Pausing Power (Part 3): Reaping the benefits

As I mentioned many times in this mini-series, there’s really nothing to fear about gaps of silence or “dead air”. It’s like jumping at the sight of your own shadow. Sure, you’re incredibly frightened at first glance but then you laugh at yourself because your fear was based on something not-so-scary after all. In the end, once you give it a shot, there’s really nothing to fear about gaps of silence. In fact, taking the time to pause on stage isn’t just beneficial for you (by giving you time to catch your breath!) but it’s also helpful for your audience. Here are some of the benefits of a well-placed pause in your sermon or speech:

(1) Let my people think. A well-timed pause will give your audience the chance to reflect on what you’re saying and to catch up to where you are. If you shoot out ideas like an out-of-control machine gun, chances are a ton of bullets will miss their target. If you’re giving your audience many ideas, pause often. If you don’t, your audience will either stay stuck on your first idea (and no longer pay attention to the rest) or they’ll fast forward to where you are in an attempt to keep up with you. Either way, your ideas won’t get across very well. Pause strategically to give your people time to think.

(2) Build suspense. Everybody loves a good story. But it’s not just the content of a story that captivates an audience. It’s also how you tell the story that draws an audience into excitement. A well-placed pause in your story builds suspense and tension and puts the audience at the edge of their seats. When your audience is at the edge of their seats, you have attained maximum attention (they can’t wait to hear what’s next!). And when you’ve got their best attention, give them the resolution or punch line of your story.

(3) Give us time. Lastly, pauses also serve a technical purpose while you’re on stage. If you ask your audience to do something, you need to give them time to accomplish it. For example, if you ask your audience to turn to a particular passage, you need to give them time to fumble through their Bibles. If you ask a reflective question, give your audience time to process it or write it down. And if you tell a joke, give them time to laugh. When the laughter dies down, that’s when you move on to your next point.

Pausing is one of those often overlooked and misunderstood concepts in public speaking. But when used well, pauses and gaps of silence can be a powerful and useful addition to any sermon or speech.

To read other articles of this mini-series, click here: “Pausing Power” Mini-Series

Currently Reading: Crazy Love

After reading his book on the Holy Spirit (Forgotten God), I decided to pick up the paperback that put Francis Chan on the literary map: Crazy Love. It’s a book that details the incredible and relentless love of God (His crazy love!) for all of humankind. Now, of course, I know that God loves me. I’ve heard that particular statement many times in the past. In fact, I’ve declared that statement countless of times on stage. So it’ll be very interesting to find out what Francis Chan has to say on a topic that has been said and re-said thousands of times before. Here we go!

Pausing Power (Part 2): Noticing the silence

As I mentioned in the first article of this mini-series, public speakers tend to fear “dead air” or any gaps of silence and so they attempt to avoid it at all costs. And this fear is usually based on assumptions made about the audience that simply aren’t true: that they sense that we’re lost, or that the atmosphere has turned awkward, or that a five second pause is way too long. Based on experience, however, I find that the audience rarely notices any pauses or gaps of silence. And if they do notice it, they simply won’t remember.

One Saturday night, in one of my earliest speaking engagements, I was preaching at a youth worship service when all of sudden, a speaker’s worst nightmare happened: I forgot what to say next. Sweat beads started to pour down, the temperature went up, and the room felt awkward. I really didn’t know what to do next. Thankfully, I had my manuscript with me on stage that day (I probably wouldn’t have survived without it!). And so I simply moved to the lectern, turned to the page where I stopped, and continued from there.

Now being an inexperienced speaker at the time, it felt horrible. I had forgotten what to say next. I had to stop to check my notes. And to top it all off, it felt like an eternity to move from where I was standing to the lectern, turn to the correct page, and find the spot where I left off. Surely the audience would have suspected that something was wrong at that moment in time. But to my genuine surprise, they didn’t notice it at all. After the sermon, I asked a couple of people if they noticed the eternal pause that had taken place on stage. But no one seemed to pay attention to the long “dead air” that was coming from my end of the auditorium. In fact, what felt like an eternity to me was apparently just a few measly seconds to the audience. That experience taught me that there was really nothing to fear about long pauses and gaps of silence. The audience rarely notices things like that unless you make it obvious to them.

In the final part of this mini-series, I’ll talk about the importance and usefulness of well-placed pauses and gaps of silence.

To read Part 3 of this mini-series, click here: Pausing Power (Part 3): Reaping the Benefits

To read Part 1 of this mini-series, click here: Pausing Power (Part 1): Dead air

Love the size of a football field

One of the most controversial statements made by Jesus is found somewhere towards the end of Luke 14. Here we find a crowd of people following Jesus every step of the way. At this point in time, Jesus had reached celebrity status in Israel. He was incredibly popular with the people. But Jesus knew that the people following behind him were not his true disciples: real, authentic, hardcore, serious followers. That’s why he turned around, rebuked the crowd, and explained to them what it took to be a serious disciple.

Jesus said to the people something incredibly interesting (offensive in my opinion!):”If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters—yes, even his own life—he cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:26, NIV). WOW, hold your horses, trucks, and Ferraris. Did Jesus just say what I think he just said? Did Jesus just ask me to hate somebody? According to Jesus, if I really want to be his disciple, I must hate my mom, my dad, my brother, my sister, my wife, my kids, and even myself. Now that’s offensive if you asked me. I love my family. Why ask me to hate them at all? So what could Jesus be saying here?

Jesus couldn’t have meant a literal hate because in other parts of the gospels, Jesus teaches so much about love. Love God. Love your neighbor. Love your enemies. Why the sudden shift from love to hate?

This is what Jesus was simply saying: If you want to be his serious disciple, you must love him far more than anyone else in this world. If the size of your love for your family is the size of a soccer ball, the size of your love for Jesus must be the size of a football field. So when you compare your love for your family to your love for Jesus, it looks like you hate your family because you love Jesus so much more than them. And that’s what Jesus asks of every disciple. You must love him far more than anyone or anything.

Pausing Power (Part 1): Dead air

Several years ago, I got the chance to speak at a church four times in a row in one particular Sunday. After my first delivery (it was 7 in the morning!), the stage manager commended my energy and told me that it’s OK to pause once in a while. He then gave me a water bottle and told me to take a sip on stage every so often to give myself a little breathing room. Out of the next 120 minutes of preaching (divided into 3 sermons), I took ONE sip and that was about it. At the end of the day, the water bottle was still full to the brink. That episode succinctly reflects what many young public speakers fear while being on stage: dead air.

“Dead air” refers to any gap of silence coming from the speaker’s end. A speaker’s normal tendency is to fear the “dead air” and to avoid it at all costs. Since I find myself on stage, I better open up my mouth and say something (or anything!) to the crowd that has gathered. And so speakers tend to fill in gaps of silence with fillers (i.e. “um…” “er…” “ah…”) or to speed onto the next sentence like a 12 year old boy who just took off in his grandpa’s tractor trailer. (OK, that didn’t make sense. Someone needs to lay off the caffeine now.)

Public speakers tend to fear “dead air” for a handful of unfounded reasons:

(1) Speakers unconsciously believe that “dead air” equals to “having nothing to say”.  They believe that the audience will start to think that the speaker is lost, confused, or has forgotten what to say next.

(2) Speakers feel that long pauses generate an awkward atmosphere in the room. The longer the pause, the more awkward everybody feels.

(3) For a speaker, a five second pause can feel like an eternity. A one second pause can feel like ten seconds while you’re on stage. Therefore, if ever a speaker does pause, it’s usually not long enough.

Again, these fears are simply unfounded. They’re mostly based on what we assume about the audience: that they sense that we’re lost, or that the atmosphere has turned awkward, or that a five second pause is way too long. These simply aren’t true. You need to remember that the audience isn’t out to get you. They’ve gathered together because they genuinely want to hear what you have to say.

In the next part of this mini-series, I’ll share an experience that taught me not to fear “dead air”.

To read Part 2 of this mini-series, click here: Pausing Power (Part 2): Noticing the silence

Back to being 2

I was at Starbucks the other day with my cafe mocha in hand when a mother came in with what appeared to be her 2 year old son. The boy was a curious little tiger exploring various items in the shop from coffee mugs to store decorations. The baristas were admiring the boy’s curiosity when his mother remarked, “He’s learning something new everyday”. I found the statement intriguing and I wondered to myself: When did we stop becoming 2-year-olds? When did we stop learning something new everyday?

I believe God is trying to teach us something new every single day of our lives. And our main problem is that we don’t stop long enough to hear what He’s saying. In the gym that I used to go to, there was a particular man whom I called “The Energizer Bunny”. He would climb onto the treadmill, push the start button, and run for about 30 minutes. After 30 minutes of intense racing, sweat would be pouring down his body which often formed into a small puddle below the machine. (I brought a friend to the gym once and she complained that water was dripping on her from the ceiling. No, friend, that’s NOT water. That’s the Energizer Bunny on the machine next to you!) The Energizer Bunny would then push the pause button, get off the treadmill, and leave to get a fresh shirt. 5 minutes later, he would reemerge onto the treadmill doing his next 30-minute run. He would repeat this about 3-4 times in one session!

Life can oftentimes feel like you’re on a perpetual treadmill with all the work that needs to be done and all the tasks that need to be completed. And when we’re on the treadmill of life, it can get really hard to hear God’s voice. In order for us to know what God is trying to teach us, we need to learn to stop long enough to hear what He has to say. We need to learn to push the pause button, get off the treadmill, and enter into His glory and presence. That’s when we can be like 2-year-olds again who learn something new everyday.

Double-header weekend

I’m bracing myself for a hectic weekend (which doesn’t even include Christmas shopping!). I’ll be preaching a double-header at Word Became Flesh Ministries in Brampton today and Chinese Gospel Church in Scarborough tomorrow. Thankfully, it’s not two completely different sermons or that would mess up what little brain cells I have left. I also have to fit a Christmas party somewhere in the middle. Our preaching professor invited us to his place and I really don’t want to miss that. Let the fun begin!