I am a student of rhetoric. Several centuries ago, the Greek philosopher Aristotle defined rhetoric as the art of persuasion, and wrote a compendium of rules that govern its practice. The ancients considered the capacity to persuade another through discourse (written but primarily oral) was a skill that could be acquired and deployed to great effect—by those with both good and evil intent.

I am unsure when my affection for rhetoric began, but my parents fostered and foddered it. Growing up, my father challenged me to memorize poetry and famous speeches. He was a pastor, so I listened to him preach every Sunday. Afterwards, I would imitate his vocabulary, his gestures, and his accents. I can remember and cite from memory entire sections of speeches that I have heard since since I was a little boy. In fact, it was an oration that I heard when I was 12 during a funeral that I attended in Birmingham, Alabama that first awakened my love for, deep interest in and study of the skill of moving people with words.

Given my love for, deep interest in, and study of the skill of moving people with words, you can deduce how excited I have been this summer as our country prepares for our presidential elections this fall. Politics and policies aside, I listen to, occasionally enjoy but always study the speeches. And although I have my preferred candidates, I even listen to the presentations of those candidates whom I vigorous disagree with. Over the course of the past several weeks, I have heard some pretty good speeches. But I heard one this week that easily ranks among the most effective of the bunch.

It was given by one of our former presidents. And there was one line that caught my eye and earned my homage. As he was dissecting one of the policies of an opposing party, the crowd began to boo. The crowd was not booing him, but booing the policies and the politicians who support them. Surprisingly, the 44th President of the United States interrupted the crowd. Then he injected a phrase as deftly and as deadly as one of Muhammad Ali’s jabs. He said “Don’t Boo. Vote!”  I was startled.  Then impressed.  He boo-ed “boo-ing.”

Usually, “boo-ing” is welcomed by most orators. Boo-ing is an exclamation. It is an interjection that is used to express contempt or disapproval. No performer—whether they are a singer, actor, comedian, or public speaker—likes to be boo-ed. But public speakers don’t mind if the crowd boos someone else—especially if the objective of their presentation is to persuade the crowd to dislike somebody or some course of action. So when the crowd boo-ed during our former president’s speech, I assumed that he would let the boo’s linger in the air for as long as possible. Instead, he immediately interrupted them. He said “Don’t Boo. Vote!!”

I know enough about the business of speechmaking to know that that line was probably not in the script. It was a spontaneous outburst born out of a deep conviction of what he believes is at stake in this election.

What our former president was getting at is how easy it is to complain. His words reminded me of the pungent observation that greets us in Proverbs 14:25, which says:

Hard work always pays off; mere talk puts no bread on the table.

It’s easier to boo than it is to vote.

It’s easier to boo than it is to exercise.

It’s easier to boo than it is to save.

It’s easier to boo than it is to serve.

It’s easier to boo than it is to encourage.

It’s easier to boo than it is to pray.

It’s easier to boo than it is to study.

It’s easier to boo than it is to create.

The point he was making was that we should do more than just talk about what we find unhelpful, unsatisfying, unrewarding, or ungodly. We should do something about it!

Duke Ellington once said that “I took the energy that it takes to pout and wrote some blues.” I encourage all of us to adopt that strategy. Take the energy that it takes to boo, complain, fuss, whine, wheedle, and wince, and use it to create something that will make a difference, help somebody and outlasts you.