To the Young Guys: Speak to Be Heard

Read Part 1.

Let me talk to all you younger guys out there. I’m on your side—I agree that younger leaders have something to contribute and should be heard. I don’t think that they should have to wait until they’re forty to get people to listen to them.

But the fact of the matter is that younger voices are more easily dismissed. Even if you have great ideas, it’s going to be harder for you to get people to hear them. Please don’t let yourself get impatient. There are ways that you can help yourself. I’d like to list a few of them here.

You want people to listen to you? One of the best things that you can do is to finish school. You see, nearly everybody has an opinion about nearly everything. Most expressions of opinion are ill-informed, and quite often they turn out to be nothing more than emotional burps. So people filter out most of the noise or static and focus on the opinions that are likely to mean something. One of the filters is education: a poorly educated person is more likely to have poorly formed opinions, while a better educated person is likely to have more coherent ones.

While you are in college you are still learning how to think. In fact, you are still learning what to think about. Ceteris paribus, a collegian can expect to have people listen to him in dorm-room conversations and occasionally in classroom exchanges, but not usually much beyond that.

What’s the minimal educational requirement to command a hearing in the real world of Christian leadership? Broadly speaking, most Christian leaders have to earn a Master of Divinity degree before many people are interested in what they have to say. The reason is simple: in order to express opinions about Christianity, you ought to have a mastery of the Christian faith. That mastery is rarely gained at the baccalaureate level, or even at the level of the M.A. To get the necessary command of languages, exegesis, and theology, you need the tools that come with the M.Div. or its equivalent. Frankly, the more education you get, the more likely that people are going to listen to you.

As a sub-topic under education, let me add this: no one will listen to you if you can’t write good English. I’m thinking of one younger leader right now who actually has some decent ideas. When he writes them down, however, his remarks are riddled with misspellings and fractured syntax. Very often he substitutes homonyms for the terms he really wants, and the results can be extraordinarily droll. Unfortunately, even his better ideas are easily dismissed by literate people.

If you want to be heard, get a real education. The more you get, the better the hearing you’ll likely gain. Knowledge is power.

You want people to listen to you? Then build something. Get your nose bloody in the real work of ministry and leadership. Show that your ideas can actually make a difference in the world.

It’s easy to carp about how somebody else is doing something. When you actually try to do it yourself, however, you find out how difficult it really is. You discover what the challenges are. You learn what works and what doesn’t.

Real leaders are people who have failed. They have tried things that have not worked, they have made mistakes (sometimes big ones), and they have been beaten up. They have had to pick themselves up, dust themselves off, and get back into the game.

How you respond to failure and defeat is a tremendous revelation of your character. It shows what you’re made of. A right response lends moral weight to your words. You don’t have to be a roaring success in order to gain the right to a hearing, but you do have to show that you possess discipline, perseverance, and humility. You have to show that you know how to apologize, how to recover from humiliation, and how to mend broken fences.

I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but you generally can’t do these things in a position of secondary leadership. Valuable as youth pastors and assistant pastors are, for example, their position is not one of final responsibility or authority. While their position is a very high position (a youth pastor is still a pastor), it is one that functions under the authority of a senior pastor, and he is the person who bears final responsibility. You will generally earn far more right to be heard if you are the pastor of a little flock of fifty than if you are an assistant pastor in a church of fifteen hundred.

One more thing. If you want to be heard, then show a little respect. This aspect will be challenging sometimes because you will be keenly aware of the failings of your older peers. You will find it especially challenging when your elders do not show you the respect that you really deserve (and that will happen, I promise). If you want the older guys to listen to you, however, you’re going to have to get over it (yes, I actually said that) and speak to them respectfully.

That doesn’t mean that you have to back away from a good argument—far from it! When you pull your punches, you are not showing respect. The problem is in how you punch. When you’re sticking to facts and sound reasons, then punch as hard as you like. When you’re lapsing into rhetorical flourishes, then it’s time to moderate yourself. For example, sarcasm can sometimes be a useful tool when it is rightly employed, and it is not always unbiblical or unchristian. But it is a dangerous tool; it is easily turned into wrong uses, and you simply cannot afford the risk of looking like a smart-alec kid. Not if you want to be heard.

All of these recommendations are especially important when you enter the world of Internet discussion. It’s easy to make the mistake of thinking that you are only talking to yourself and to your friends. It’s easy to shoot off your mouth and to say things that are, well, regrettable. Take it from me—I’m an expert! If you have no track record behind you, and if you don’t have a public ministry to provide a context for an off-the-cuff remark, then you may be dooming yourself to marginalization. Young guys especially have to be careful about what they say and how they say it.

Guys, I want you to be heard (at least, when you have something to say). But you’re going to have to work at it. Be careful out there. I’m pulling for you. We’re all in this together.

When We Cannot Sleep

George Wither (1588-1667)

What ails my heart, that in my breast

It thus unquiet lies;

And that it now of needful rest

Deprives my tired eyes?

Let not vain hopes, griefs, doubts, or fears,

Distemper so my mind;

But cast on God thy thoughtful cares,

And comfort thou shalt find.

In vain that soul attempteth ought,

And spends her thoughts in vain,

Who by or in herself hath sought

Desired peace to gain.

On thee, O Lord, on thee therefore,

My musings now I place;

Thy free remission I implore,

And thy refreshing grace.

Forgive thou me, that when my mind

Oppressed begun to be,

I sought elsewhere my peace to find,

Before I came to thee.

And, gracious God, vouche to grant,

Unworthy though I am,

The needful rest which now I want,

That I may praise thy name.

This essay is by Dr. Kevin T. Bauder, president of Central Baptist Theological Seminary (Plymouth, MN). Not every professor, student, or alumnus of Central Seminary necessarily agrees with every opinion that it expresses.