Time to declutter.

It has been just over 10 years since the passing of William Zinsser.  “Who was William Zinsser?” you may ask - and it’s a good question.  I wouldn’t have known about him except for a friend recommending I read one of his books.

Zinsser was a writer, professor, and columnist for the New York Herald Tribune.  In 1988 he wrote a book about baseball - one of his lifelong passions.  He was especially intrigued by spring training (in fact, that is the title of his book - “Spring Training”).  He loved how the game was simplified when played in the smaller, preparatory environment.  There were no jumbo HD TVs, the younger players were hungry to make an impression, and it was played outside, on grass.  In his words, there was a special kind of purity to the game.

He later went on to write another book called, “On Writing Well.”  After a career in wordsmithing, he shares delightful and engaging insights for writing well, marked with humorous examples.  After a while, you begin to think, “Do I talk like that?  Do I write like that?”  He points out the difference between well-crafted and well-clichéd communication, the latter to be avoided.  

The single biggest error we make in communicating with each other - oral or written - is clutter.  In an effort to be brilliant in our communication, we make the simple thing a complicated thing.  We use clichés that flow easily but usually are void of significance.  He takes jokingly points out that “firing off notes or memos” is done with such ferocity and frequency, it surely requires a special kind of weapon.  He has never seen it but is quite assured it exists because the “firing off” happens with such regularity.  Why not simply say, “I wrote?”  If you enjoy playing with words, you will be delighted by this book.

I’ve read his book several times.  Each time, I fire off a note to self . . . much of what Zinsser says about writing well also applies to living well, by faith.  

How often do we use well-worn phrases and clichés when we are praying?  Or, refer to key truths using the language we’ve heard all our lives but without having a clear understanding of what it means?  Part of what made Jesus so appealing was His ability to speak simply and clearly.  Even complex ideas were presented in fresh, unique ways.

“You must be born again,” “I will give you living water,” and “I am the great shepherd” triggered easily understood images.  None of them were simple.  This allowed Jesus to go on to explain the significance of these truths in fresh and understandable ways.  It is no wonder Matthew remarked, “He teaches as one who has authority . . .” (Matt. 7:29).  Unfortunately, the freshness of Jesus’ words has been lost.  Speaking of being “born again,” “living water,” and “great shepherds” means virtually nothing to someone who has no church background and very little to those who do.  Worse, they usually evoke woefully misunderstood caricatures of the content and nature of Christian faith.

Add to this list, “in Jesus’ name,” “if it be Your will,” or, “let go and let God” along with a multitude of others.  Each of these does represent a significant theological truth - but do we understand what it is?  Even if we do, is its meaning and significance lost in the superficial gloss caused by the frequency with which we fire off these clichés?  I believe so.

How do we resolve this?  Here are two suggestions.  First, dial up the sensitivity of your cliché-o-meter.  In other words, let’s sensitize ourselves to this kind of christianese and commit to removing it.  Let’s “declutter” our faith language.  Maybe we should replace what some call a “Swear Jar” with a “Cliché Jar?”

Second, when we do hear ourselves - or someone else - using of of these well-worn phrases of religiosity, we fire off a note to self to do a personal study on the background and meaning of said cliché.  What a great opportunity to enrich our understanding of the amazing grace which God has extended to us!

We can rediscover the purity, the delightful and engaging nature of faith, of God’s love for us, of the joy of growing in faith together as we de-clutter our language.  There is a fresh dynamic to life and faith just waiting to be explored below the crusty surface of cliché.  May I challenge you to dig in and be renewed by going below the surface?  When you do, fire off an email to let me know the joys you have discovered.