a conversational liturgy.

Conversations make me nervous.¹

My internal monologue is often as follows:

What should I say? Where do I look? What if my answers aren’t interesting enough?  What if I forget what we talked about last time?

Why are they looking at me like that? Am I making a weird face?

Maybe I shouldn’t ask myself these questions in the middle of a real conversation…

I want to know people, and through the knowing, love them well. One of the best ways to know people well is to talk to them well.²

But what does that look like? If you could slice a good conversation into bits and label its parts, which organs would be most crucial to its function?

What is it that makes a conversation good?

There’s a bevy of online resources on the subject, but they tend to be painted in broad brushstrokes: generic tips and tricks, drained of their potency. 

Every community is different (because every person is different) and not everyone looks for the same qualities in a conversation. To understand my own community, I had to investigate closer to the source. So I just asked some of my friends! 

I reached out to about twenty people and asked them, “What are the characteristics of an ideal conversation between friends?”

The responses were a delightful variety. Some focused on the value of laughter and listening. Others emphasized thoughtful questions and shared activities. Still others appreciated challenge and debate. 

Despite this diversity of perspectives, there seemed to be some common threads running through everyone’s words. In an attempt to map this out, I wrote everything down and brought it to my mental corkboard to make some connections.³

My conclusions might be more Charlie Day in It’s Always Sunny than Russell Crowe in A Beautiful Mind, but I like the way they look. So here we go!

the liturgy

No reason to beat around the bush. There are three qualities of a good conversation – at least, according to my community:

1. Whimsy,
2. Presence,
3. and Truth.

Whimsy – Am I having fun?

“…loud uncontrollable laughter…”
“…randomness…”
“…easy, natural banter…”
“all about camaraderie…”
“…shenanigans…”
“…the joy of each other’s company…”
“…at least one memory or inside joke that warrants a laugh…”

For some reason, this one surprised me.

People want their conversations to be fun. I think this reflects a desire for commonality. We want to be on equal footing and have familiarity with the other person, and there’s something about Whimsy – humor, shenanigans, randomness – that draws us closer together. It’s hard to belly-laugh together at a good joke and not find a profound sense of camaraderie building.

Connecting around shared interests falls under this category as well, I think – there’s a special joy I find in geeking out about a mutual enthusiasm. The more idiosyncratic, the better: nothing screams Whimsy like an hour-long deep dive into the intricacies of Runescape fanfiction.⁴

The whimsical, while valuable on its own, also helps us relax our defenses. One friend told me that having a low-effort activity – like drinking a beer or staring at a fire – helps soothe those moments in between words that can sometimes feel excruciating. My anxious attempts to break the silence can sometimes break the whole conversation. Instead, complementing the silence with something low-key can go a long way.

Having something to focus on besides the conversation itself can evoke a special kind of openness. The Whimsy of the moment keeps my ego and self-conscience distracted, letting me sneak vulnerable truths behind their backs.

I’ve found that this can be particularly meaningful for men – at least, for American men whose cultural upbringing may trend towards hyper-individualism (ergo relational stuntedness.) Whimsy can be a benevolent diversion, weakening the grip that this stereotype applies to our throats and helping us speak with unguarded earnestness.

Presence – Does it seem like I care?

“…finding creative ways to ask ‘how are you?’ that prompts deeper thought…”
“…intentional body language…”
“…everything else flows from respect…”
“…being consistent in the midst of inconsistency…”
“…enthusiastic listening from both parties…”
“…being heard and understood without judgment…”
“…mutual interest and engagement…”

A good conversation requires me to be present, investing my time and attention. But, just as importantly, I need to clearly express my Presence.

This expression takes two forms: physical and functional.

Physically, eye contact is just the beginning, and can obviously be overdone.⁵ I should greet my friends when I see them, shake their hands, hug them tight. Everyone has different boundaries and preferences when it comes to proximity, but if there isn’t some form of physical interaction, it leaves an interpersonal void that can quickly mutate from the physical to the relational.⁶

How do I appear? Am I fidgeting? Are my eyes darting around? Am I drumming my fingers? Even if these things have no bearing on how invested I am in a given conversation, they can send a strong message. Instead, I should try to breathe deeply and slowly, look my friend in the eye, even posture myself towards them if possible. Everything I do with my body should communicate, “I’m here.”

Functionally, how am I choosing to prioritize the other person? One of the most common elements I heard from my friends was the value of being understood.

This sounds simple enough – almost a “duh” moment – but how does it actually take shape?

When I’m trying to understand someone, I need to ask thoughtful questions. Then, as those questions are answered, I need to ask more questions that are informed by what I’ve learned so far. In college, I attended a talk from the eminent Kimberly Thornbury, who advised me and my fellow classmates that five words could have a transformative impact on our relationships: “Tell Me More About That.” This phrase communicates not only that you’re listening to what you’re being told, but that you want to know more about it – and consequently, more about the person telling you about it.

When I’m trying to understand someone, I also need to spend time with them. A good conversation is made even better by the next one. I need to seek out new conversations with friends, establishing a consistent Presence that makes my intentionality clear. Being present with another person is not a one-and-done deal – it’s a rhythm of life. Conversations are like individual notes of music. They’re nice on their own, but they really come alive when strung together with others like them. They become something new, building into a greater harmony.⁷

Truth – Am I being unguardedly earnest?

“…reaching the interiority of each other’s life…”
“…a heart check…”
“…drop the front and express yourself without fear…”
“…extreme trust…”
“…talking about struggles…”
“…space for disagreement…”
“…questions and challenges to concepts and ideas…”

When someone asks about my life, how do I respond?

The way we answer simple questions can infuse an otherwise ordinary conversation with deep meaning. Am I more concerned with presenting a certain image of myself, or am I leaning into intentional vulnerability?

My friends often mentioned trust as a prerequisite to share about themselves honestly in a conversation. Without trust, Truth is hard.

But where does trust come from? Typically, it’s something that builds slowly over time. We discern the character of another individual not in one flash of insight but in a slow drip. As trust grows, we’re able to more easily reveal our interior selves.

So trust is a prerequisite for vulnerability. But I think that vulnerability is a prerequisite for trust, as well. I don’t really know if someone is trustworthy until I vulnerably entrust them with something first. 

If both of these things are true, I could easily find myself in a Catch-22, unable to be vulnerable for lack of trust, yet unable to build trust for lack of vulnerability.

One approach to break out of this paradox: sacrifice. Someone has to take the first step into Truth without trust. Yet each is fertilizer for the other, and in the earnest sharing of oneself, the seeds of trust are nourished. It’s risky business, scary and sometimes frustrating, but it can bear rich fruit.

So, how am I doing, really? What am I struggling with right now? What’s brought me deep joy recently? I should share these things with my friends. And as trust slowly builds, they may return the favor, revealing more of themselves to me, and Truth will flourish.

Whimsy, Presence, and Truth! These three gems materialized from the collective mind of my community.

But… it feels like something is missing – something that demands to be included but doesn’t fit neatly into any of these categories.

A good conversation should inspire Action.

Action – Am I ready to serve?

I’ll make this section short, because (1) it’s not well-corroborated by my friends’ perspectives, and (2) this post is already overbearingly long, and (3) I’m writing at a Panera right now and my bread bowl is all gone and I want to go home now and see my wife.

So here it is: if I want to love my friends well, and if love takes shape in habitual acts of service,⁸ then conversations only become expressions of love if they compel me to act on behalf of my friend. 

Here are three ways this should take shape: 

1. I should act out my faith. If my friend has shared pains or joys with me, I should pray with and for them, as much as they’re comfortable. 

2. I should serve them. If there’s a way I can practically assist my friend – helping with a project, weighing in on a decision, running an errand, covering the tab – I should do these things.

3. I should offer accountability. One of my favorite parts of marriage is that my wife knows the person that I’m trying to become, and she encourages me in that direction as much as possible. If my friend is trying to do something differently – whether it be drinking more water or fighting addiction – I can offer to check up on them. And if they’re interested, I should do so as consistently as possible.

So… Whimsy, Presence, Truth, and Action.

Not a perfect system – nothing is! – but I think it’s a good start.

What do you think?

footnotes

1. I’m not going to gatekeep, but just know that this might be a harder post to relate to if you’re an extrovert. ↩︎
2. The average American reports spending about 36 minutes a day “socializing and communicating.” This is a lot less time than I expected… so shouldn’t we use it well? ↩︎
3. Connections made with red yarn and pushpins, of course. ↩︎
4. It was a long time ago, but still – don’t knock it ‘til you try it. ↩︎
5. It’s a conversation, not a staring contest. ↩︎
6. Not to keep making this about men, but… hug your friends, dudes! ↩︎
7. Some know this harmony by the name “friendship!” *drops mic* ↩︎
8. Some may disagree with this definition of love, but it’s a hill I’m willing to die on. Fight me! (Or let’s just get coffee sometime and talk about it.) ↩︎