Hear Ye the Word of the Lord (eBook)

IMAGINE A WORLD WITHOUT WORDS. In place of babies’ first words, endless gurgling. In place of people conversing, a few hand signals. In place of broadcasts and podcasts, silence. Actually, according to Genesis 1, in place of us, a blank canvas—a world without form, and void (Gen 1:2). We wonder, would even God be the same without words (Jn 1:1)?

The reality is, words are part and parcel of who we are. But what if words are only oral? Nothing inscribed on rock, potsherds, or page. Imagine trying to get along in today’s world without reading and writing—and texting!

The French have a common expression, “Je n’ai qu’une parole,” which literally translated is “I have only one word.” It’s not that they know only one word. The point is the same as when we say in English, “I give you my word.” Or we can also say, “I’ll take your word for it.” In either case, the spoken word is enough, writing unnecessary. (Note that different words can convey the same idea, and they can point to a function beyond what appears on the surface.)1

Jesus declared that “yes” or “no” is all that’s needed in certain situations (Mt 5:37). More than that, he considered the words he spoke—inspired by no less than the Father himself, and backed by his actions—to be adequate for the most important exchange of information of all time: his own divine revelation (Jn 8:28; 12:50).

For most of us, that doesn’t compute. If we didn’t have the truth in written form, especially the words of Jesus, which we can scrutinize, memorize, plaster on the wall—we’d feel slighted, shortchanged, even unsure about what the revelation was all about. After all, aren’t reading and writing an obvious advancement over the oral alternative?

But not so fast. Plato (fourth century BC) and other ancient philosophers questioned the value of written words in place of oral ones, especially for communicating important ideas. Socrates (fifth century BC) and the Stoic philosopher Epictetus (second century AD) are examples of Greco-Roman philosophers who wrote nothing when they surely could have. We only know about their philosophies through what their students recorded. Why? Because they considered teaching via written words inadequate.

In what ways? We won’t understand all the reasoning, since most of us are deeply immersed in the culture of reading and writing. But for them, personal interaction and give-and-take with students was essential for communicating profound concepts. And since reading skills and backgrounds varied, teachers could not count on the ideas expressed in writing to be adequately understood by all readers. Even more, if students had written versions of a philosopher’s thinking, they might not read carefully and think through the concepts sufficiently, missing important parts. Students might also neglect the necessary step of applying philosophy to their life situations, something philosophers could better encourage in face-to-face discussions.2

Nonetheless, some philosophers did write (Aristotle and Epictetus) and sought to recreate in written form ways they would orally lead students into deep discussions. The result was the dialogue and symposium forms of philosophical essays. Plato is a case in point. All but two of his twenty-seven writings were dialogues. The essays featured dramatic argumentation with hypothetical participants discussing philosophical issues.3

For examples of an oral preference in more recent times, we could explore numerous cultures around the world.4 In the case of early Americans in our country, “To native people, oral speech was more trustworthy than written words. . . . Writing could not make language more truthful or promises more binding.”5

Or as reported by one of my former students ministering in Cameroon:

For an example of the preference for oral accounts of what Jesus said and did, note what an early Christian said a century after the time of Jesus, even though by then there were written accounts of Jesus and his disciples’ lives. Papias preferred hearing over reading: “I do not believe that things out of books are as beneficial to me as things from a living and enduring voice.”7

In other words, literacy isn’t the panacea of perfect communication; never was, never will be, certainly not across all time, in all situations, for everyone. Humanity from the beginning was a society of social interaction with orality as the bedrock of interpersonal relations; thus textuality was unnecessary. (Orality refers to anything pertaining to spoken communication; textuality refers to written communication.) It was a collectivist culture in which speaking and hearing were the norm. The human brain was prewired for it; children growing up today still catch on fast. As research demonstrates, “we were never born to read.”8

Reading and writing, on the other hand, took centuries to develop . . . and takes years to acquire; some of us are still learning the art of writing. The brain actually had to rewire itself for the advanced technology. “More than any other single invention, writing has transformed human consciousness.”9 But once it did, it’s difficult to retrace the steps back into oral ways of thinking. The Western paradigm of textuality—the “default setting”—stands in the way.10 Most of us are very comfortable in our textual skin and the culture of individualism.11 We write alone, we read alone—typically.