Here Am I: Advice to the Speakers of Stoa

            So far, I have only used this blog to publish general thoughts on philosophy—but today, I have a specific message to give to a specific group of people. Today I am speaking to my fellow speakers and debaters who compete in Stoa, a national Christian homeschool speech & debate league. I hope to offer you some words of encouragement, and perhaps some little wisdom which I have gleaned over my years of competition.

            That is not to say that no one else will be able to benefit from these thoughts. This is a heartfelt message to anyone who competes, who buries himself in his drive for success, who searches for worth in his accomplishments.

            Speech & debate has been a huge part of my life for the last three years. My sophomore year is when I first grew obsessed with the interpretive speeches, limited preparation, platforms, wild cards, and debate events which make up the world of forensics. Breaking at tournaments gave me an adrenaline rush I had never felt before, and have never felt since. And like so many others, I became overtaken with the desire to win. As a naturally competitive person with relentless drive, I competed in every possible event, seeking to win every possible trophy. The standards I set for myself were brutal, and the fallout more so when I failed to meet those standards.

            But at my last tournament, the National Invitational Tournament of Champions, I had a strange sort of epiphany during the awards ceremony. Time after time, the competitors lined up beside the stage. And time after time, the quarterfinalists were called up. Then the semifinalists. Then the finalists. Then the final three were left onstage—the third place winner was called up—the last two gasped and hugged one another—and then the runner-up was announced. The champion covered his mouth with his hands. Or more dramatically fell to his knees. Or something of that nature.

            This happened every single time. I was struck with the realization that the same thing would happen next year, for each one of these events. And it would happen the next year, and the next, and the next. The NITOC champions of this year would fade into oblivion.

            And what of the other seven finalists? The difference between first, second, third, and even fourth place, I knew, was miniscule. In a different room, or with a different panel of judges, or even on a different day, the results very well might have been entirely different. The person in eighth place could very well have been first.

            This year I am coaching in my club, for the first time without the added responsibility of competing. For the first time, I am seeing the intensity of forensic competition from the outside. And I have a few words of wisdom for those of you who are still in it.

            #1. Do not let judges assign your worth as a competitor. I know how it feels to compete. I know what it is like to put all your stock into the opinion of a few judges sitting in a room. But you must believe me that your skill and talent as a competitor are not always defined by your final placing.

I have known wonderful speakers and debaters who have not broken or qualified to Nationals. Judges are people, real people, with their own opinions, just like you. Every ballot is from God, and sometimes, you will lose not by any fault of your own, but just because someone else needed to win that day. You can be incredibly skilled and talented, and yet not break to finals.

This is not meant to be interpreted as permission to be arrogant. But if all your coaches and friends tell you in all honesty that you are talented, and the judges tell you otherwise, the fault is not always in your coaches and friends.

            #2. Do not let judges assign your worth as a person. On the other hand, there will also be times when you will lose, and you will deserve to lose. Sometimes we really do fail because we are not good enough.

But the difficult truth is that you don’t have to be good enough.

Speech & debate is like a microcosm of society. The intense nature of competition wakes up the drive to succeed within us, and forces us to realize that, deep in our hearts, we really do think that we are only worthy of life if we accomplish great things. But when you have done all you can do, and your best was not good enough, I pray that you will turn to the One who does not expect you to be good, and who instead makes you perfect.

Paradoxically, Christianity states that mankind is incapable of true goodness, but is capable of true perfection through the death and life of Jesus. Your identity is perfection in Jesus Christ, not a number on Speechranks. The beauty of Christianity is that even when you don’t break, even when you fail to communicate to the judges, even when you are not good at what you do, you remain absolutely perfect.

Learn to fail with joy, because failure is not the end. It is not even the beginning.

#3. Don’t sell your soul for a trophy.

Listen to me closely. This is important.

You are a uniquely gifted, individually formed, marvelous individual who has deep passions and beautiful thoughts. You have something worthwhile to say, and that is really why you are here—because your words matter.

Trophies are wonderful, because trophies inspire us to discover new and more effective ways of delivering our message. But the moment that a trophy inspires you to abandon your message in order to please judges, it has become a distraction from what really matters.

You should always take advice, listen to the wisdom of others, and try to do better. But there are times when a judge or a coach or a friend will give you advice that you should not follow, even if that advice would allow you to win. If you believe that Apologetics ought to speak to unbelievers, maybe you shouldn’t include more Bible verses. If you believe that interpretive speeches ought to be visually as well as narratively interesting, maybe you shouldn’t simplify your blocking.

You are an individual. You have beliefs. You have passions. And you have a God-given message to deliver. If certain advice would cause you to win, but it would also cause you to violate the message of your conscience, do not follow that advice. The judge’s word is not law. Consider every criticism you receive with wisdom and discernment, and if you believe it is wrong, discard it.

Even if it costs you a trophy or two.

A friend of mine once said that every speaker’s goal should not be to win NITOC, but instead to write and deliver the best speech there ever was. There is a great deal of truth in this statement. Rather than crafting a speech to win NITOC, craft a speech that is so well written, heartfelt, and important that it deserves to win NITOC. If you do this, every time you give that speech, you can rest in the knowledge that your speech matters, whether or not you win with it.

#4. View your achievements with humility. There were better speakers before you, and there will be better speakers after you. You are blessed for a few short years to hone your skills in one of the most exhilarating competitions known to man. Enjoy that competition, but don’t lose yourself in it.

When you win, remember that on a different day, at a different time, with different judges, someone else very well might have beaten you. Give God the glory for your accomplishments. After all, is it not silly to think highly of ourselves for winning a competition when the very breath with which we speak is not our own?

To conclude, I encourage you to find joy in the words you speak. Speak words of life, of truth, of love. Learn from your coaches. Win with humility. Lose with grace. Remember that your passions and abilities and thoughts all come from your Creator, and He will guide you through these precious years of your life.

Remember also that this will end. There is life after speech and debate—so much life. This is the training ground for the battlefield of the world which you must someday face (indeed, you have likely already begun to face it). Take this opportunity to learn all you can, while you can. In the words of Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton, “Do not throw away your shot!”

The prophet Isaiah once lamented, “I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty.” There is some disagreement over what Isaiah meant when he said he had “unclean lips,” but it is not impossible that he was referring to his own speech. The words of mankind are dirty and destructive, wicked and warlike. We are all of us people of unclean lips.

But praise God, for He has touched our lips and cleansed them. And now we need not feel fear in the presence of the Lord. He has taken your words of perverseness and replaced them with words of perfection.

Speak without fear, for you are loved.

And when you hear the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?”, you are free to speak the words of the prophet Isaiah:

“Here am I! Send me!”

How Can I Keep From Singing?: Why Lyrics Matter

      Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for a showcase of stunning art from the most popular songs of 2014 onward:

“Spread it like peanut butter jelly. Do it like I owe you some money.” —Galantis

“Do you recall? Not long ago? We would walk on the sidewalk.” —Major Lazer

“How deep is your love? Is it like the ocean?” —Calvin Harris

“We are the new Americana, high on legal marijuana.” —Halsey

“I can’t feel my face when I’m with you—but I love it.” —The Weeknd

“You used to call me on my cell phone.” —Drake

“I really really really really really like you.” —Carly Rae Jepsen

“Don’t wanna hear you lie tonight now that I’ve become who I really are.” —Ariana Grande

“When I go home I tend to close the door.” —Sam Smith

“Every day is brutal. Now we’re being watched by Google.” —Kasabian

Beautiful, right? Or…not. To be perfectly honest, if you were to choose a song randomly from the Top 40 on any given week for the past three years, the chances of that song containing quality lyrics is quite low. It is growing increasingly difficult to find songs with good lyrics for one simple reason—lyrics today are undervalued.

Now before I am assaulted by the legions of music aficionados, allow me to clarify my statement. I am not attempting to claim that music is not also undervalued; there is absolutely a noticeable lack of quality music in today’s culture. But as long as songs uphold the American Bandstand standard (that “it’s got a good beat and you can dance to it”), people generally do not care about the quality of lyrics.

This is a singular travesty, because the song is an art form which blends two separate artistica media together—music and poetry. To ignore one of these in favor of the other is to disregard an essential element.

A piece of music is meant on its own to produce a certain emotion. Think of this emotion as a category. Music without words can make you feel sorrowful, joyful, or fearful. It can even awaken more specific emotions, such as thoughtful wistfulness, murderous rage, or tender affection. But music alone can never express why you feel that emotion. You can never learn that you feel wistful over the memories of your long-lost brother, or that you feel angry over the heartless betrayal of your ex-wife, or that you feel affection for your newly born first child, merely from the music itself. The delicate nuances of the source, circumstances, and stories behind the emotion can be reached only through the addition of lyrics.

On the other hand, although lyrics alone (in other words, poetry) are excellent at communicating specific thoughts, they are clumsy and ineffective at communicating broad emotions with the agility and swiftness of melody and harmony. A song combines both these arts and creates something with both deep emotional power and specific rational power. In the words of E.Y. Harburg, “Words make you think. Music makes you feel. A song makes you feel a thought.”

When beautiful music is combined with beautiful lyrics, a song achieves its full purpose. The trouble is that society undervalues lyrics, and we are left with incredibly catchy melodies combined with incredibly inane lyrics. There are three major problems with the majority of lyrics found in modern songs.

Modern lyrics are often meaningless. Look at these lyrics from the fourth biggest song of 2016 thus far, Work by Rihanna:

“Dry!... Me a desert him

No time to have you lurking

Him ah go act like he don't like it

You know I dealt with you the nicest

Nobody touch me, you the righteous

Nobody text me in a crisis.”

Not only is this grammar atrocious, but it has little meaning. It appears that someone sat down and wrote down every random thought he had for about five minutes and turned those into the lyrics for this song. (Or the lyricist was high.) Either way, there is no real meaning here—and this is the case for many modern songs.

One of the most fundamental elements of art is meaning. Words are powerful weapons, to be used for good or for evil, and to throw this weapon away is a great crime. It is the duty of the artist to deliver a message to the world—but this message must be worth delivering. Otherwise, the artist is betraying his own art form. Such is true of the lyricist.

Not only are meaningless lyrics disloyal to art everywhere, but they are also insulting to the listener. Mankind craves meaning in his daily experience, whether it be in the books he reads, the movies he watches, or the songs he listens to. This is why people everywhere will reject anything which does not seem to have a “point to it.” The desire for meaning is an essential part of being human—hence lyricists who are content with writing nonsense assume, consciously or subconsciously, that their audiences are not really human.

Modern lyrics are often devoid of poetic technique. Although modern lyricists tend to be able to use rhyme, they hardly ever know how to use meter. For those who may not be familiar with poetic technique, meter is what creates a melodious flow to the words, using a certain number of poetic feet (combinations of stressed and unstressed syllables) per line. A lack of poetic meter is what causes songs to sound clunky.

Take these lines from Cheap Thrills by Sia:

“Till I hit the dance floor

Hit the dance floor

I got all I need

No I ain't got cash

I ain't got cash

But I got you baby.”

There is no meter to be found here. The lyrics are awkward and clumsy, all because the lyricist either had no understanding of his own craft, or he did not think it necessary to take time to write something as beautiful and melodic as poetry is meant to be.

Modern lyrics often make no effort to say things uniquely and beautifully. Part of the point of poetry (and by extension lyrics) is to explain even old ideas, such as the power of love or the joy of life, in a new and interesting way.

Let’s look at Can’t Stop the Feeling, by Justin Timberlake:

“I got this feeling inside my bones

It goes electric, wavey when I turn it on

All through my city, all through my home

We're flying up, no ceiling, when we're in our zone.”

How many times have you heard some variation on the phrase “I got this feeling” in a pop song? How about “in my bones?” How about some analogy involving emotions and electricity? How about references to flying as an symbol for happiness or pleasure? These phrases are not new. Many, if not most, pop songs are built on vague emotional ideas and shallow cliches. This, once again, is a symptom of laziness on the part of the lyricist. Rather than struggle to find fresh, exciting ways to say things, they give up and use old, tired phrases.

I have spent a good amount of time complaining about lyrics. “But Sophie,” you may interrupt, “where are the good lyrics? Surely there must be some songs who combine beautiful words with beautiful music!”

Allow me to direct you to some of the most glorious songs ever written, songs which accomplish the purpose of their art form far more artistically and delightfully than Rihanna, Sia, or Justin Timberlake. These songs are classic Christian hymns.

The music for the hymn How Can I Keep From Singing? was written in the 1800s by a man named Robert Lowry—and despite the fact that thousands of Christians have been encouraged and lifted up by the spiritual joy of these words, no one knows who penned them.

Some of the lyrics are:

“My life goes on in endless song

Above earth's lamentations,

I hear the real, though far-off hymn

That hails a new creation.

Through all the tumult and the strife

I hear its music ringing,

It sounds an echo in my soul.

How can I keep from singing?”

This song—and indeed, classic Christian music in general—is a testament to the powerful combination of a talented lyricist who delivers an important message through well-written poetry and an excellent musician who accompanies that message with beautiful music.

Compare these classic hymns with even the Christian songs of today. The top current Christian song on the Billboard charts is called Thy Will by Hillary Scott & the Scott Family, and some of the words say:

“Just trying to make sense

Of all your promises

Sometimes I gotta stop

Remember that you're God

And I am not.”

Of course, there is nothing wrong with this message of comfort. But it may be time for lyricists, especially Christian lyricists, to step back and carefully examine their own lyrics. It is true that God cares about the state of our hearts, not the showiness of the words we speak—but if, when faced with the task of describing the almighty God of the universe, we are willing to write cheap, simplistic, and occasionally even meaningless words, our hearts may not be in the right state after all. If I am standing in the presence of God, I want to sing words of beauty and power, words that are meaningful and worshipful.

Whether you are a secular lyricist with a message to deliver or a Christian lyricist with a desire to worship, you must seek better than this. Rise above the muck of the culture and write beautiful words. You have the power to change hearts, affect souls, even save lives. Do not throw away this power.

And if you are a music lover, pay attention to the words you listen to. Songs speak to our souls, and we can feed our souls well by being thoughtful about what we choose to hear. In other words, do not blindly sing a song because the lyrics sound vaguely Christian. Do not listen to songs just because they are catchy. Think about the words you sing. Think about their technique, their message. Support those artists whose messages are good, and their delivery excellent.

This is not to say that you should not listen to popular music. I listen to many songs whose lyrics are less than exemplary. You need not demand the poetry of angels every time you turn on the radio station—but perhaps you should not wallow in the muck of the earth either. Words matter, because words have power, and when faced with a choice between words that are empty and words that voice the longing of my soul, I will always choose to sing the latter.

“While though the tempest loudly roars,

I hear the truth, it liveth.

And though the darkness 'round me close,

Songs in the night it giveth.

No storm can shake my inmost calm,

While to that rock I'm clinging.

Since love is lord of heaven and earth

How can I keep from singing?”