How do we know when our language needs a makeover?
One great thing about writing for the web is that it starts conversations with extraordinary people. Two months ago, Kathleen Turcic commented on an article I wrote for Huffpost Religion, and from there we had a most pleasant and stimulating email exchange. Â In the process, she introduced me to her own venture, QuintessentialYou Design.
In a nutshell, Kathleen helps people live out their essential selves into their external circumstances, thus creating a life full of energy, passion, and purpose. While touring through her website, I was struck by how essentially spiritual and postmodern her language is. Itâ€™s not exactly light reading, but if you hang in there, I think youâ€™ll find it expresses essential truths in words weâ€™re all familiar with.
That got me thinking about the language of faith in general. How do we know when to keep using the time-honored words and phrases of millennia past, and when to update our language?
For instance: You may have noticed that I rarely use the word religion. Quite simply, it carries negative connotations for so many people that it can, I think, detract from my ability to connect with them. (The hordes of people who identify as â€œspiritual but not religiousâ€ serve as evidence to this point.) So I talk about faith, faith traditions, and spirituality, but I try to avoid the â€œR-word.â€
Hereâ€™s why this matters. Most faith traditions have â€œgood newsâ€ that cries out to be shared in, I would submit, respectful dialogue. Christianity, in particular, urges its followers to share the good news of Jesus. Yet these faith traditions, and their language, are at least two millennia old. Are we authentically sharing the good news in our postmodern world if postmodern people canâ€™t understand our ancient language?
Wickedly controversial case in point: â€œGod sent Jesus, his only Son, to die as a sacrifice for our sins.â€ To the ancient Jews, with their system of temple sacrifices and offerings, this faith statement probably made some sense; they at least had a point of reference from which to grapple with it. We postmoderns have no such point of reference. Thatâ€™s why, to many people who are not Christians (and some who are), the statement makes God sound barbaric. What kind of God needs a sacrifice, let alone the sacrifice of his own offspring, to appease his anger?
Now, whether you take this statement literally or metaphorically, it does speak to the wild extravagance of Godâ€™s all-consuming love for humanity. But many people in our age canâ€™t get past the seeming cruelty of the act itself. Do we need entirely new language, or perhaps a tweak of the old language, to make the same point? Can we change the language without changing the message?
I donâ€™t know the answer, but I think this deserves discussionâ€”not just on the â€œdied for our sinsâ€ point, but on many others in many faith traditions. What do you think?