“The Read” is one of my favorite podcasts. I tune in every Thursday to hear Kid Fury and Krissle tell me what’s going on in Black America and to find out who the hosts are going to curse out this week. (This is not a churchy podcast, so if you are easily offended, I suggest you pick another show.) The show is rife with one-liners, and one of my favorites is “Words mean things.”
As a writer, I have a deep appreciation for words and their meanings. In fact, another podcast I listen to is focused purely on the origin stories of words in the English language. “The Allusionist” is nerd nirvana for people like me.
During Bible study last night, the teacher asked us to define the gospel for ourselves. The room fell silent. Some of us looked down at the floor. Some of us looked up the definition on our phones. Some of us looked around the room waiting for others to be the first to speak. I was staring at a piece of paper, on which I had already written my definition and how it relates to my life.
The teacher went on to explain that there was no wrong answer. There is a dictionary definition, of course. Each of us has the right, the responsibility, even, to define what the gospel means to us.
I chose not to share my definition. I listened as a couple of others defined the gospel for themselves. It was enlightening to hear what they had to say. Words do mean things, even if they mean slightly different things to each of us.
So today, dear friend, choose your words wisely.