Just Say No

I’ve always enjoyed Barbara Brown Taylor’s writings. When God is Silent is one of my all time favorite little books. Recently, she wrote an article in Christian Century, “Getting to No”. It was her response to the book, Getting to Yes, Negotiating Agreement Without Giving In, by Fisher. It is a leadership book that provides a proven strategy for coming to mutually acceptable agreements, where both parties say yes.

But it wasn’t so much her engagement with the book’s ideas, as with the book’s title. For yes is a word that defines much of our culture. Just about every day, someone wants me to say yes. Even as I write, a note on my screen says “Do you have the sermon title? Yes?” This time of year, there are tons of merchants hoping I will say yes. Last night at Best Buy, each aisle felt like running a gauntlet, each item shouting,  “Yes?’  “Yes?”  The latest Macy’s ad reaches out with its coupons and latest reductions and screams—“Just say yes!”  REI and Amazon and Nordstrom have all found their way into my daily e-mails, each calling out—“Say yes!”  Parishioners want me to read a particular book or listen to a tape by someone who will surely change my life. Just say yes. My kids seem to sometimes wear a sign that says—“Dad, just say yes”. Even my dog greets me each evening with eyes that seem to plead—“Just say yes.”   Say yes to a walk, to scratching my back, filling my dish, letting me lie on the couch. And worst of all are the constant pleas within my own soul—just say yes, and do this project. Keep up with all the other people that seem so amazing because they seem to be able to say yes to so much. Even this blog site is constantly nudging me to say yes.

I write all of this, for I am certain just about everyone reading this can identify. Yes hangs over us like a Portland fog. Every time we say no, a fear takes hold, suggesting that we missed a great opportunity, a great buy, a great moment. We wrestle with the fact we may have missed it, or disappointed someone, and we try to shake it off. And the only way out is to begin what Taylor refers to as the spiritual practice of saying no. This has been her solution. As she puts it, “When I was 20, my life was a cruise ship. There were all kinds of places I could go on it, with plenty of room and time for everything. Now I am closer to a small houseboat. The accommodations are still comfortable, but my horizons are limited. To bring anything new on board means getting rid of something else. Saying yes requires saying no.” Saying no in order to clear space for a few carefully planted trees to grow.

I too am at that point. I am starting to say no to Sunday ads—soon I may even say no to a Sunday paper. No, I don’t need an upgrade, I don’t need another pair. And this requires discipline—in a culture that says I do need these things. Taylor describes the discipline as one involving resistance; discernment-saying no to something worthwhile in order to fulfill a much greater priority; ego-evacuation-saying no is a great way of whittling me down to size, making time for me just to listen to God. Saying no to lesser gods is part of saying yes to God. Saying no to some things in order to celebrate Christmas.