Card Carrying Member of the Whisperers Club

In 1998, Robert Redford directed a film called, The Horse Whisperer. According to Wikipedia, “a horse whisperer is a horse trainer who adopts a sympathetic view of the motives, needs, and desires of the horse, based on natural horsemanship and modern equine psychology. The term goes back to the early nineteenth century when an Irish horseman, Daniel Sullivan, made a name for himself in England by rehabilitating horses that had become vicious and intractable due to abuse or accidental trauma.”

I have decided to become a church whisperer.















Really. I’m almost finished my book, and I think I’d be decent at it. I certainly have a sympathetic view of the motives, needs, and desires of the church, based on natural churchmanship (I was one of the finest churchmen – even though I am technically a girl). The placard hanging outside my office could say:

Wendy Melchior
Church Whisperer
Rehabilitator of churches
that have become vicious and intractable.

I bet I’d be busy. And, sure, click here for the definition of intractable. Sheesh, how’d you graduate from high school? (I peeked, too).

Disdain for Christians is prevalent, and although we churchgoers like to call it “persecution,” some of the bad feelings have been earned. Some Christians have behaved in ways that have gotten them excused from the dinner table. We need a whisperer, or at the very least, a long moment in the time out chair.

Interestingly, people are ticked at the church, but still like Jesus, and I think I know at least one reason why. As much as I love her, the church is preoccupied with herself, but Jesus was always interested in others. I’ve worked for the church, and in recent months, I have had the fascinating opportunity to visit lots of different ones. In both instances, I have been struck by the enormous amount of energy and time spent to meet her own needs, to satisfy her clientele, to preserve her traditions and to fulfill a charge that she was never given in the first place.

Jesus was preoccupied in a completely different way – and it had very little to do with singing, stained glass and flashy children’s programs. He cared for marginalized people, He met their needs and He listened to outsiders.

I may actually need to keep scouring the Help Wanted ads, because I suspect we already have a Whisperer. He says, “Shhhhh, quiet down now, girl. Relax. Don’t fight it, just put this bit in your mouth and listen for a while.”

Darn, I was kinda diggin’ the chaps.

It’s an elite club, really: Horse Whisperer. Ghost Whisperer. Dog Whisperer. Church Whisperer. Oh, and there’s the Cart Whisperer. Click below.