That’s Enough. Shut Up and Sit Down!
By Jim Schuh
Which of us hasn’t wanted to jump up and shout those words to a long-winded speaker? All of us, at one time or another, have been victims of someone who goes for on too long. In some cases, the speech is a sermon. In others, it’s at an event of some kind, like a graduation.
At times, it gets so bad that we stop paying attention to what the speaker is saying – we squirm in our seats and our minds wander as we tune out the speaker and begin thinking of things like what’s on our grocery list. In the end, we don’t remember anything about the speaker’s message, only that it lasted too long.
The fact is that most speeches, and sermons, are too lengthy. Not many speech-givers or homilists – those who deliver a sermon – acknowledge it. They may have the idea that length equals quality. That’s not so; it’s brevity that makes for a good presentation.
A friend, retired UWSP Biology Professor Charley White, once recalled this bit of wisdom when we discussed lengthy speeches and sermons:
“The recipe for a good speech (or sermon) contains plenty of shortening.”
Most people who give speeches or sermons need an editor to whip their comments into shape, but many don’t have one. It’s rare that speakers are themselves good editors – usually it takes someone else to point out what to shorten and what to eliminate.
My friend, the late George Rogers, had a special talent for brevity in his articles for the Stevens Point Journal. He was able to capture the essence of a story in very few words. I learned a lot from him about “writing short.”
In my broadcasting years, I found there’s nothing like having a clock as a good editor. Time isn’t elastic – five minutes are five minutes – and when they’re gone, the newscast is over.
Great speakers are rare birds. Abraham Lincoln was one; his brief, 271-word Gettysburg Address Civil War speech is one of the most recognized in American history.
Turning to sermons, Charley White told me of a long-winded minister whose sermons seemed never to end. The preacher started by telling his congregation what he was going to tell them. Then he’d tell them. Then he’d tell them what he’d just told them. It was sort of a “trinity” of sermons. Charley recalled another bit of wisdom for those who speak too long, making it a certainty that nobody would remember anything they said, “The mind can’t absorb what the seat cannot bear.”
I once heard a story about a network announcer who had to take unusual measures to end a religious broadcast on time. I’ve never been sure the tale is true, but it’s a good illustration of the perils of going on too long.
The preacher was nearing the end of his broadcast but was wound up and it became clear to the announcer that the he’d have to do what he could to make sure the program ended on time. So as time was about to expire, he waited for the preacher to take a breath and jumped in, saying, “Amen. This is NBC.”
I’m fortunate to have a pastor who knows the value of brevity. His homilies rarely last more than eight or ten minutes. His message is concise, clear and understandable. Nobody’s been tempted to jump up and shout, “That’s enough…sit down!”