Word beyond Words

Just a few weeks ago, my eight month old grandson, Caetano, said his first word "Da-Da."  We had been anticipating what word this would be for several weeks and "Da-Da" obviously pleased my son.  Now Caetano is on the life-long journey of  using words in all of the variable situations he will encounter.

He will learn rather quickly that words carry incredible power--for good and for ill.  He will learn that words can convey complex thoughts and emotions, words can hurt, and words can heal.

In my childhood, great emphasis was placed in my working-class family on proper use of words.  It was understood that truthfulness was a basic virtue (Thou shalt not lie).  Lies, even little seemingly innocuous ones, were not acceptable.  Good casting of words in readable and pleasant penmanship (now almost a lost art) was important.  If words are important, then the way you write them is also important.  Some words were never to be used in our family--Dad and mom made sure that we understood that disrespectful words such as the N word could not be uttered. Some words ("I love you" and "Thank you") were deemed to be very good. I think that my parents'  attitudes of truthfulness, caring and respect helped ground me in my own ethical perspectives as an adult.

I have a repetoire of memories of hurtful words:  "Fag!"  "You are the least popular student in your home room" (by my school counselor). . . . these are only two examples that still stand out.

I also have one fairly recent memory of words that were liberating:  "I am gay." 

Christian faith development also has forced me to think a lot about words.  How do you engage in God-talk?  What did it mean in my evangelical Protestant background to repeat the words "  I believe in Jesus Christ and accept Him as my personal Savior."  What about words in prayer?  How do I account for my strong attachment to the words in the Anglican Book of Common Prayer, quite apart from what these words point to?  Why do I love repeating the great creeds of the church when I am not sure I believe the words?  Do beliefs make a difference, really?  Or is it more that the words expressing the beliefs make a difference?

One of the things that I have learned in the monastic practice of lectio divina is to give close attention to words, their cadence, their construction. Their sound can produce new meanings.  And I am reminded very often that monastics always have  been attached to words, painfully copying and conserving books before they could be printed or mass-produced.

Words count.

Last Sunday, the First Sunday in Christmas, the Gospel reading was of the Prologue to the Gospel of John:  "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.  He was in the beginning with God."  So now the Word is embodied, in-carnated, grounded in the person of Jesus.  Here we have jumped from the power of words to the ground of all expressions and reality:  the Word . . . the Word made flesh.  The immensity of this thought is stunning.  Yes, words count.  And now we are in the realm of poetry and metaphor:  The Word, the Logos.

What is it that makes Jesus, the human, the Word?  Can words answer this question.  Is the answer beyond words?