program. A smily-looking lady shook my hand and then introduced me to the students, telling them (with evident dis-ease) that I would be sharing some "perhaps uncomfortable" things about my "work" in India. I was highly amused. I don't think she was entirely pleased with my presence.

When I got up to begin I was immediately intimidated. (I am extremely crowd sensitive.) During preaching assignments at a certain county church near WWU, I used to stutter all over my sermons because of a bald man who always snored in the middle left-hand pew. But despite snickering and whispering and paper-ball throwing (that was probably only in my imagination), I did a decent job at the academy. I was enthusiastic and clear of speach, and what I had to say was (I thought) extremely relevant. But most of my audience was not engaged. I tried hard to reach them, even bursting out of my notes from time to time (a nearly unheard of event for Gulliver). It was hopeless. But for a very few, they would not be drawn in.

I suppose in the end I can't really blame the students. I am a much more effective "high church" preacher, however much I dream of spouting off the cuff, firey, and entertaining sermons. I never raise my voice or wave my arms. I wouldn't dream of budging from the podium. I tend to read my manuscripts, which are carefully crafted and technical (often mediocre) theological expositions. For better or for worse, this stuff tends to go over well in preaching class and in traditional church settings, but it didn't work with the kids. They weren't interested in my "brilliant" manifesto for a Christian spirituality that generates acts of compassion. It was perhaps too esoteric.

The smily lady came and sat nearby while the DVD played, so I leaned over and asked her how much time I had left to wrap things up. She said I had about 10 minutes, but advised me to keep it shorter. "This is heavy stuff for these kids," she said (sounding slightly offended). Yes, child prostitution is heavy for kids. Much too heavy. That's exactly why we must talk about it.

I'm afraid I really let her words crush my spirit. I ended my presentation by challenging the students to cultivate a holistic spirituality that engages mind, body, and soul. I told them that the Kingdom of God "out there" is really "here, now," that it has burst forth in our midst, and that disciples of Christ must therefore be voices of justice and peace. Then do you know what happened? The whole mob jumped and ran for the door. It was lunch time.

I had just told them about starving babies, and they were still concerned about lunch! Perhaps it was a painful rebuke of my own appetite, or perhaps it was righteous (or self-righteous) indignation. But whatever the case, it made me feel very sad.

Finding nothing to do in the empty chapel after everyone left, I simply shrugged, went to the car, and drove home. I felt like I had waisted both my time and my money, and I felt frustrated with myself and with what I judged to be superficiality on the part of the students. I don't know why God keeps putting teenagers in my life-- they are absolutely infuriating. God only knows why I like them and why they like me (and they do, even when they don't get my speaking. Its really weird.)

Okay, I must go to sleep now. I feel sick with sleepiness. This entry was obviously not meant to provoke any profound thoughts, but only to appease those friends who have been prodding me for a blog update.

Good night.