Who That

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     Last week, I was hoping you’d read this week’s letter and conclude I had lost my mind. Here goes…

 

That’s overused.

“What’s overused?”

No. That, like I said.

“What, like you said?”

I said that, not what.

“Yeah, like three times already… what are you talking about?!”

I’m talking about that – the word, t-h-a-t. That’s overused.

     With apologies to Abbott and Costello, I’d like to talk about that. Good writing coaches will insist students eliminate eighty-nine percent of that in their writing. Really good ones go ninety-plus. It’s a perfectly legitimate word, that, but worn out. And sadder than the overuse is the misuse.

     Horton didn’t hear a that. Horton heard a who. With his big old elephant ears he was able to hear what others couldn’t. With his big old elephant heart he was able to hold off destruction of the who’s long enough for the who’s to project a voice of their own.

     Conclusion: John has lost his mind. (I’m even referring to myself in the third-person… ha-ha-ha!)

     Care to go bonkers with me? Come on, try just a little bit. If fictional Horton was able to save the fictional who’s, imagine how much who-saving we might be a part of – we who are living, praying, boots-on-the-ground daughters and sons of God Most High. Who’s waiting for us to lose our minds? Who’s waiting for us to engage the mind of Christ in us? I’m only asking you to go bonkers with me because I’m going bonkers with Jesus. Watch this:

     Then (Jesus) went home, and the crowd gathered again, so that they could not even eat. And when his family heard it, they went out to seize him, for they were saying, “He is out of his mind” (Mark 3:20-21).  

     Was Jesus’ family correct in their assessment of his mental state? Of course not. But as he honored the image of God in people by putting their needs ahead of his own, he surely gave the impression of being more than a little crazy. What he was doing didn’t compute, didn’t add up to advantage for himself. So what? He was out of his mind only in the sense of – being all God and all man all at the same – making his man-mind subservient to his God-mind. We won’t match the quality of Jesus’ example, but we can’t give up the pursuit. In our time there’s more dishonor for the imago Dei than ever before. I can’t imagine God is pleased. I do imagine he would be pleased to see his people reverse the trend.

     Last week I promised insanely simple examples of honoring the image of God in people. For the sake of simplicity (if not insanity), I’ll keep it to one for this week. No doubt, you’ve heard someone say something like, “There were twelve people that came to the party.” No, that didn’t happen. Who’s happened. There were twelve people – living, eternal souls, saved or unsaved (do you know which?) – who came to the party. Subtle, no? If you missed the who/that exchange, you just made my point for me. See if you can catch it with a second reading.

     Years ago I read about a family in which pronouns were not allowed. No, this was long before the current fashion of cherry-picking and customizing pronouns for oneself. This was simply a parent-led initiative to prevent the objectifying, classifying, and dehumanizing of people within their home. Pronouns are so impersonal. The tactic was especially helpful in conflict resolution. Pronouns are so third-person. Proper names brought the parties into second-person speech together – you and I – and right into what Jesus said works: “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother” (Matthew 18:15).  Joey got into your stuff? Go talk to Joey first. If the case gets kicked up to a higher court, be advised: you won’t get to refer to Joey as the defendant, or him, and certainly not that.

      In writing this letter, I’ve had a hard time meeting the eighty-nine percent rejection rate of that – I’m not a great student of even the best writing coaches. In speech, it’s even harder, as maybe you’ve noticed. That is a crutch, a one-syllable search for a period to put on an unfinished thought, a four-letter comma looking for a better idea. On the other hand, that does a good job of bringing emphasis: that’s what I like! In any case, as an enumerator of people, I hope it gets fired.  

     I’m not expecting we’ll get a high-voltage shock whenever we say that where a who belongs. But some kind of Holy Spirit buzz would be mighty handy – a subtle reminder to recognize people as eternal, the crown jewel above creation, made in God’s own image. And maybe we’ve been bumping up against the broad side of the image-of-God issue for too long – an insanely simple approach could prove effective, and refreshing. As one of my long-ago bosses used to ask: “How do we eat an elephant, John?” The only acceptable response: “One bite at a time, Bob.”

     Uh-oh – sorry, Horton!

 

Grace and Peace (and elephant ears for who’s),

 

John