Wink, wink, nudge, nudge
Those of us who maintain cross-gender friendships know how
difficult it is to avoid rumors. Imagine how difficult it must have been in Jesus’ time, especially as Jesus became a bit of a celebrity. Anyone associated with him was surely subjected to the
first-century equivalent of paparazzi.

Sex sells. Surely, by the third century, it became more interesting to mention not only that Jesus’ apostles included women, but that some of them were women of questionable character. Perhaps it was an easy way to illustrate Jesus’ radical acceptance. But in the long run, the rumor mill has not served us well. It has deprived us of the example of a woman whom we should respect for her ministry to Jesus and his apostles.

Nor do we serve our sisters and brothers in faith when we spread rumors or gossip about each other — or harbor judgment in our hearts against our fellow believers. During worship, at the time of silence for self-reflection, how many of us enumerate those things which separate us from God but and then reflexively add the postscript “Well, at least I’m not as bad off as so-and-so”?

One of my favorite interpretations of the commandment “You shall not kill” is one that expands the law to not only prohibit taking life but to prohibit all the little “murders” we commit each day. Whether we mutter under our breath about a co-worker’s visible panty line or table manners, or question how an average student might have convinced her teacher to give her an above-average grade, or speculate about a friend’s relationship with her spouse, or try to guess the amount so-and-so spent on those new shoes (or sofa, or SUV), we injure their reputations. We don’t physically “kill” them, but we do kill their character.

We often form alliances woven of petty information against those
who live and act differently than we do, because they live and act differently than we do. Because they make choices in ways that we would not. Because their priorities about having a family, saving and spending, and using their time are different than ours. Every difference becomes a potential point of criticism. Everything they do becomes evidence that we use to support our prevailing opinion of them.

Gossip sells
It’s difficult not to gossip. We read magazines devoted to rumors about celebrities. We get excited about rumors of a favorable trade for our sports teams, or about a good review of this summer’s popcorn flick we’re dying to see.

For me, it’s hard to avoid sharing news about my friends. I assume that because I love them and have great concern for what happens in their lives, others will, too. Occasionally, I have to bite my tongue from telling even good news, or giving away too many details. Certain friends have taught me that some areas in my life that I would consider an “open book” are topics they’re uncomfortable discussing or having discussed. I’m usually quite surprised to learn that someone is reluctant to share information about something in his or her life, because knowing about it makes absolutely no difference to me.

It’s hard to temper our enthusiasm about being in-the-know when it comes to information about our friends, fellow students, and colleagues. We live in what is called the “information age.” Having moved from the industrial era, to the service-based economy, we are now in an economic model that runs on popular knowledge and the technology that distributes it. We’re taught that in order to succeed we need to know how to collect and disseminate information efficiently. We need to be good storytellers.

Good storytellers know their characters inside-out. The stories we read over and over again are the ones that feature many-layered characters. We project ourselves into those characters with whom we sympathize, and sometimes, those with whom we don’t.

The good writers are the ones that present not only the characters’ actions, but their motivations. We don’t simply know that the antagonist hates the protagonist, but we know why. We know that Job’s sufferings were all the more inexplicable because he had led a good and faithful life. We know that Judas betrayed Jesus partly for a payoff. We know that Mary Magdalene was much, much more than our culture’s flawed memory would have us believe.

If only we could apply the same understanding to our friends, fellow students, and colleagues.

Amber Leberman is web manager & associate art director for
The Lutheran magazine.
 
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