Separated By a Common Language

One of the most critical tasks in the discipline of theology is to understand and define terminology. A rookie mistake is to assume that a theological term has a static meaning, or that it has the same meaning today that it had when the theologian used it, even if only a few years ago much less 1500. I often think of theological terminology as little presents packed tightly with multiple objects inside just sitting and waiting for us to open and explore. But to understand the terminology we have to be willing to do the hard work of sorting through how the language is used.

I remember teaching on the Nicene creed a few years ago when a student challenged the phrase "begotten not made." This student assumed that the term 'begotten' simply meant 'was given birth to' thus missing the theological struggle to articulate the eternal nature of the distinction-yet-unity of the Father and the Son and that the Son is 'eternally begotten' of the Father. (As the creed says, Jesus is homoousios to patri - of one being with the Father.) Theology, on the whole, is a struggle to articulate the wondrous mystery of the God who is revealed to us in Jesus Christ. To reduce the language is to miss the mystery.

I think this is why so many people get frustrated with theology. Why can't the language be straight-ahead and easy to comprehend? Why are words often recategorized or reframed by theologians? But as many orthodox and heretical theologians have found, language that attempts to encapsulate that which is uncontainable or to make visible that which is invisible is bound to be difficult to comprehend. In the words of Rogers and Hammerstein, "How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?" If the nuns in the Sound of Music couldn't solve a problem like Maria, then how can we, mere mortals, ever expect to articulate the fullness of the being of God?

The theologian, Colin Gunton, talked about this as the quest to find "the least inadequate language" in which to articulate the being of God. So, no wonder we sometimes feel as if we are separated by a common language. We have to take the time hear how we each use our terminology and then we can enter into a dialogue. And sometimes it seems as if we are simply speaking with a different accent. Do we have the patience to listen and then respond, even when the other person doesn't understand. Hearing then becomes a primary task in the discipline of theology, but we often have trouble understanding one another. And in this process, we sometime ascribe wrong beliefs to the other, simply because they are using their terminology differently. Learning to listen is a spiritual discipline as well as an academic one, and we are all called to this task whether or not we are professional theologians...

So, to poke a bit of fun at this great theological task, here is video to make you think and, I hope, laugh...