"Wherewithal shall a young man cleanse his way? By taking heed thereto according to thy word. With my whole heart have I sought thee: O let me not wander from thy commandments."
(Ps 119:9-10)
To those familiar with the King James Bible, these words may be sweet honey for the soul. Meanwhile, everyone else is trying to work out what wherewithal means. And taking heed thereto.
Words can be wonderful when used properly: they give knowledge, reveal what was hidden, they light up the proverbial darkness. But if not understood, they can just be confusing. This is just as true for religious language, that is - the things we say about God, or the things we believe God has said.
How should we talk about God? How do we know what God has said? Can we know? Here are three questions to ask about religious language:
1. Ancient traditions or modern translations?
A recent piece in the Economist explores religious language, reflecting on the archaic forms still present in our current dialect, noting how the formerly popular 'present subjunctive' seen in religious phrases like 'Peace be with you' or 'God save the Queen' is rarely used in modern English today.
"I've never thought about it," or "I couldn't care less" may be your response to this analysis. But the article prompts bigger questions about the meaning of religious language - namely - is truth bound up with the forms of language which have been used (e.g. Latin prayers, the 'authorised' King James Version of the Bible), or is it found found in what the language points to? For those who believe the latter then clarity and common expression are essential, paraphrases such Eugene Peterson's The Message translation will be popular, taking ancient ideas but portraying them in a new, vernacular tongue.
As the Economist puts it: "Should churches regularly update their translations, keeping the religion fresh and relevant, or preserve tradition and authenticity?"
It is a good question. Ancient forms preserve a sense of tradition and mystery. Perhaps there's something profound about being caught up in Latin chants that you can't fully understand. If everything in our worship contains intellectual concepts that we can fully understand or explain, then have we put God in a box?
Nonsense, say the moderns. Isn't the whole point of communication that it's actually understood? Ancient hymns may feel nostalgic for those from a Christian background but often for the uninitiated they are difficult to engage with. Hence the Bible of course: God speaks so that we might hear him. But bringing the Bible into the debate about language doesn't always make things easier.
When reading Scripture, should you favour translations which attempt capture the literal meaning of the original Greek/Hebrew texts (such as the ESV), but can be harder to understand? Or should you lean towards 'dynamic equivalence' translations like the NIV, which attempt to capture the essence of the original while being more liberal with syntax or vocabulary, to translate for today what would have been heard millennia ago?
For some, the answer is simply 'yes'. We can have both, and the best reading of Scripture comes from reading a variety of translations so as to capture the width and depth of what the original languages expressed. That's a reasoned, positive approach. But perhaps this provokes another question: is God's truth located in the past, or the present?
2. The Bible: a word from the past or a word for the present?
This may sound like a false dichotomy, but it bears consideration. Those who consider the Bible to be 'inerrant' will apply that inerrancy to the original manuscripts on which the Bible writers wrote: in this moment of original inspiration God spoke most clearly. One New Testament scholar and translator explained that for him, the Holy Spirit's clearest inspiration had to be in the past, because he certainly didn't sense the Spirit's presence in his translation efforts.
Saying that God 'spoke' in the past emphasises Scripture's authority: a sure voice anchored in history, reliable and trustworthy unlike the shifting sands of the voices we may hear today.
But can this give an unhelpful picture of God - speaking in ancient tongues thousands of years ago on a manuscript we'll never find? Sometimes it can sound as though God doesn't speak anymore. Is God not the God of the prophets, who speaks constantly into the present, is always near to us, and ultimately expresses himself through a word, but in a person, Jesus Christ?
Others will want to take such a line, emphasising the Spirit's power to speak in the present, perhaps even wanting to argue for new interpretations in light of what the Spirit is saying 'today'. Classic debates about slavery, or the role of women in Church lend some credence to this approach, showing how Scripture has been misunderstood in the past and must be reinterpreted in light of present experience.
But is this a slippery slope, opening Scripture up to our manipulation in light what we think it should be saying? Can God speak to us through the Bible if we're never willing to let it say something we might not want to hear? Ultimately, do we stand over Scripture, or does it stand over us?
3. The ultimate question: 'What is truth?'
So Pontius Pilate asks Jesus in John's Gospel. Pilate's question is iconic, and summarises much philosophical, theological, and linguistic debate that has pervaded in recent centuries. 'What is truth?' - or 'How can I know truth?' is in many ways the ultimate question. Is it found in ancient forms, or new translations? Is it something God said in the past, or something we need to hear afresh today?
Does God want to speak clearly, or does he prefer to speak in riddles, narrating himself to us in mystery, metaphor, and tongues we can't understand?
Some of these questions demand a response from us, and are worthy of serious reflection and study.
Maybe God isn't always as clear as we'd like him to be. Maybe sometimes he's clearer than we think. Asking the questions is a good start. Until then, I'll settle with truth mingled with mystery. And Google Translate.
