The whole topic of verbal fog makes me think of my bilingual nine-year old. Her second language is one she made up herself, but still—aren’t you impressed just a little?
In second grade, Tera invented “Spankaloonian.” It’s a complicated language, full of “sp”- and “spr”- starting words. It's pure gibberish to me, but in short order, Tera taught it to all her classmates. She continued her tutelage with each new student the following year, and again this year. I'm pleased to report that the entire fourth grade class is now Spankaloonian-savvy.
It came in handy last spring when the students decided to plan a surprise party for their third-grade teacher, Mrs. Jensen. Needing to firm up a few details, such as who would bring the chips and juice, Tera asked for a few minutes to make an announcement. Her teacher obliged. Tera stood at the front of the classroom and began a barrage of “sprips” this and “spoose” that. (Or words to that affect. No human has yet been able to capture--in writing--the delicate nuances of the language.)
Mrs. Jensen called me during her lunch break and told me all about it.
“She’s fluent!” she said, laughing. “That girl just rattled off those words like it was her native tongue--and the other kids responded!”
I asked if she could pick out any words.
“This wasn’t simple pig-latin, you know. A syllable or two sounded familiar, but for the most part I was completely lost. All I could do was sit and listen.”
Last month, I talked about writers who hide behind obscure language to buoy their own image. But not all writers purposefully set out to create verbal fog. Some conjure the mist out of ignorance. They drop words on the page without ever considering the reader, using terms comfortable to them, but not necessarily understandable to those they hope to communicate with. The result of such writing is that some readers are left sitting on the sidelines like my daughter's teacher--listening but not hearing.
For example, think of the fancy terminology we Christian writers know: Atonement. Sanctification. Redemption. Justification. Sure, those of us who have been on this path for awhile can track right along with each other. But new believers have no idea what we’re talking about when we throw out those abstract words. And even if you're a writer who aims your work primarily at a Christian audience, don't you hope your influence extends beyond the already-redeemed? What about an unbeliever who might pick up your work--don't you want to reach that heart as well?
Here’s a challenge for each of us serious about fulfilling our mission purpose: let’s talk straight. Don’t make the uninitiated sit and gawk while you flaunt your second language. Help them by using simpler phrases. Instead of "atonement," how about if you say “Jesus paid the penalty for sin.” Instead of redemption, say “we’ve had our sins washed away.” And instead of justification, just say “we’ve been made right in God’s eyes.”
You don’t have to say goodbye to the fancy words forever. I’m betting we’ll have lots of time to speak Christianese in heaven. And we’ll all know the language then.
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