Bureaucratic Circus

For the best part of the last two weeks, I have spent every weekday morning at one bureaucratic office or other on the infamous quest for the Italian ‘permesso di soggiorno’ - a permit to stay in Italy required of every foreigner who wants to stay for more than 3 months.

Queue of immigrants outside a Questura office (image from here)

I won’t go into all the gory details in this post - the process is still ongoing! When I finally have the permesso in my hot little hand I hope to write something that may be of use to other people like me - Australians married to European citizens who want or need to live in Florence for more than three months.

The relevance of my experience to anyone beyond that narrow designation is questionable at best, because I have heard that every city has a slightly different process you have to go through. It also makes a difference being married to a European citizen (I’m not yet convinced it makes the process much easier) and which non-European country you come from (the kinds of documents you get there and what the system is like).

Inside a Questura office- the one I went to in Florence looks more dingy than this, though! (Image from here)

I have been reading in Genesis where God spoke to Abraham (then Abram) and told him to leave his country, his people and his father’s household and go to the land that God would show him. That land happened to be the ancient land of Canaan.

The other day my husband and I were discussing this complicated process and the seemingly ridiculous documents we have been asked to produce. We reflected on how in days gone by people didn’t have to go through this kind of process, and we thought of Abraham and others in the Bible who had to go to a different country to live. It made me imagine what might have happened if Abraham had had to deal with Italy’s (or probably most countries’) immigration system, assuming Abraham had identification documents...

Canaan Immigration Officer: Signore, Signora, can I see your passports?
Abraham: Here they are.
CIO: Your passports only give your names as ‘Abraham’ and ‘Sarah’. Do you have a marriage certificate to show that you are married.
Abraham: Certainly. Here-
CIO: Hmmm... This says your names are ‘Abram’ and ‘Sarai’. Do you have a document that certifies your name change? I need to verify that you are the same people as on the marriage certificate?
Abraham: Um, no...
CIO: Under what circumstances did you change your names?
Abraham: God gave us new names.
CIO: Hmmm.... Well, that doest appear to be on this list of valid reasons for name change. I’m afraid I can’t process your request. You will have to go back to your home country and get all the necessary documentation, and then come back and try again.
Abraham: But I’m 75 years old and we’ve walked all the way here from Haran with everything we own.
CIO: I’m sorry, sir. There’s nothing I can do. You have to supply the appropriate paperwork.

Now of course, God himself could have come down with the name change certificates and waved them in the officer’s face, but he sometimes chooses not to act immediately in order to teach us perseverance and patience (James 1:2-4). This is what we have been learning.

Reflections on a patron saint

On Tuesday 24th June, Florence celebrated a public holiday for the ‘Feast of St John the Baptist’ (San Giovanni Battista). According to this link, John the Baptist has been the patron saint of Florence since sometime during the 6-8th centuries. Before Florence became ‘Christian’, they had upheld Mars, the Roman god of war, as the city’s protector.

I wondered about the point of a patron saint - spiritual guru? protector? model for living? [See also my post on saints from a few years ago.] Reflecting on the third possibility, it’s not hard to spot some marked contrasts between the life of John the Baptist (JtB) as presented in the gospel accounts and the character of modern Florence, Florentines, and the feast day celebrating their patron saint.

The San Giovanni Battista Baptistry in Piazza del Duomo, Florence

1) JtB hung around in the wilderness (Matthew 3:1, Mark 1:4, Luke 1:80) and wore clothes made of camel’s hair (Matthew 3:4, Mark 1:6). He was hardly the kind of urban, fashion-conscious guy that Florentines seem to value so highly. He did wear a leather belt around his waist, though...

2) JtB ate locusts and wild honey (Matthew 3:4, Mark 1:6) and was not allowed to drink alcohol (Luke 1:15). This would be anathema to Florentines, who love drinking their aperitivi in the piazzas on summer evenings (who could blame them?!), not to mention the excellent local chianti wines with lunch and dinner, and seem fairly committed to eating delicious Italian food. I don’t get the impression that they are very adventurous when it comes to eating other cuisines (if you could call locusts and wild honey ‘cuisine’!).

3) JtB was constantly on about repentance. He told people to ‘repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near’ (Matthew 3:2) and ‘produce fruit in keeping with repentance’ (Matthew 3:8, Luke 3:8). He also urged people to be baptised (a service he provided himself, hence the name) as a sign that they repented of their sins, so that they could be forgiven (Mark 1:4, Luke 3:3).

In most places I’ve lived, repentance is far from people’s minds (what on earth would I have to repent from? I’m a good enough person, aren’t I?). In Florence, those of the older generations whose lives are still heavily influenced by the Catholic Church are probably more aware of the fact of sin and the way it separates us from God. But they have been told (contrary to the gospel) that they can do penance and achieve forgiveness that way. Among the younger generation, I think it’s more like the case in Australia, but perhaps with more acknowledgement of ‘a God out there somewhere'.

4) JtB was not at all interested in his own fame, but kept telling people someone greater and more powerful was coming after him (Matthew 3:11, Mark 1:7, Luke 3:16, John 1:27). (I think the impressive 35-minute fireworks display on Tuesday night in San Giovanni’s honour would have embarrassed this humble man.) The person coming after him was going to baptise people also, and not just with water but (eminently more impressive) with the Holy Spirit and with fire (Matthew 3:11, Mark 1:8). And he was going to somehow bring judgement also (Matthew 3:12, Luke 3:17).

But this was considered good news (Luke 3:18), probably because the one who did come after John was Jesus. When John saw him, he said ‘Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!’ (John 1:29), and later testified that Jesus was ‘God’s Chosen One’ (John 1:34).

May the people of Florence honour their patron saint by listening to his words and considering his call to repent and seek forgiveness, especially now that the one who can take (and now has taken) away sins - Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God - has come.

San Giovanni Battista fireworks over the Ponte Vecchio in Florence

Reflections of a language nerd

It's been a while since I formally learnt another language. In fact it was 11 years ago that I studied Latin in my third year of university. Opto, optas, optat, optamus, optatis, optant, and all that.

Now I'm studying Greek - the Greek used in the New Testament - as part of a theological degree. I wasn't sure how I'd go learning Greek, after all I'm 10 years older than I was last time I had to study language and do tests and exams. I've learnt bits of other languages since then (Dutch, Swahili, Luganda) but only piecemeal and through immersion, which is a different kind of learning.

So I've been pleasantly surprised that it's all coming back to me - learning paradigms and vocabulary, and translating sentences that don't always seem to make much sense. Thankfully, many of the grammatical concepts I learnt in Latin (such as noun declensions, noun cases and verb paradigms) carry over into Greek, so I didn't have to start cold as some of my classmates did. Of course, being a linguist doesn't hurt either! Now that we are learning more vocab and more structures, the sentences we have to translate start to be more meaningful and some are even recognisable as particular verses from the Bible.

My understanding of Greek, which is so far limited but growing, is also opening up to me new perspectives on translation of the Bible. I'm very thankful for the hundreds, if not thousands, of years of scholarship on biblical Greek and the careful translation work that has been done over past centuries to give us very good and meaningful translations of the Bible in English as well as many other languages.

The translations we have in English are really very transparent, with any uncertainties or ambiguities footnoted in most versions. So there need be no concern about the reliability of the translation. It is not to be taken for granted that we have the word of God, the Author of Life itself, in a form ordinary people can read and understand for themselves. This is especially so when there are still hundreds of languages around the world that have no translation of the Bible yet. Maybe something I can help with in the future...

Is the family history?

I recently read an article that made me quite sad about the explicit untruths and inaccuracies that are allowed to be published in reputable publications. It was an opinion piece in the Sydney Morning Herald written by Guardian columnist George Monbiot, in which he claimed that those who advocate heterosexual marriage have fabricated a history of the family as a heterosexual institution.

Rather than go on for ages about all the things that bothered me about the article, I’ll just focus on one, the following paragraph:

The unbiblical and ahistorical nature of the modern Christian cult of the nuclear family is a marvel to behold. Its promoters are followers of a man born out of wedlock and allegedly sired by someone other than his mother's partner. Jesus insisted that ''if any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters … he cannot be my disciple''. He issued no such injunction against homosexuality: the threat he perceived was heterosexual and familial love, which competed with the love of God.

There are some truths in this passage that mask the untruths and inaccuracies of his interpretation of the Bible. I think it’s true that the modern 'nuclear family’ (mother, father and biological children living together) is not itself a Biblically mandated institution. Rather, it is a cultural manifestation of the Biblical principles of lifelong monogamy (Gen 2:23-24, Ex 19:14, Mt 5:31-32), multiplication (Gen 1:26-28), and passing on the knowledge of God and His promises and commands to the next generation (Gen 12:1-3, 17:7, Deut 6:1-9). We must be careful to separate out what is merely cultural from what is necessarily Christian. Sometimes they work together, but often they do not. In the case of the nuclear family, it’s a cultural phenomenon that seems compatible with the Biblical principles. Living in community with other families or generations of an extended family could also work, and in fact the descriptions of the early church in Acts suggest this kind of arrangement (e.g. Acts 2:42-47).

The Bible passage Monbiot refers to here is Luke 14:25-26. In the passage immediately before this (Luke 14:15-24), Jesus had been talking to people at a dinner party at the home of the ruler of the Pharisees, telling a parable of a rich man who gave a great banquet and invited all his friends but when the time for the banquet came, they all sent their apologies because they had work to do, or economic concerns to act on, or family to attend to. So the man had to find other guests among the poor and homeless - those whom respectable people wouldn’t normally invite to a banquet - to fill the house for the banquet. There should be nothing to distract them, and even if there was, they would recognise the value of the offer and accept it.

In the passage in question (Luke 14:25-26), the scene changes to Jesus speaking to the enormous crowds that were accompanying him. But I think Luke wants us to make the connection with the previous passage, as the point is the same. Jesus extends an invitation to everyone, including those who have all kinds of potential distractions, and we must count the cost of accepting his generous and valuable offer.

As Jesus says elsewhere (Mt 6:24), you cannot serve two masters - we either serve Jesus as King, or our family, or our job, or whatever. The same underlying principle was inherent in the command given to God’s people at the revelation of his commandments at Mount Sinai (Deut 6:4-5) - "you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength". We are to be undivided. But we are also to love our neighbours (including our family as well as complete strangers) as ourselves, and so Jesus’ challenge to ‘hate’ our own parents and siblings does not absolve us of family responsibility. Our family responsibility rather becomes part of the way we love and serve God and obey his commands.

While it’s true that Jesus did not issue any direct injunction against homosexuality, it’s grossly misleading to say that Jesus perceived 'heterosexual love’ as a ‘threat’. In the passage Monbiot quotes, Jesus was merely warning his would-be disciples that following him would mean they could not let their family get in the way of their allegiance to Jesus and obedience to God. On the contrary, Jesus explicitly condoned faithful heterosexual marriage, as on several occasions he spoke strongly against adultery and sexual immorality. He had hard words to say to the Samaritan woman he met at a well (John 4:1-30), who had been married five times and was now sleeping with someone other than her husband. To the woman caught in adultery in John 8, Jesus said ‘from now on sin no more’. He wanted (and still wants) people to live God’s way, the way they were created for, walking in the light rather than in darkness (John 8:12).

The power of words

"Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me". From childhood we are encouraged to dismiss the power of words to affect us. But how much power can words really have?

As a linguist, I'm a big fan of words and how they fit together to allow us to make meaning. I think there is a great deal of power in words and language, for good or ill. Indeed, there are some sub-fields of Linguistics - I'm thinking of Critical Discourse Analysis and Positive Discourse Analysis - that have sprung up with the aim of deconstructing, respectively, discourse that embodies "ideologically driven discrimination, with respect to gender, ethnicity, class and related social variables" (Martin 2006) and discourse that "functions to make the world a better place" (Martin 2006). The very existence of these trends of linguistic application assumes that language has the power to harm or improve society, and perhaps even individual lives.


I was thinking about this because the 'mid year conference' at UNSW, where I'm doing some ministry work with staff and postgrad students, is on the topic of 'Beyond Words', focusing on what happens when Christians read the Bible:

4000 years ago, Moses encountered God on Mt Sinai. It was beyond words. The storm raged, the lightning struck and the fire and smoke poured out of heaven. Today, Christians read a slightly beaten up paperback book over breakfast and claim to be meeting God. 

Aren't we missing something? Why doesn't God speak directly to me? Should I expect a still small voice or something more? 

 You can watch one of the video ads for the conference on Youtube - it highlights the fact that many forms of everyday language can have a significant impact on our lives. It also prompts us to wonder why Christians don't often register the same kind of impact when we read the Bible, which we believe to be the words of the Living God!


The Bible tells me that I should love it and delight in it (Psalm 119), store it up in my heart (Psalm 119:11), meditate on it (Psalm 119:148), and even value it above money (Psalm 119:72) and food (Matthew 4:1-4)! God promises that if I read His Word with sincerity and obedience, and with Him working in me by His Spirit, the words of scripture will give me life and blessing (James 1:25), guide my decisions (Psalm 119:105), and turn me from doing things that displease God (Psalm 119:11).


Furthermore, the gospel - the story that Jesus Christ, the Song of God, dies for the sin of the world and was raised again to rule the world - has the power to save those who believe it! "For I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes: first to the Jew, then to the Gentile.” (Romans 1:16). That’s some truly powerful words!


References:
Martin, J. R. (2006). Positive Discourse Analysis: Power, Solidarity and Change, Journal of English Studies, 4(14), 21-35.

I speak, therefore I think, therefore I am?

Recently I became aware of the work of Walker Percy (1916-1990), an American writer who had an interest in human behaviour, in particular the peculiar ability of humans to use language. He wrote a number of novels between the 1961 and 1987, one of which I’ve read – The Thanatos Syndrome (1987), which is an interesting but at times disturbing read – and a few non-fiction ruminations on humankind, language, and the like, including one I am reading now. The one I’m reading now has the rather long and intriguing title: The Message in the Bottle: How Queer Man Is, How Queer Language Is, and What One Has to Do with the Other (1975).

I came across Walker Percy by accident. I had been searching for papers about language and consciousness, and one of the ones that came up was an old (1993) but interesting article in the journal Language and Communication by Laura Mooneyham, who compared and contrasted the ideas of Percy and a psychologist of the same period, Julian Jaynes.

Like much of the biographical information I’ve seen about Percy (e.g. the entry on Wikipedia as a start), Mooneyham draws attention to Percy’s Catholicism, crediting this as a major influence on his ideas about humans and their unique capability for language and higher order consciousness (incorporating self-awareness and the ability to communicate with others through symbols). His search for a metaphysical explanation of events (that is, explaining phenomena from first principles, which include time, substance and existence) is contrasted with Jaynes’ materialistic explanation (that is, explaining phenomena only as the result of interactions of physical matter). Percy's dissatisfaction with such materialistic explanations is nicely captured in a question he poses (one of many presented one after the other over several pages!) in the opening chapter of The Message in the Bottle:

“Why is it that scientists know a good deal about what it is to be an organism in an environment but very little about what it is to be a creature who names things and utters and understands sentences about things?” (1975, p.8).

One of the main ideas discussed in Mooneyham’s paper is the distinction between primary consciousness (which animals have; 'bicamerality' in Jaynes' terms) and higher order consciousness (which humans have), and the notion that humans once had only this primary consciousness. The theory is that higher order consciousness came with the ability for complex, autonomous language (see also Halliday 2004 for a similar argument from systemic functional linguistics).

I was intrigued to learn that both Percy and Jaynes had drawn parallels between the Fall of Man and the shift from primary to higher-order consciousness in humans. The idea here was that for a time, humans were living in such a way that all their responses to external stimuli were dictated by God/gods (according to the various creation/fall narratives). They “could neither reflect upon their past nor future actions nor upon the possible consequences of those actions; therefore, they were without the moral consciousness which makes guilt possible” (Mooneyham, 1993, p.176). But then the ‘Fall’ happened (they tasted ‘the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil’) and there was a shift, and their minds became capable of introspection and seeing how others saw them, so they felt guilt and shame.

 I'm still working out my views on how to read the story of Creation presented in Genesis in light of theories of human development, but there are some principles in the Genesis account, particularly about God's character, that are reiterated throughout the Biblical account and therefore can be trusted regardless of whether one takes the '6 day' narrative literally or figuratively.

One such principle is that humans were created in God’s image (Genesis 1:26-27). So I find it hard to accept this conception of the development of human consciousness because the Bible is consistent on the notion that God Himself has higher-order consciousness and the ability to communicate with others (see also related blog posts I wrote in August and October).

Another such principle is that God is inherently good and can't abide evil. The idea that humans went from being “neither good nor evil” in their state of primary consciousness to capable of both good and evil in their higher-order consciousness denies the pronouncement of God on the 6^th day, when he had created humans, that his creation was ‘very good’. God is good, and would not have been able to make this declaration if humans had not been ‘good’ from the beginning (at least until the Fall), not ‘neutral’ as supposed.

I welcome comments or clarifying questions on any of these thoughts.

References

Halliday, M. A. K. (2004). On Grammar as the Driving Force from Primary to Higher-order Consciousness. In G. Williams & A. Lukin (Eds). The Development of Language: Functional Perspectives on Species and Individuals, pp.15-44. London: Continuum.

Mooneyham, L. (1993). The Origin of Consciousness, Gains and Losses: Walker Percy vs Julian Jaynes. Language & Communication, 13(3), 169-182.

Percy, W. (1975). The Message in the Bottle: How Queer Man Is, How Queer Language Is, and What One Has to Do with the Other. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

Should we use 'youse'?

If you’re anything like me, when you read the Bible you can’t help but notice those little superscript letters and you can’t help but glance down to the footnotes to see what the translators wanted to say about that word or phrase. It can be a bit annoying, and it disrupts the flow of reading. There are a few recurring ones – ‘brothers’ is usually clarified as meaning ‘brothers and sisters’ (and in fact the most recent edition of the NIV has gone back to using the whole phrase ‘brothers and sisters’); weights, measurements, currencies, and times of day are converted for us; and where a proper noun has been used for clarification, the original pronoun is given to us, e.g. where they have inserted ‘Jesus’ instead of just ‘he’. But the one that really gets me is ‘you’ vs. ‘you plural’, and so I want to argue that English needs a second person plural pronoun that has a different form from the singular.

As you know, some varieties of English do have a plural second person pronoun, ‘youse’. Wiktionary, that source of all knowledge, claims that the use of ‘youse’ as a plural form of the second person pronoun ‘is found in Australia, England, Scotland, Northern Ireland, New Zealand, South Africa, parts of the northern United States, and parts of Ontario’. That means it is used fairly widely in those countries where English is spoken as a mother tongue by large numbers of people. As a linguist, I don’t want to criticise that usage but actually say that they’re onto a good thing - and I'm not the only one: Ruth Wajnryb wrote a column in the Sydney Morning Herald a few years ago in support of 'youse'. It’s really a pretty useful word. And logically, it makes sense. In English, all the other pronouns have a singular and plural form – first person pronoun ‘I’ has the plural ‘we’, third person pronouns ‘he/she/it’ have the plural ‘they’, and even demonstrative pronouns ‘this’ and ‘that’ have the plurals ‘these’ and ‘those’. But poor old ‘you’ misses out.

And so we get passages in the Bible like Luke 22:31-32, which reads (in the ESV) ³¹"Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, ³²but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers." But actually it means this: ³¹"Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have youse, that he might sift youse like wheat, ³²but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers." So you can see that having two different forms for singular and plural would really help make the meaning clear, and would also make for less disrupted reading as there wouldn’t need to be a superscript number temping us to look down at the footnotes mid-sentence.

Of course, the use of ‘youse’ is typically reserved for spoken English (or spoken-like English, as in the case of much of the language used in computer mediated communication such as chats, microblogging, etc). Even if the use of ‘youse’ takes off in more mainstream spoken English, I imagine it would be a very long time before it became acceptable in written English, especially in formal and academic registers. But the point remains: that it would be very useful to have a differentiated form of the plural second person in both spoken and written forms. And so I would like to say: ‘Youse should consider using ‘youse’!’

[Adapted from a 3-minute ‘Persuade Me’ talk I did at a ministry training session, October 2011.]

The origins of language (1)

Oops! Another unintended hiatus! Now that I have changed to Monday as my thinking/blogging day it is under peril of long weekends and other distractions. For the last two weeks I’ve been playing tour guide to my parents-in-law-to-be who were visiting from The Netherlands. The weather was less than spectacular but thankfully they still had a wonderful time seeing the mountains, the coast, some native birds and plants (including lots of flowers, which are all out at this time of year), and most of all being part of engagement celebrations.

In other news I’ve been doing some reading about the development of language. A few years ago some colleagues in linguistics put together a very thought-provoking book about the development of language (in both humans generally and in individuals) from a functional perspective (i.e. a perspective in which language is used to make meanings in particular functions). So far I’ve read the first two chapters – an introduction by the editors, Annabelle Lukin (one of my PhD supervisors) and Geoff Williams, and a chapter by Michael Halliday, who is considered the father (grandfather?) of functional linguistics.

On the first page, the editors put forward the claim that “language has evolved under the pressure to ‘mean’” (Lukin & Williams, 2004:1). I’d like to explore this idea of ‘pressure’ a little. ‘Pressure’ in other contexts is used to refer to a demanding situation or burdensome condition that means the person or phenomenon in that situation or condition must change or act in a particular way or under particular constraints. We can usually recognise where the pressure comes from – our boss, a client, our parents, a heavy backpack, too much bodyweight, water building up behind a blockage in the plumbing, etc.

In this case, the use of the noun ‘pressure’ obscures the fact that something must cause or create the pressure, and also doesn’t make clear what the pressure is actually exerted on (humans? Or language? Or the process of development?). According to the authors, the nature of the pressure seems to be that it requires language/humans to make meaning, but the origin of the pressure is not identified. Who or what puts this pressure on the development of humans/language? Why must humans ‘mean’? To be able to answer these questions without discomfort, one must hold the belief that humans (at the very least) are here by design, not by accident, and that there is a purpose to our existence. From what I have learned by talking and listening to colleagues and reading around, these beliefs are not widely held among linguists.

Being a follower of Jesus and a believer in a Creator God, Yahweh, allows me to answer the questions about where the pressure ‘to mean’ comes from, and why it is necessary for humans to mean. As I wrote a few months ago in this blog, I think humans’ capacity for, and use of, language reflects God’s character as a creative, communicative, personal God. The pressure ‘to mean’ comes from God, who made us in his image and designed us for relationship with himself and with other humans. The reason humans need language, need to be ‘meaners’, is for relationships, and in particular the relationship with God who communicates with us through meaning. As the apostle Paul says to the Romans, ‘everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved' (Romans 10:13). Reconciliation with God requires repentance and faith. But repentance requires a conscience (the recognition of having done wrong), and ‘faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ’ (Romans 10:17). In order to be reconciled to God we must be able to hear and understand his Word, and then respond to it by turning away from sin and seeking forgiveness which is granted because of Jesus.

For me, this also explains why animals are not ‘meaners’ with language in the same way as humans. Sure, animals can make some meanings, and have even been shown to be able to communicate with humans using human language (e.g. the bonobo apes at the GreatApe Trust of Iowa; see Susan Savage-Rumbaugh’s TED presentation). But they were not created in God’s image, and they do not need to be saved the way humans do because animals do not (as far as we know) have a moral conscience. We learn from God’s word in the book of Hebrews (2:17) that it was because humans needed reconciliation with God that he sent His Son as a human being, Jesus, to die on a cross and be raised again from the dead. There wasn’t also another sacrifice, fully God and fully bonobo (or bull, or beetle) that had to be offered up at the same time to reconcile all the animals to God. It is only humans, who have a moral conscience, and who have the ability to mean for relationship with others and with God, who need to be reconciled to God.

References:

Williams, G. & Lukin, A. (Eds). (2004). The Development of Language: Functional Perspectives on Species and Individuals. London & New York: Continuum.

Does language matter to God?

As for man, his days are like grass; he flourishes like a flower of the field;
for the wind passes over it, and it is gone, and its place knows it no more.
But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children's children,
to those who keep his covenant and remember to do his commandments.
The LORD has established his throne in the heavens, and his kingdom rules over all. (Psalm 103:15-19)

Thus says the Psalmist. In this and other places, the Bible reminds us that we as humans are very short-lived. Although 80 years feel like a lot to us, they are but a moment compared with the eternal existence of God. And yet we matter to God, because we are his image bearers. I always find that quite humbling.

But even more fleeting than humans are the things we say. Our words come out of our mouths in a pattern of soundwaves, and then they are gone in an instant. Of course, we can now record them in writing or sound and the memory of them will last a bit longer, but in themselves they do not last.

But despite its extremely short period of existence, our language - what we say, not what language we speak - matters to God. The book of Proverbs is full of bits of wisdom about how we speak. Here are a few of them:

There are six things that the LORD hates, seven that are an abomination to him:
haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood,
a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that make haste to run to evil,
a false witness who breathes out lies, and one who sows discord among brothers. (Proverbs 6:16-19)

The fear of the LORD is hatred of evil. Pride and arrogance and the way of evil and perverted speech I hate. (Prov 8:13)

The tongue of the righteous is choice silver; the heart of the wicked is of little worth. The lips of the righteous feed many, but fools die for lack of sense. (Proverbs 10:20-21)

The mouth of the righteous brings forth wisdom, but the perverse tongue will be cut off.
The lips of the righteous know what is acceptable, but the mouth of the wicked, what is perverse. (Proverbs 10:31-32)

Truthful lips endure forever, but a lying tongue is but for a moment. (Proverbs 12:19)

Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruits. (Prov 18:21)

She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue. (Prov 31:26)

Likewise, James devotes a significant amount of space in his letter (James 3:1-12) to teaching about the effects of what we say and how to make sure we love others and glorify God with our language.

And for me as a linguist, I think it's more than just the words we choose consciously, but the patterns of meanings that we 'mean', without consciously being able to choose them. Jesus rebuked the Pharisees saying:

You brood of vipers! How can you speak good, when you are evil? For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. (Matthew 12:34)

Because we are all sinful at heart (Romans 3:23) it is likely that our patterns of meaning will display our sinfulness, a lack of love for others and a lack of trust in God, even if the words we consciously or habitually choose seem good.

Language: from the mouth of...

In the course of my search for blogs about language/linguistics and faith, I came across this very interesting post about whether the human language in which the Bible is written limits God’s ability to communicate with us. The discussion was based on Article IV of the Chicago Statement of Biblical Inerrancy – a statement of affirmations and denials prepared following an intensive 3-day conference of about 300 evangelical pastors. The Article in question reads as follows:

We affirm that God who made mankind in His image has used language as a means of revelation.

We deny that human language is so limited by our creatureliness that it is rendered inadequate as a vehicle for divine revelation. We further deny that the corruption of human culture and language through sin has thwarted God's work of inspiration.

There are two points I would like to make about this now, but I might return to it in a later post after I’ve thought and read some more.

Firstly, God ‘made mankind in His image’ (see Genesis 1:26) and I take it that, as part of his creation of humans, God created language also. God, who is a relational God, created us in his image to be relational creatures, and it seems to me that God has given us language so that we can relate to each other, but also so that we can relate to him.

I was recently reminded of the way humans reflect God’s image in terms of communication when I read Psalm 94. The psalmist cries out to God to bring justice and judge wrongdoers, who keep doing what they are doing, thinking that God can’t see them. In verses 8-11, the psalmist then goes to address these wrongdoers:

 ⁸ Understand, O dullest of the people!
Fools, when will you be wise?
⁹ He who planted the ear, does he not hear?
He who formed the eye, does he not see?
¹⁰He who disciplines the nations, does he not rebuke?
He who teaches man knowledge -
¹¹ the LORD - knows the thoughts of man,
that they are but a breath.

This reminded me that our ability to see, hear and reflect on the world in thought is a reflection of God’s ability to do all these things, since we are created in his image. The ability to hear (v.9) particularly struck me: what is God hearing (and, we assume, understanding) here but the cries and prayers of the people he has made? The characteristic of being communicative must also be a reflection of God’s communicative nature. Jesus’ testimony about God helps us see that God is communicative within the Trinity: there is communication between God the Father and God the Son (e.g. Matthew 11:27, John 14:10, 15:15; Matthew 26:39,42; John 14:6-7, 16), God the Son and God the Spirit (e.g. John 15:26), and God the Father and God the Spirit (e.g. John 14:16, Romans 8:26-27).

And so, because we have been created as relational, communicative beings, ‘God has used language as a means of revelation’. So all three members of the Trinity also communicate with people at different times (e.g. the Father in Genesis 1:28-29, Exodus 3:3-6; the Son in any of the gospels, also Acts 9:4-6; the Spirit in John 15:26, Acts 2:4).

God’s use of the human phenomenon of language to communicate with us reminds me of another beautiful way in which God used a human phenomenon to reveal himself - about 2000 years ago, in the form of a human, Jesus Christ. Because we are humans who use language, God uses language to speak to us through the Scriptures. Because we are humans who have physical, frail and mortal bodies, God sent his Son, Jesus, as a human, to point us back to God, and used his human mortality to demonstrate his love for the world. It was the ultimate communicative act.

Soundbites and cliches (part 1)

One of the biggest media stories at the moment is the tragic events in Norway over the weekend. A young man (whose name I will not mention here – why give him the satisfaction?) caused the deaths of over 70 of his countrymen, apparently as an attempt to send a message to the government that he was not happy with their policy on immigration. Not just their general immigration policy, it seems, but particularly their openness to Muslim immigrants. It’s tragic that a citizen of a democratic nation felt the need to use violence to make a point rather than his democratic rights to petition the government on the issue that’s bothering him.

In early reports of the situation, the perpetrator was described as a Christian, and subsequent reports explained that he himself called himself a Christian on facebook and was aligned with the Knights Templar organisation. The use of the descriptor ‘Christian’ is very misleading and unhelpful, as most media attempts to succinctly capture a person’s character and motivations are. Apart from the likelihood that he is psychopathic, his motivations seem political and racial rather than religious. So associating him with the term ‘Christian’ is, firstly, a red herring, and secondly, a clear demonstration of the lack of understanding of what it means to be a Christian. Apparently the perpetrator himself, in the manifesto allegedly written by him, admits that he is not a ‘religious’ Christian in the sense of being a follower of Jesus and having a personal relationship with God (see this article). Rather, he aligns himself with what he calls a ‘cultural Christianity’, which seems for him to be synonymous with western democratic social values.

Yesterday, as part of my daily bible reading, I was struck by the following verses from the book of Proverbs (chapter 11, English Standard Version), which is a collection of the wise sayings attributed to King Solomon:

The righteousness of the blameless keeps his way straight, but the wicked falls by his own wickedness. (verse 5)

The righteousness of the upright delivers them, but the treacherous are taken captive by their lust. (verse 6)

With his mouth the godless man would destroy his neighbor, but by knowledge the righteous are delivered. (verse 9)

By the blessing of the upright a city is exalted, but by the mouth of the wicked it is overthrown. (verse 11)

Whoever belittles his neighbor lacks sense, but a man of understanding remains silent. (verse 12)

They each speak of the foolishness and destructiveness of doing evil, or plotting against or slandering one’s neighbour. The perpetrator of the crimes in Norway would have done well to heed this wisdom as part of his ‘cultural Christianity’. In a way, they are perhaps like an ancient form of ‘soundbite’! But I would argue that they are much more constructive and contain much more wisdom than today’s media soundbites, where in the absence of the full story a guess or incomplete piece of information will suffice, and there is scant regard for the consequences of connecting that piece of information with the events.

It reminds me of a report I saw in 2005 (Sydney Morning Herald, 10th June) about a tragic house fire in Wyong on the Central Coast of NSW which claimed the lives of four young children, three of whom were brothers. The mother of the three boys who died, and whose house it was, had gone out for the evening and had left the four children with two older siblings (12 and 13 years) and a cousin. Told like that, it sounds like a terrible tragedy and the reader would be expected to feel sympathy for the mother. But that is not the way it was told, as we get the following pieces of information (among others):

Lisa Forde, a mother of eight who rents the home where five of her children live with her...

Ms Forde lived in the rented house beside the Wyong River for four years. She and Mr Shepherd walked 50 metres down the street and across the road to Wyong Bowling Recreation Club to watch the Anthony Mundine-Mikkel Kessler fight on Wednesday night.

Mr Shepherd - who was outside the house yesterday drinking a long-neck as reporters milled around - said Ms Forde had gone to check the children when the fight ended.

Mr Shepherd, who said he had served two years' jail after being convicted on drugs charges, said Ms Forde had children by four men, two of whom were in jail.

At the very end, the reporter provides some balance with a positive character reference from Ms Forde’s neighbour, "She was a real good mother who only wanted what was best for her kids. This is horrible. How can you live with something like this?" but by then the damage has been done.

"I've got a little list"

There’s been a bit of a controversy this week about the Sydney Symphony Orchestra’s ‘The Very Best of G&S’ show at the Opera House. One of the songs, the Lord High executioner’s ‘List Song’ from the Mikado, which seems designed to have its lyrics tailored to the contemporary events of the day, mentioned Hillsong Church in an allegedly derogatory way. The lyric deemed offensive was as follows:

“That Hillsong lot on television, all joyfully singing psalms, I wish they would desist, and their happy claps resist.”

Apparently, Hillsong’s lawyers wrote to the Sydney Symphony, asking to see the lyrics. I suppose the fact that the song is basically the executioner listing the people who should not be missed by his execution campaign, makes it a bit unkind. But they’re not the only ones to be targeted. A blog comment by the show’s conductor, Guy Noble, notes that “Julia Gillard, Tony Abbott, Clover Moore, Justin Bieber’s dermatologist, lovers of the music of Brahms, any aunty who has a moustache, anyone with a mobile phone, Westfield” were also included in the list of social irritants.

Having seen a full performance of the Mikado (by Opera Australia a few years ago), I can attest that it's a very funny song and the whole point of it is to poke fun at the joke-butts of the moment and draw the audience into an in-group of people who have the same attitudes about things relevant to their society. The Sydney Morning Herald (25^th June 2011) reported Maunder (who played Ko Ko, the executioner) as saying “If you are in the public arena, you are fair game... I'm very surprised anyone would have taken offence. It's affectionate and charming. It would be a mistake to say there was any malicious intent.”

But as always with these kind of 'what are they complaining about?' comments directed at Christians, I wonder whether the same joking treatment would ever be levelled at adherents of any other faith. Can you see the Australian Islamic community being written into the lyrics? I think not... The effect would be (as it is here) ‘We all think these people [insert name of individual or group] are a bit strange, but they sure provide us with something to laugh about together’. It’s great for creating an in-group of those who agree, but it also suggests that those who think differently are excluded.

While I have my criticisms of Hillsong, I think they have a right to draw attention to this public mocking disguised as musical culture. But it would have been a good opportunity to invite people to see what they’re all about, or to gently provoke discussion in the public arena about why it is that the Christian church is fair game for poking fun at in public while other faiths are off limits. I wouldn't have made it a legal issue, though. The Bible is full of references to the people of God being mocked by the world around them. It should be no surprise to Christians when they find themselves in the same situation. Jesus himself was mocked mercilessly even while he hung on the cross. The Gospels tells us that Jesus predicted that it would happen to him (e.g. Luke 18:32) and indeed it did, from various directions (e.g. Luke 22:63, Luke 23:11, Luke 23:36). He bore it with dignity, and rather than trying to take his mockers to court (he knew it was coming, after all), he mercifully offered to represent them, as he represents us all, in the highest court of God’s judgement.