When to yell, when to whisper
We live in what one writer recently called a "time of outrage."
By that, he meant that there is no shortage of outrage in our culture, and every week there seems to be another incident or change that sparks controversy. With that, controversy seems to come not just from expressions of discontent or civil disagreements, but fiery outrage from all "sides" of an issue.
He suggests that when changes are met with bouts of outrage, the impact can be short-term. The outrage is simply replaced by the next "outrageous" thing or event.
He probably has a good point to some degree. I believe, though, that some things are worth getting outraged about. Jesus, for instance, had moments where he expressed anger and even cleared people from a part of the Jewish Temple where actions were taking place that excluded "outsiders" from full participation (see the "clearing of the Temple" in Luke 19:45-47, for instance).
There are times in the Old Testament when, mostly through the Prophets of the day, God expresses anger and outrage over the way people who are supposed to be loyal to God begin treating others in unfair and even violent ways.
It seems there is a pattern here: When someone is mistreated, especially those who are already oppressed or outnumbered, anger and even outrage may be warranted. Even then, however, the initial outrage can be followed by (as in the cases I just mentioned) a clear, solution-based correction.
Otherwise, even when outrage is warranted, it can be seen as simply blowing off steam instead of addressing the heart of important issues that can harm others.
Of course, there are some things that probably should be addressed in quieter tones. We should always speak up when we see or hear of injustice; however, calm disagreement can go a long way, especially when the matter does not involve an urgent response to situations that are potentially harmful to others.
My grandmother almost never yelled at me. The one time she did was when, as a small child, I was walking with her and my brother down the street, and I quickly let go of her hand and ran ahead of her on what was known to be a dangerous crosswalk.
She yelled, moved quickly to grab my hand and quickly reminded me never to do that again. On nearly every other occasion where she corrected me, it didn't begin with that kind of urgent concern, because the other situations were not urgent: there was no immediate danger to myself or to others.
Maybe, in the face of so many expressions of outrage in our culture, we can do a little filtering. We can prioritize which concerns are worth our immediate words of correction and which merit a more subtle corrective tone.
We can do a better job of discerning when we should yell and when we should take a softer tone. If we take this seriously, perhaps we will spark greater conversation over smaller issues and put most of our energy into those issues that will have an immediate impact on the poor, the voiceless and the hurting.
