HELLO!

How loud is your voice? My late mother used to tell me I was born with a megaphone in my throat. For most of my childhood, teen years, and early adulthood, I remember being told “keep your voice down” or less pastorally, “shut up”. The only thing I remember from all the French classes I took in elementary and junior high school was “ferme ta bouche” (you can look that up). I have no idea where this affliction came from, none of my brothers, nor my parents, nor my grandparents, were loud. I remember feeling slightly cursed, as teachers, parents, classmates, teammates among the many sports I played, would admonish me to “keep it down”. Even at a funeral I helped plan, at the previous church I served, a man who was an assistant coach of my minor league baseball team, would tell my colleagues, “Kevin was our catcher, he would offer running commentary from behind the plate, throughout the game. The umpire and the hitter, sometimes even the pitcher, would need to tell him to shut up.” My colleagues appreciated knowing this.

NOW this affliction is a virtue. People roll their eyes when they tell me, “That was a good sermon” and I respond, “you mean you heard me”. But they are unaware of how many people’s filters are influenced by volume. Case in point, yesterday. In the afternoon I attended a navigator’s meeting in the downtown Dartmouth library. 25 of us gathered around a table, to share our common challenges and ask each other for support. As we made introductions, the refrain for 24 participants was “could you please speak up.” Each person was slightly annoyed, “I think I am speaking plenty loud”. But they weren’t, most people assume they speak louder than they do. When my time came, I kept it short and turned to my seatmate. Barry looked around the table and said, “I think Kevin should introduce all of us.” There was widespread laughter.

At the Monday evening practice, for our April dinner theatre, June sat in the audience, as the actor shared their lines. June reminded us to use our “big voices”. I could tell some of our cast felt they were already loud enough. When my time came, I could see June smiling. I heard a few people say, “you need to speak like Kevin.” What they didn’t say, which would be true, was “but don’t sing like him”. Sadly, the loud voice did not come with melody or tone. But when it comes to amateur/church theatre, being heard is more than half the battle. Being loud is now a virtue. I still get calls from long-term care facilitates, asking me to return and lead services. I am the only clergy person the residents can hear.

Finally, the affliction has turned into a virtue. I am grateful. Peace, Kevin

PS Tuesday would have been my mother’s 87^th birthday. My brothers sent me this photo. That year our mother made us Royal Order of the Water Buffaloes (see The Flintstones) hats for Christmas. A wonderful memory…