Ears to Hear

The ancient Greek philosopher Epictetus said, "We have two ears and one mouth so that we can listen twice as much as we speak." That statement is simply ... well ... it's simply profound. Just think how much better the world would be if more people actually listened more than they speak. My guess is there would be far less hate and much more love if we would all give it a try ... listening more and speaking less, that is. Heck, I'd be willing to bet my last cent that if everyone would commit to trying it for only a month, the changes that would take place would be truly phenomenal.

For my Facebook status last Sunday, I wrote these words ... "Sometimes life really is stranger than fiction. Spending the afternoon with Nate Phelps and his brother Mark as we filmed in front of Westboro Baptist Church and the Equality House definitely qualifies as one of those times." If you would have told me I would have ever in a million years been standing on the street right in front of the place where Fred Phelps first began his campaign of hate, I would have told you that you were seriously in need of finding a life-saving head doctor of your very own. And, as Sunday afternoon proved, I would have owed you a giant apology because you would have been absolutely correct in your prediction.

I had been fretting and stewing and worrying all day about the effect that returning to Westboro could possibly have on Nate and his brother Mark. I was especially concerned for Mark ... it's been 40 years since he stood on that street ... 40 years since he saw the house he grew up in ... 40 years since he and Nate walked the steps they took on Sunday together. When I first met Mark, I was struck by the physical differences between the two brothers ... Nate is a giant of a man (at least to a tiny person like me), while Mark is more diminutive in stature. However, when it comes to the size of their hearts and the goodness contained within them, I'd say they are pretty evenly matched ... they are without question two of the bravest, most courageous, giving, loving, compassionate men I've ever known. I couldn't help but marvel at their strength as they turned and looked at the place where they suffered so much pain, the place where they were severely beaten and abused year after year after year.

For all my fretting and stewing and worrying about Nate and Mark, I never once thought about how being in such close proximity to Westboro for the first time might affect me personally. The moment I stepped out of the car, a feeling of terror swept through me like none I can ever remember ... my palms were sweating, my heart was pounding and my stomach was churning. The guys couldn't see or hear me because they were already moving down the street in step with the camera, but I was whispering, "Please keep us safe ... please keep us safe ... please keep us safe." I didn't need the reinforcement of the vile and shameful signs that were posted in various places to remind me of the vitriolic hatred that resides on the other side of the fence ... I could feel it oozing from the building and crawling across the lawn, its icy tentacles trying desperately to wrap themselves around my heart and soul.

As I willed my legs to walk, I realized it wasn't the sight of Westboro or the various signs scattered about the property that terrified me, it was the silence of Westboro that caused the terror to engulf me. It was the silence that sliced through my heart like a knife, the silence that often accompanies child abuse. I closed my eyes as I thought about Nate and Mark being hit over and over and over again with the mattock handle their father used to beat them. "Did they scream out in pain?" I wondered. "Did they beg for mercy? Did they plead for their lives or did they pray that death would take them?" My ears pounded with the sounds of hatred that Fred Phelps spewed forth from the pulpit of the church ... my heart ached with the thought of him beating and beating and beating his children.

The ancient Greek philosopher Epictetus said, "We have two ears and one mouth so that we can listen twice as much as we speak." That statement is simply ... well ... it's simply profound, friends ... simply profound indeed.