Language is hard!

In my research work recently, I have needed to do some reading in linguistics…

which is not an area of study in which I have previously done much reading…

and…

like most advanced, technical areas it comes with its own peculiarities of language.

And…

despite reading them multiple times…

I’m still struggling to remember the differences between ‘dialect’, ‘sociolect’, and ‘idiolect’…

let alone what words like ‘anacoluthon’, ‘asyndeton’, ‘hendiadys’, or ‘parataxis’ mean…

and that’s without even delving into the different grammatical rules and constructions of other languages—

like the different parts of ancient Greek verbs.

Now, in a way, it makes sense that advanced, specialised, or technical areas of knowledge have their own language.

And, to a large extent, that language develops—

like all language does—

as a means to facilitate communication with others. 

A particular word is chosen—

or, more often, concocted—

as a shorthand way of saying something that might otherwise require a sentence…

or even a paragraph to explain.

And those who work in that field—

and regularly come across and use those terms—

know what they mean.

And yet, at the same time…

the use of that language creates a barrier…

that effectively separates those who understand and use it…

from those who don’t.

In that sense…

specialised language both creates and reinforces group boundaries.

And, needless, to say it can be used as a means of power—

either innocently, or intentionally.

Many of us will probably experience that, whenever we’re a patient in hospital.

Doctors—

and even nurses—

speak to each other, about us, in a language that we can’t understand…

and which many doctors seem to be unable…

or unwilling…

to explain.

 

But even everyday language can be hard.

After all, many words have more than one meaning.

And, often, we rely on context to tell us what its meaning is.

But even then, sometimes, it’s not clear.

Culture also plays a significant role in that.

If I say, “I’m going to the football” this afternoon…

what you imagine that I’m doing…

and what I’m actually doing depends on what I understand by, and call, “football”.

What an American would mean by that—

especially if it was a game of ‘college football’—

and what we, as Australians, would understand…

would be vastly different.

Translating a word from one culture to another…

or from one language to another…

is difficult.

Throw in a couple of centuries of tradition on top of that…

and it gets even more complicated.

 

All of which brings us to this morning’s reading from John’s Gospel—

a reading that many of us know so well—

or think that we do.

Here, Nicodemus comes to speak with Jesus.

And it doesn’t take long before their conversation starts to go astray.

Jesus announces provocatively, “No one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above”.

To which Nicodemus replies, “How can anyone be born having grown old?”

As our English version renders it, Nicodemus seems to come across as quite obtuse.

But the problem is, the Greek here is very ambiguous.

There’s one particular preposition…

which the author is placing on the lips of both speakers that has two quite different senses.

When used in a spatial sense, this word means “from above”.

When used in a temporal sense, it means “again”.

So, when Jesus announces to Nicodemus, “No one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above”…

he could just as well be saying…

“No one can see the kingdom of God without being born again”. 

And that’s certainly how Nicodemus is portrayed as understanding it.

And, hence, why he’s confused.

In this case, nothing in the context explains what sense was meant by Jesus.

And while the metaphorical expression ‘born again’ is one most Christians today are familiar with…

it wasn’t a common or jargonistic expression back then.

Nicodemus is portrayed as understanding it in a literal, temporal sense.

Jesus is portrayed as meaning it in a metaphorical, spatial sense.

And the point that the author seems to have Jesus make is that we only understand ‘the things of God’…

and, hence, we only receive “eternal life”…

if, in a metaphorical sense, we are re-made by God, spiritually.

Now, it’s important to remember—

another one of those language issues—

that when the author of John’s Gospel speaks of “eternal life” he’s not talking about some sort of post-death, heavenly existence.

“Eternal life”, for him, is “life in all its fullness”—

that is, life as God intends it to be.

And that’s further understood as living in a close relationship with God;

or living fully, here and now, as a child of God…

in all of its implications.

And, it’s in that context that he makes the statement that we’ve all heard so many times…

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life”.

In other words…

our ability to live fully, here and now, as children of God…

comes from “believing” in the Jesus whom God sent to us;

and it comes from God’s immense love for “the world”.

Once again, more language issues.

“To believe”, for this author, is synonymous with “to be born from above”.

And the ultimate origin for that…

he suggests…

is God’s love for “the world”.

Now, the word translated as “world” can mean the physical world in all its fullness…

namely, the cosmos, or the whole created order.

But it can also refer to the inhabited world…

and, thus, for all humankind.

God’s love for the whole of creation…

and for all humankind, without exception or qualification—

prompted God to send Jesus…

so that all of us might know that God loves us…

and, in knowing that we are loved like that…

we might live as God intends;

that we might, truly, live as children of God.

And, just to reinforce that, the author asserts, “God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him”.

More language issues!

The verb translated here as “to condemn” actually means “to judge”.

God didn’t send Jesus to condemn us.

God didn’t even send Jesus to judge us.

God sent Jesus to save us—

by showing us how much God loves us;

and inviting us into a renewed or a new relationship with God—

as well as with each other, as children of God…

and, indeed, with the whole of creation…

which God loves along with all of us—

so that we would know true life;

life in all its fullness;

life as it was intended to be.

 

And the very manner of God’s acting was meant to show us what that means:

it’s love from beginning to end.

God’s aim— 

God’s intent—

is that we would know that we are so completely, totally, and unconditionally loved…

that in knowing we are loved like that…

we might love like that too.

 

That, in the end, is how the world will be saved.

And— 

as Martin Luther King jr reminds us—

that’s the only way that the world will be saved.