Words From The Warden

For the past three weeks, Kim and I have spent nearly every moment together, both awake and asleep. While I genuinely value our time, there are moments when I am unsettled by the tone of our conversations. I recognize that I can speak harshly, especially when Kim gives me advice about towing our 14,000-pound fifth wheel. At times, I may snap back over what I perceive as a slight, even when it’s about something minor. Fortunately, we quickly move past these exchanges because we love each other. However, witnessing the broader state of conversations in our society today deeply alarms me.

It is troubling to see protesters shouting phrases like, “F**k ICE!” or to observe the blatant fabrication of facts by elected officials and their media teams. I have heard pastors and religious leaders declare that certain people are not worthy of love. There is an instance of a factory worker shouting anemic accusations toward the President, and the President himself responding with profanity and obscene gestures. These are just a few examples; there are far too many to list in this brief newsletter. I am truly sickened by the way we communicate with one another.

Having officiated football for 39 seasons and basketball for over 20 years, I learned early on that emotional conversations tend to be loud, fast, and filled with hurtful words. It was not uncommon for a coach to use an expletive as when trying to make a point. Rarely were such remarks intended to be personal attacks or deliberately hurtful, yet they still managed to provoke a reaction in me. Even though the comments were not meant to cause harm, I often found myself feeling ticked off or defensive as a result. Across hundreds of games, I disqualified only one basketball player for an egregious intentional foul, one high school football coach for using a racial slur, and one high school basketball coach for spitting gum in my face. In my early years, when a coach yelled or challenged me, I would get irritated and often responded by arguing or shouting back. Over time, I realized that this approach did not help resolve conflicts.

I developed a different strategy: when a coach raised their voice, I would lower mine. The louder and more animated they became, the more slowly and quietly I would speak. Instead of defending my position, I would ask what they saw or inquire about what my officiating team could do to help. Some might call this approach unusual, but I discovered that listening and acknowledging their point of view often calmed the coach down. If necessary, I could reassess the situation from a different perspective. Sometimes, I would simply say, “That’s not how I saw it, but if it happened the way you think it did, then I blew it.” Through these experiences, I learned that respect fosters respect.

The Bible offers clear instruction on how we should communicate with one another. I often wish I had paid closer attention in Sunday school, as some lessons I learned the hard way could have been avoided. Scripture teaches that speech is powerful and should be used wisely—to build others up rather than tear them down. We are called to be quick to listen and slow to speak, guarding our tongues from corrupt talk (James 1:19; Proverbs 18:13). Our words can bring life or death, and wisdom is found in thoughtful, gracious, and truthful communication (Proverbs 15:1).

Instead of Conservatives slurring Liberals, news agencies embellishing reports, Liberals denouncing Conservatives, elected officials resorting to vulgar language, or pastors claiming that some are unworthy of God’s love, we could all benefit from talking less and listening more. By speaking the truth gently and refraining from outshouting each other with lies and half-truths, we might return to seeing everyone as a child of God.
If we embrace biblical principles—intentional, godly communication over hateful chatter, and encourage BELIEVERS to use their words as tools for good, rooted in wisdom and love, and to be mindful of what they say and when to remain silent—we can begin to heal and love each other once again.

Peace,
Henry Zaborniak, Senior Warden