At a Loss For Words

The study of linguistics has always fascinated me. To be human is to express oneself to others, and we do that through and ever expanding structure of words and grammar that create endlessly shifting possibilities as we learn and experience language as it applies to our own lives as well as how it applies to the lives and experiences of others. We are able to speak on most anything, describe most anything, and, to an extent, encapsulate most anything into words and phrases that paint pictures all their own in the minds of our listeners.

However, no matter who we are or how eloquently we are able to speak, our language still falls short in many aspects. We can try to describe our personal experiences and feelings to others, but this operates only on the assumption that their experience overlaps enough with ours that they are able to relate. Otherwise, we stand unable to express the full depth of our experience or, for that matter, our being. We stand at a loss.

This is also the case when we talk about things that go far beyond our experience, or anyone's experience as it stands created. To speak about God or the truth of faith is to automatically bind oneself into an inherently limited framework. Yes, language has the ability to encapsulate all that stands before us as created beings, but it cannot and can never begin to fully express, let alone capture, the reality of God or of Eternal life. These things stand beyond our experience. We know them through the divine and generous revelation of God, but even these revelations, which are only a snapshot of reality, stand beyond what can be captured by words.

So we use language that is understandable. Heaven is wedding feast. Jesus the Lamb. God is Father. The Church is the Body and Bride of Christ. But even these expressions are limited. God is Father, but his fatherhood so far exceeds any fatherhood that we can know here on earth. The same applies for words spoken about Mary as Queen of Heaven, or of the many titles of Jesus. A word spoken by a creature such as ourselves cannot describe the Creator who exceeds creation. So, as a consequence, we express our faith in limited terms, not in some feigned attempt at acknowledgment, but to the best of our ability which is due to God. We can never be truly just to God because he deserves more than we can offer, but we speak as truthfully and as reverently as we can, knowing that we must fall short, but will do so by striving.

This is what we refer to as the principle of transposition; the idea that lower ranks of things attempt to encapsulate or describe high forms through varying combinations of limited expression. Take for instance a pencil drawing. I can use a line, shade or smudge in an attempt to draw a flower. The lines I use can take different shapes, but they are still lines. On the level of the image, the elements used to create the image may seem repetitive and unsatisfactory, especially when you know what it is trying to represent. You may even scoff at the idea that a line used to make a stem can also be used to make a leaf. However, when the image is seen in the light of what it is trying to represent, the lines, while limited, still express truth. This way, the lines used are pulled into the reality of the flower, and justified in relation to the higher thing by expressing truth through lower means.

Look at this principle in the realm of faith. We know heaven as a wedding feast between Jesus and the Church, but the idea is often passed over or scoffed at. We know weddings by our experience, and when we try to limit the higher image of heaven into the lower expression of the word "wedding", we shoot ourselves in the foot and lose credibility. However, when we see our metaphor in light of the higher reality, suddenly the word takes on more meaning as it describes an element of the higher reality.

So, as we can see, transposition, works in two directions. The lower element tries to describe and capture a bit of the higher truth, but it cannot until the higher truth is revealed and pulls the lower expression into itself. By this, our words are sanctified, and we can speak truth about exceeding goodness, love, and truth despite our own limited nature and expression.

So what happens with the disparity left over? What happens within the person to which truth is revealed if he cannot express it totally? This is the individual and personal love of God. He knows that the human person cannot express totally the revelation he is given, even when the revelation is itself just a snapshot. There will always be a part that goes unsaid because it cannot simply be spoken. This is the gift God gives to the person who speak of him. God provides both the speakable and unspeakable realities, and that which is unspeakable in it goodness only enriches the person gifted with it.

This is why we must pray for revelation and speak the Gospel at all times. We are speaking truth in order to receive truth. We are making known what we can with the faith that the knowledge itself is a gift.

St Joseph, pray for us.

God, Father in Heaven, bless us