Language (or Langue, or Sprache, or لغة, or språk...)

Language is difficult.

It has been a few years, but I have had multiple semesters of Spanish classes. If I had to carry a conversation in Spanish right now the conversation would contain a lot of counting.

I finished with A’s in my Greek classes. At one point I could recite the first three chapters of Romans to you in Greek. Give me two verses of Koine to translate today and I will go running to my books trying in vain to even remember the order of the alphabet.

Hebrew has been, and remains, my academic nemesis. I’ve taken the preliminary course twice and dropped the beginner’s course twice.

I tried to teach myself German once. I made some headway, but at this point all I can remember is that “fahrtwind” has something to do with tavel or buses. And that is because I couldn’t stop laughing as a 16 year old after reading the sign at the stinky bus stop in Hannover. Fahrtwind.

This week I have had the last track from the Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack stuck in my head. I try to sing it, but I end up sounding like this kid but not nearly as adorable. The song sounds real cool, but I don’t know the words. They say “jai ho” a lot. I’m not sure what that means, but I think that “ho” is the third person singular for “to be.” At one point of the song there is, I think, a little Spanish. I know I heard a “Salud” in there.

This post by my friend Rachel is quite funny: online-translation-of-cooking-instructions-for-my-black-beans.

Language is beautiful.

Words can move you. Move within you to stir up emotion. Move within you to make you think. Move within you to propel you into action.

It is not even necessary to know what the words mean. Words can be powerful and beautiful even if their referents are unknown. Add music and their power is increased. What is music after all? Sound. It is sound without a specific referent, but sound that still contains a certain power. Music can cut to your soul. If I ever meet someone that does not find pleasure in any sort of music, I will most certainly pity the person.

I have no idea what Feist is saying in her cover of “Tout Doucement.” But I love the sound of her voice as she sings the words “la vie c'est épatant.”

Have you ever heard a church service in Latin? Did the words strike you as holy? Did the foreign sounds strike you as something old and sacred?

People can imitate accents because there are certain things that characterize the sounds of a language. Perhaps the sounds of the language come off of the edge of the lips. Perhaps the sound comes more out of the bottom of the mouth. Or maybe the language is more in the throat.

Language, it is so beautiful.

In English, I have so many options. I do not have to just say “timber.” I can also say “lumber.” They are not exactly the same. They have the same referent, but they are different in their form. They each have a different sound and that is for a reason. Language is not simple or confined. It is rich with all sorts of delights to be found within it.

I can look at the sky and thank the Lord for the heavens. Or perhaps I might want to thank Him for the firmament. Or maybe the wide blue yonder. Or the atmosphere. Or up there. I do not have to just thank Him for the sky. But my brother beside me can thank Him for the “cielo.” And another looks to the himmel.

I like to hear words. To say words. And to look at words. They are a gift.

Language is a gift from God. It is something that points us to Him. Words are beautiful because the Word is beautiful.

The essence of a word is true because the One who is the Word is true.

But not everything about language is delightful. It is difficult to learn a foreign language. I have not met my Hebrew requirements for school yet. I have friends on the mission field who struggle daily with communicating the Gospel because of a struggle with language.

The story of the Tower of Babel found in Genesis 11 is an odd story. The people of the earth were attempting to build a city that would extend into the heavens. It is a lofty dream and ideal: a city so grand that it would be a part of the city of God. A city so glorious that its reach extended into the starry realm above. They had brick for stone and bitumen for mortar.

YHWH came down to see the city and He said, “Behold they are one people, and they have all one language, and this is only the beginning of what they will do. And nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them. Come, let us go down and confuse their language, so that they may not understand one another’s speech.”

This part of the story baffles me. I get the part about building the city that reaches into heaven. It sounds good. I even get the idea that man was trying to do something that is going to be accomplished in Christ. These people were trying to build a city. They did not have the understanding that the splendid vision of a unity between the city of man and the city of God is the result of Christ’s redeeming work. However, the city of man will not reach up into the heavens to touch God in His dwelling place. Rather, the city of God will come down and be joined together with a new earth and the people will say “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man” (Revelation 21:3). I get that this is all to happen in Revelation 21 and not in Genesis 11.

But I am baffled by the idea that nothing would be impossible for man were it not for the confusion of language. I mean, I can think of a lot of other things that seem to be keeping us from building a city that reaches to the heavens. Do we really have the money? Or the necessary knowledge to engineer such a thing? I don’t really even know where heaven is, much less how to build a city to it. I love looking at the Hubble images of space. I think the images are telling of the glory of God, but I have not noticed a celestial city out there.

I believe language is powerful, but it is difficult to see how a unified language would enable us to do things that I consider impossible.

And still yet, I am even further baffled by the story. Language came from God in the Garden of Eden. I suppose it is a part of being made in the image of God. He speaks, so we speak. The multiplicity of languages seems to be the result of His desire to confuse man in Genesis 11. And certainly, it is confusing. But I am baffled that even this act of confusing man and preventing him from making a terrible mistake contains so much beauty and grace. As maddening as they can be, a part of me loves the multiplicity of languages.

Move along in the story of redemption and you get to Pentecost. Pentecost is the day that the Spirit of Christ was poured out on the sons of God in a new and exciting way. Among a great many other things that happened on the day of Pentecost, the redemption of Christ is applied to the confusion of languages. But oh man! It is such a glorious redemption! It does not abolish the different languages. No, instead it abolishes the confusion! What a glorious surprise! It is so unexpected. The Lord did not reverse Genesis 11. He redeemed it.

“We hear them telling in our own tongues the mighty works of God” (Acts 2:11).

Go further along in the story of redemption and it gets even better. When John sees visions of glory, he sees people of every tongue gathered around the throne of God. He sees a great many people.

People from all languages crying out with one voice saying, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!”

Language is beautiful. For now, language is also difficult. But this will not always be the case. There is a coming day when we will experience the glories of language in its entirety. It is a day in which all languages, with all of their beauty and nuances, will be spoken and heard. It is the day of our Lord.

But that day is not yet. That day will come at the right moment. For now though, it is our responsibility to carry forward the message of the Word. It is a beautiful message of redemption. A message preached with words so beautiful that Isaiah, that prophet of old, once exclaimed that the beauty of the message found in those words would make even the feet of those who carry it beautiful (Isaiah 52:7; Romans 10:15).

St. Patrick's Confession

I have just finished reading Confession by St. Patrick. It is a letter that outlines his life and what the Lord had done in and through him. Below are a few quotes that moved me:

"I am Patrick, a sinner, the most unsophisticated and unworthy among all the faithful of God."

"Because of this I cannot, I will not, be silent. I will tell of the great blessings God has granted to me and the grace he has shown to me in this land of slavery. Because this is the way we should behave toward God - when he has shown us why we were wrong and we have admitted our sins, we should praise him and proclaim his kindness to everyone in the world."

"I know if that [death] were to happen, I would gain my soul along with a new body on that day we will undoubtedly rise again like the sun in the morning - like the son Jesus Christ our redeemer. We will become like children of the living God, brothers and sisters of Jesus, so that by him, through him, and in him, we will be like kings."

"I have thought about writing this letter for a long time, but I kept putting it off until now. I have been afraid that people would laugh at the way I write... I am very ashamed and afraid to show just how awkward my writing is. I am not able to explain things in just a few words like those who can write briefly. My mind and my spirit cannot even work together so that my words say what I really feel inside."

Un-Christlike Christian Outrage...

Here is a link to a great post about misplaced Christian outrage.

It is by Russell Moore, a man that has had a profound impact on my life. Give it a quick look when you get the chance.

He has a number of other articles and resources at www.russellmoore.com.

Day to day pours out speech (or Have You Seen and Heard the Frozen Mud?)

It has been cold when I walk to work in the morning. A lot of the time I can catch a ride with one of my coworkers as they pass my place on their way to the office. But that doesn’t always happen.

When I leave my place in the morning I am always sure to walk to the patch of dirt behind my Jeep on my way to the office. Lately, that patch of dirt is actually mud when the temperature is above freezing. In the morning the mud is frozen.

The frozen mud makes the most beautiful crystals and designs. As the water freezes, it expands and pushes the dirt upward. The crystal formations are dotted with holes from stones that cannot keep up with the swelling mud around them.

Not only is the mud beautiful, but it also makes the most satisfying crunch when I step on it. From the moment I step out my door I get excited to step on the mud crystals as I close my eyes and listen to the sound of them under my feet. It’s fantastic.

“There is no speech, nor are there words, whose voice is not heard.”

He walks with me, and He talks with me...

" On the third day the friends of Christ coming at day-break to the place found the grave empty and the stone rolled away. In varying ways they realised the new wonder; but even they hardly realised that the world had died in the night. What they were looking at was the first day of a new creation, with a new heaven and a new earth; and in a semblance of the gardner God walked again in the garden, in the cool not of the evening but the dawn.”

G.K. Chesterton in The Everlasting Man*

* This really is one of my favorite books. Not only does it have cool spellings of words that replace the letter "z" with the letter "s" (or perhaps we replace the "s" with a "z"), but it also makes a delightful argument for why all of history centers around Christ and His New Creation. You should read it if you get the chance. If you are pressed for time, just read the Conclusion in the back.

There is a lot of snow melting outside right now. It is kind of like it is raining on the ground but not in the sky.


http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2008282&id=176300377&l=4ee8a3aa8a

The New Year (or Here's to Hope)

The whole world over people celebrated the arrival of a new year. It would seem to me that all of humanity is yearning for a better future and a better life. All the while making resolutions which acknowledge shortcomings and failures.

For one night a year the masses, in a unified voice, hope for a better world. Hope for redemption.

Year after year the hope remains.

He is coming.

“In a telescope lens, and when all you want is friends” (Or, I Miss You)

I.
“My God, My God! Why have you forsaken me?”

I cannot imagine the hell it must be to be separated from God. Christ experienced it on the cross so that I do not have to, but I cannot comprehend the agony that must have been in that moment as Jesus screamed from the cross.

II.
“Absence makes the heart grow weathered, but fonder still.”
– Copeland

Missing a person is a curious thing. You can miss a person for a lot of reasons. Perhaps they have died. Or maybe you no longer live near them. Maybe something has altered your relationship – a breakup, a division, a betrayal. Or maybe, the busyness of life has caused the separation.

I miss you.

What does that really mean? We all instinctively know what is intended by the phrase. But it is not so easy for me to describe its meaning. It feels bad. Yet, it is attached to good feelings. Or, at least, good memories.

I think that if I miss someone it reveals some things.

Affection and fondness.

Delight in that person’s company.

A sense of attachment. An attachment that is very particular and specific.

A dislike of separation.

A dislike for my lack of sovereignty.


Missing someone betrays our desire for significant relationships. We like to live out life with people. Really, we like to live out life with certain people.

What is the proper response to missing someone? I struggle to figure it out. In some cases, depending on why I miss the person, I can remedy the situation with a little action. A phone call. A letter. A visit. A trip.

In other cases, there does not seem to be any steps to be taken. You just miss a person and know you cannot do anything about it. Perhaps time seems to numb the feeling. However, as soon as you think it is past, a scent or a scene or a song can bring the emotion rushing back with the flood of memories.


III.
I once heard Peter Kreeft talk about a baby in the womb. The baby has no idea what is coming. He does not know what the world outside holds. If the baby were to examine some things about himself, he would probably be kind of confused. Why a mouth and nose? They do not seem to be necessary. Legs? What purpose could they possibly serve?

There are things that are a part of a baby’s life in the womb that do not seem to make much sense for life in the womb. But they point to the life to come.

Kreeft was answering a question about suffering.


IV.
“Unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.”


V.
There is love in missing.

God is love and we are made in His image. Made for close relationships. Made to love and be loved.

In the Trinity I see affection and fondness. I see delight and pleasure in community. I see a sense, no, a real, no, the most real attachment. No separation. No lack of sovereignty.


VI.
“Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?”
Holy wonder.


VII.
It fascinates me to miss someone. There is so much to be learned in it. The story of the world can be found in that one feeling.

I would not love were it not for a gracious Creator that made me to be in relationship with others.

I would not ache were it not for separation. A separation caused by sin. Whether death, conflict, or geography has caused the separation, it is a separation caused by the sin of our father Adam. And it is a separation caused by my sin

I could not hope for a restoration apart from the cross of Christ. As terrible as the feeling of missing someone feels, I will be eternally grateful to not have to experience separation from the Father. I am grateful for a Redeemer who is killing my sin.

I can look forward to the day when there is no opportunity to miss a person. No more separation. Just eternal glory.

Creation. Fall. Redemption. New Creation.


VIII.
And Jonathan made David swear again by his love for him, for he loved him as he loved his own soul. Then Jonathan said to him, “Tomorrow is the new moon, and you will be missed, because your seat will be empty.” 1 Samuel 20:17-18

A Christmas Post

"He has been manifested in a human body for this reason only, out of the love and goodness of His Father, for the salvation of us men... it was our sorry case that caused the Word to come down, our transgression that called out His love for us, so that He made haste to help us and to appear among us."

Athanasius in On the Incarnation (probably my favorite 4th century bishop of Alexandria)

A Worthwhile Examination of Modern Friendship

I read an article today that I believe is worth passing along.

It is about friendship and the way it has changed.

William Deresiewicz writes, “The idea of friendship in ancient times could not have been more different. Achilles and Patroclus, David and Jonathan, Virgil's Nisus and Euryalus: Far from being ordinary and universal, friendship, for the ancients, was rare, precious, and hard-won.”

At one point, Deresiewicz traces part of the problem to the rise of Christianity. I understand his argument, though I think he is a bit off. Rather than the rise of Christianity being the issue, I am more inclined to think that the problem is that many Christians have missed the biblical emphasis on good friendships.

Scripture sees friendship as a gift from God. David could even exclaim that he found all his delight in other people (Psalm 16:3).

While I think Deresiewicz is slightly off at times, I think his article was spot on in its purpose. Take the time to read it. Take some time to reflect on it.

It just might make you rethink some things in your life. I know that it had that effect on me.

The article is found here. If you start it, I think you will finish it.

"Mother, Zeus may have done all this for me,

But how can I rejoice? My friend is dead,

Patroclus, my dearest friend of all. I loved him...

But I'm going now to find the man who destroyed

My beloved."

Achilles in Homer's Iliad