The Viking Sermon

I've been involved with Toastmasters through my workplace for about three years now, and I am really enjoying it, even more so now that I am moving on to some of the more advanced manuals.

Playing to my strengths, I selected Humorous Speeches and Storytelling as my next two modules, and am trying to alternate between them. The first assignment in Storytelling is to relate a folk-story without any notes, and I found it surprisingly challenging to find one I was interested in telling.

In the end, I left fairy tales behind and started looking into mythology, and while the Greek mythos is full of great tales,they are also exceedingly familiar. Instead, I turned to Norse mythology, drawing less upon the eddas and sagas and the works of Snorri Sturlisson, and more upon my youthful exposure to the Deities and Demigods manual for D&D, and the Thor comics of Walt Simonson.

It didn't take me long to find a story suitable for telling from memory, and quickly chose the tale of the Binding of Fenrir, the great wolf. The starring god of this particular story is one of my favourites, despite getting almost no mention in the aforementioned comic books. I first encountered Tyr in the Norse mythology section of the D&DG manual back in high school, but had seen various iterations of how hehad lost his right hand over the years, sometimes just in articles about how the days of the week got their names, as the Germanic name for Tyr, Tiw, is where we get Tuesday from. The fact that he shares a name with one of my favourite metal bands is just icing on the cake, really. But now that I had my 'what', I really needed a 'why', and that presented a bit of a struggle.

Because of the way speeches get evaluated in Toastmasters, I am always consciously looking for a reason for my speeches; time is valuable, why should a group of people sit down and listen to you use up 7-9 minutes of it? What is your speech's purpose?

I do believe that while not every tale has a moral, virtually all stories have a lesson or two they can teach us, and I felt very strongly that Tyr's story has a lot to say about the importance of keeping one's word, and remaining resolute in the face of consequence.

With this in mind, I pieced together a framing element for the story: I would play the part of someone relating the Binding of Fenrir to a group of younger vikings prior to a dangerous voyage. I would use Tyr as a model for oathkeeping and bravery, things we value even today, if perhaps in different ways, and that would give my story purpose.

It was only after I had written my first draft that I realized I had created, in essence, a sermon for marauding Norsemen: an assessment of our current situation, the relating of ancient wisdom, and then connecting the lesson to that situation.


The Runepriest Tells of the Binding of Fenrir

Sons of Odin! Shieldmaidens of Freya! Vikings, all! At last the winter ice has broken, and tomorrow we board the longships to sail to the West, to raid and plunder, to show our worth to our chieftain, and our valour to the gods.

For some of you, this will be your first voyage. I have been on many, so believe me when I say that not all of us will be coming back.

Does this frighten you? It should not! The Norns weave our fates as they do those of the gods, so your fear gains you nothing, and you should be brave in the face of your destiny. You have have sworn oaths of loyalty to your brothers and sisters of the shield wall, and you must uphold them.

Our Jarl has asked me to tell you a story about fate, and bravery, and the cost of oaths – the tale of the binding of the great wolf Fenrir.

It is a woeful tale, so of course it begins with Loki. Loki, the trickster! Loki the changeling, Loki the perverse. Loki, who lay with the giantess Angrboda and fathered three monstrous children.

The first was the great serpent, Jormungandr, the second the she-creature Hel, and the last was the great wolf Fenrir. All of these were foretold to be the undoing of the gods, and to contribute to the chaos and unravelling of the world.

To stave off their fate, the gods threw Jormungandr from Asgard into the surrounding sea, where he wrapped himself around Midgard, our world, and on winter nights you can see his rippling scales in the night skies, glittering green and gold and scarlet.

Hel they cast out to Niflheim, a world of cold and mists. She dwells there even now, tending the souls of mortals who died unnotably, a straw death, and who cannot enter Valhalla.

The great wolf Fenrir they feared most of all, however, so they reared him in Asgard amongst the gods. During this time, only the god Tyr was brave enough to approach the wolf and to bring him food. Fenrir grew so rapidly though, that the gods began to fear him in earnest, so they formed a plan to restrain the wolf, to bind the scion of Loki and Angrboda, foretold to bring ruin to Asgard.

Seeing the gods approach with chains, Fenrir was canny, but the crafty gods appealed to his vanity,”We want only to test your strength, think of the fame that will come when others hear of it!”

Fenrir consented, and so the gods brought forth a sturdy chain called Leyding, and the wolf felt that his strength was greater than Leyding’s, so he agreed to being restrained, and allowed the gods to bind his legs.

Once he was fastened, Fenrir strained against his bonds and Leyding shattered into a hundred pieces! The gods all cheered and praised the wolf for his strength, and the great beast smiled, for wolves can be as vain as men.

The gods went away for a time and brought forth a second chain called Dromi. Dromi was twice as strong as Leyding, and Fenrir was apprehensive, but the gods egged him on, saying, “Your renown will be even greater once you break so mighty a chain as Dromi. And after all, the brave must be prepared to take risks if they are to become famous,” which made sense to Fenrir.

Again Fenrir allowed himself to be bound, and again the gods stood back to watch him struggle. He knocked the fetter against the ground, and straining his mighty muscles, burst Dromi asunder, the same as he had done with Leyding, and pieces of the chain showered the gods from afar.

Again the gods cheered and spoke approvingly of Fenrir’s great strength, but in their hearts they were afraid, as they knew not how to fashion a stronger chain than Dromi.

The god Frey sent his messenger Skirnir to Svartalfheim, the land of the dwarfs, to ask them to craft a binding for Fenrir that he could not burst. All the gods were surprised when Skirnir returned, not with a chain, but with a ribbon.

Skirnir explained: “The wily dwarfs had heard of Fenrir’s great strength, and thought it impossible to restrain him. So they had constructed this fetter, which they named Gleipner, from six impossible things:

The beard of a woman

The roots of a mountain

The long sinews of a bear

The breath of a fish

The spittle of a bird.

The sound of a cat’s footfall.”

The gods brought Gleipner to Fenrir, who was unimpressed with the slight ribbon, even when the strongest of the gods showed that they were incapable of tearing it. Fenrir said, “I would gain little fame from breaking so slight a thing as this. And if I could not free myself, I think you gods would have little reason to do so.”

The gods appealed to Fenrir’s logic, saying, “If you cannot break Gleipner, then your strength is not so much of a threat, so there would be no reason not to release you,” but Fenrir was unconvinced.

Into this stalemate strode Tyr; god of the law, god of heroic glory, and he said, “If I place my hand into your mouth as proof of our intent, will you agree to be bound?”


Now Fenrir truly was trapped; he could not refuse Tyr’s offer without having his courage called into question, which he would not do, for wolves can be as vain as men. And so Fenrir reluctantly agreed, and with Tyr’s hand in his mouth, the gods bound him with the silken cord, Gleipner.

Try as he might, as strong as he was, Fenrir was not able to break Gleipner; the more he struggled, the stronger his bonds became. Looking at the faces of the assembled Gods, he knew he had been fooled, and would not be released, and in anger and shame, he bit off Tyr’s hand.

Tyr made no effort to withdraw his hand, and wordlessly, he bound his wound while the other gods took Fenrir to a lonely and desolate place, to wait there until the time of Ragnarok, when the great wolf can play his part in the undoing of the gods, and the unmaking of the 9 worlds.

Some will tell you that the tale of the binding of Fenrir is about using the impossible to do the impossible, or of the perils of vanity, but I tell it to you for another reason: to remind you of the importance of oaths; for the reason for keeping one’s honour, even in the face of punishment.

Tyr knew that placing his hand in the wolf’s mouth could only end one way, but he did it regardless. Even the gods must live with the oaths they make, and the real price for the binding of Fenrir was not a dwarven chain, but the hand of Tyr.

Tyr’s missing hand is not a sign of weakness, as you might think, but a symbol of strength. Even amongst the gods, Tyr is a law giver, whose word is trusted, and whose surety is never second-guessed. If you place his mark, the Tiwaz, on your axe or sword, you mark yourself as one who keeps their oaths, and that rune may be what turns a battle in your favour.

Some of you might be afraid of what tomorrow’s voyage may bring, but I know that will not stop you. Tomorrow, like One-Handed Tyr himself, you will fulfill your oaths, to your kin, and your Jarl, and even to the gods, by following your brothers and sisters into battle.

And even if you should fall, you have still kept your oath, you will not be called a faithless one. If you are among the bravest, Odin will send his Valkyries to lift you from the battlefield and bring you to his hall, Valhalla, and perhaps you will meet Tyr, and he will tell you the truth of what I have said.

7-9 minutes is a long time to speak without notes, especially in a story where everything, even the chains used to bind the wolf, have their own names, but I made it through all right, and without going over time for once.

The speech was well received, although both the Toastmaster of the Day and my evaluator mentioned getting distracted at my mention of Loki, as both these ladies' thoughts floated to Tom Hiddleston's cinematic portrayal.

It turned out my evaluator is not only a fan of Norse mythology and the television show Vikings, but has always wanted to be one, and was thrilled by my framing element, and addressing my audience as though we were feasting in a smoky meadhall. I really wish I had managed to record my speech though, as she felt my inflection or accent was different before and after the tale, as opposed to when I was telling the story of Fenrir. I clarified with her afterwards:

Me: You thought I sounded different in the middle?

Jamie: Yeah, nothing really pronounced, but when you started speaking, I totally believed you were a viking, and talking to me, another viking, which was awesome. When you got into the actual story though, you sounded like Stephen again. Which was still good, it just sounded more familiar.

Me: And not as viking sounding.

Jamie: Not as much, no.

Me: (mildly disappointed) So, you're saying that I am not a viking?

Jamie: (palms up) I'm not saying anything like that.

Midway Comeuppance

I hesitated before sharing this video of my speech from the recent Toastmasters conference and Humorous Speech Contest I attended; I don't feel I am at my best in it, and I often find it hard to watch myself on video.

On the other hand though, I did enjoy competing, there isn't a whole lot I would change about the content, and I managed to get third place in a field of 12 really good speeches. This may also be the only way my Mum gets to see the speech (Hi Mum!), so I am throwing caution to the winds and posting it here.

Before viewing, I do hope you will let me provide a bit of context, however.

Like all Toastmasters events, the Humorous Speech Contest contains a degree of formality and regulation, especially when it comes to timing and judging. Your speech is expected to be 5-7 minutes in length, with entrants facing disqualification if their speech is shorter than 4:30 (which I have yet to see be a problem for anyone!) or longer than 7:30 (something I have been known to struggle with).

In our club at work we use coloured cards to signal timing to the speakers: green at 5:00, yellow at 6:00 and red at 7:00, but at the District level, a professional looking desktop light tower about 18" in height served that purpose, and they demonstrated it to us during the sound check. I don't need to tell you, it all felt very professional, but this did very little to calm my nerves!

Making people laugh is key to a successful humorous speech (duh), but laughter alone is not sufficient. You are expected to present a structured speech with an opening, body, and conclusion, not just a monologue. The judges' ballots break the evaluation down into content (55%), delivery (30%) and language (15%).

I am generally comfortable presenting, but the intensity of the competition made me a lot more nervous than I was anticipating, Being chosen first to speak out of twelve competitors made things a little more awkward, and it didn't help my disposition any that the otherwise excellent Toastmaster (emcee), struggled with the title of my speech, "Midway Comeuppance", despite having gone over it with me successfully at the sound check.

As I walked up to shake Don's hand, I spoke up to gently correct him, but then had a momentary panic, as the timers are supposed to start timing at the very first utterance or gesture. If the clock started before the introductory applause, there was a significant risk of running overtime and being disqualified. Driving to Saskatoon, I had run through my speech numerous times and the timing was usually around 7:10 or so, and as a result, I was very concerned about my time, despite the fact that in previous competitions the same speech had never run much more than 7:00.

With very little I could do to determine if the clock had started or not, I resolved very quickly to do my speech as I had rehearsed it, and then use the timing lights to correct it if needed.

Speaking too quickly in public is something I have struggled with much of my life, and my anxiety made it more difficult than usual to control my pace, although I still managed to get a couple of small pauses fitted in there. My voice was not only tightened by nervousness and anticipation, but I was also recovering from a cold I had picked up earlier that week.

Aside from that, I am fairly happy with how it went for my first ever District Speech Contest. I did leave out a couple of lines from my previous iterations, and finished well within regulation time. In fact, there wasn't a single disqualification due to time, which was a real relief to all the contestants!

Please note: the sound in the video is a little rough in places; there were 200+ people in a high-ceilinged room, and although we wore lapel mics, there really wasn't anyone available to monitor and change the levels. As a result, things sound somewhat muffled and echo-y, but still seem largely discernible, at least to me; your mileage may vary.

At any rate, if you have 7 minutes or so to spare, here is my third-place winning speech, "Midway Comeuppance".  I hope you get a chuckle or two out of it, and would love to know what you think of it, since I have every intention of competing again at some point.



As always with these sorts of things, honesty and gentleness go hand in glove!

Speaking Competitively

I've always liked speaking, both conversationally and with a more formal audience. Despite this though, I resisted joining Toastmasters for a long time, probably due in some part to the supposed need to differentiate myself from Dad, who was an active member for many years.

 

Having resigned myself to the notion a certain degree of fatherly imitation is both inevitable and laudable, I finally became a charter member of the club they founded three years ago at APS where I work, and even ended up coining the name we went with (ToastmAPSters).

 

Our first two years saw us finding our feet as a new, virtually all rookie club, and learning the ropes of public speaking and leadership through the manuals and projects provided by Toastmasters International, the umbrella organization. This year one of our executive is actually involved in both our club and another one that meets in the evening.

 

Cheryl's broadened perspective and active encouragement has seen our club slowly creeping out of the rather insular shell we have created for ourselves and interacting with other clubs and the larger network that connects them. For example, after one of Cheryl's club mates helped to judge our humorous speech contest, I went and served as a judge on theirs.

 

As I was congratulating the winner, an earnest and engaging fellow named Clint, Cheryl came over to confirm if we were both going to participate in the Area contest (as I had won the ToastmAPSters contest the week before). Clint and I looked at each other, shrugged and said, "Sure, why not?"

 

The Area 51 contest featured myself, Clint and two other speakers from clubs in southwest Edmonton, one of whom was a very capable public speaker despite still being in high school. This time three members from my club were helping out and another had come along to cheer me on, which was very encouraging. I had tweaked the speech I had used at the club level, using my recent experience as a judge to make it a bit more thematic and ballot-friendly, and emerged victorious for a second time.

 

This made me eligible to represent our Area at the Division level hosted in Devon in three weeks' time. Now, I am nowhere near the most competitive person in the world, but I found myself becoming very focused, adjusting my speech a little more and rehearsing it in the car on my way to work most days, using the dashboard timer to make sure I wasn't going too far over the 7-minute limit.

 

The Division H contest featured the stiffest competition yet: six speakers including myself, all of whom had won two previous contests to be there, as I had. Once again, three clubmates came out to help with timing and judging, and to cheer me on.

 

The speaking order is determined by random draw, and I can't recall if I was last or second last. Either way I got to watch most of the other speakers do their thing, and they all presented very well. Two in particular stood out for me, and I thought a bronze or silver against this grouping would still speak well of my efforts, but lo and behold, I won again, and was asked to represent Division H at the District 42 Finals, which encompasses all the clubs in Alberta and Saskatchewan.

 

In addition to facing off against the best 11 speakers from over 250 clubs, this development meant travelling to Saskatoon this past weekend for the District 42 Fall Conference. I guess my my last time in a hotel alone would have been back in 2007 when I worked for Games Workshop, and my last conference like this would have been with them as well.

 

The two organizations wouldn't appear to have a lot in common at first glance, but when you take a group of people who are passionate about their interests and put them in close quarters with shared meals for a period of time, perspectives are shared and connections are made. Even without the contest, I would have been glad to attend the conference.

 

 

At the contestant briefing on Friday night, I had the misfortune of drawing the very first speaker's slot. There are varying opinions about speaking order, and of course, they can vary based on the number of contestants; but no one likes to be first out of the gate, and I was concerned that after listening to speeches for two hours that mine would have difficulty distinguishing itself against the other eleven.

 

On the plus side, I got to get my speech out of the way early, and could then enjoy listening to the rest. The second speaker had a great story about an eccentric character he met while hitchhiking, a young lady spoke about being in the 4th grade with a symptom reference guide and diagnosing her discoloured hands as syphilis, while another one ranted about Toastmasters culture permeating her home life to very humorous effect.

 

Listening to highly accomplished speakers for a couple of hours was an enjoyable way to spend the afternoon, especially once I had delivered my speech to 200+ people without a time disqualification, passing out, or soiling myself. All the while though, I had to keep reassessing my chances, and by the time the final speaker wrapped up, I thought I would be fortunate just to get on the podium.

 

I had been happy enough with my material, although afterwards I thought it could have used greater laugh density, as some competitors got an audience response with nearly every line. My speech had a nice structure to it, I felt, and featured a couple of twists, but in all honesty, with me just getting over a cold, I think my delivery could have been better.

 

When they announced third place, I was pretty happy to hear my name called, and the hitchhiking story and 24/7 Toastmaster speeches took second and first place respectively. I got lots of compliments from people I had never met, many of whom were surprised to discover that this was my first time competing out of my own club.

 

The recognition and encouragement are hallmarks of the Toastmasters experience, and are the kinds of things likely to keep me in the club for a while, but the best thing to come of it actually happened at the Division contest in Devon.

 

I had waited for an opportunity to tell one of the other competitors how much I had enjoyed his speech, and to express my admiration for his stage presence. He smiled as he shook my hand and said, "You may be the most articulate person I have ever heard."

 

I was flabbergasted. "But...you're in Toastmasters..." I sputtered unbelievingly, but he was adamant, so I thanked him profusely and made my exit as gracefully as possible with a dangerously swollen head. No trophy or certificate could compete with that feeling.

 

I'm hoping my experiences on the contest trail and attendance at the District conference will encourage more members from my club to participate in area competitions and perhaps attend the spring convention in Red Deer, but in the meantime, I am busy trying to find the kernel for another humorous speech for next year.

 

 

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