Cavorting to Christianity
Blog / Produced by The High Calling
Words are sneaky creatures that don’t carry the proper load of meaning unless we choose them carefully. One youngster wrote in a church school: “St. Paul cavorted to Christianity. He preached holy acrimony, which is another name for marriage.”
Like spats, bustles, Capri pants, and other fashion statements, words weave in and out of style. Forty years ago, shy bookworm types were called “squirrels.” Their descendents are “nerds” or “dorks.”
My children picked up an insult from friends that shouted across the playground, “You’re a booty itches!”— both undesirable and grammatically incorrect. And it immediately went out of style at our house.
A century ago, the song “Our God is an Awesome God” would have been “Our God is an Awful God.” In the intervening years, “awful” has degenerated from “inspiring awe” to “bad, unpleasant, ugly.” Even the word “awesome” has slid from exalted heights into the mud of common teen parlance, as in “Hey, Dude—awesome jacket.”
In a world where bad means great and cool is not about temperature, it is still important to reserve God-language for God. Once, when I went to visit my aunt, she prepared a delicious meal of cornbread, tomatoes and okra, and cucumbers—all of my favorite vegetables. As she stirred and chopped and measured, I protested, saying, “Millie, you don’t have to go to all this trouble.”
She turned from the stove, wooden spoon in hand, and smiled at me. “How do you let someone know they’re special if you don’t go to the trouble?”
“Exalted.” “Most High.” “King of all kings.” “Almighty.” How do we let God know how wonderful He is if we don’t go to the trouble to find and use the most right and special words?
Questions for discussion:
• What is the most wonderful word you can think of to describe God?
• Why does it matter that we keep our God-language special?
Like spats, bustles, Capri pants, and other fashion statements, words weave in and out of style. Forty years ago, shy bookworm types were called “squirrels.” Their descendents are “nerds” or “dorks.”
My children picked up an insult from friends that shouted across the playground, “You’re a booty itches!”— both undesirable and grammatically incorrect. And it immediately went out of style at our house.
A century ago, the song “Our God is an Awesome God” would have been “Our God is an Awful God.” In the intervening years, “awful” has degenerated from “inspiring awe” to “bad, unpleasant, ugly.” Even the word “awesome” has slid from exalted heights into the mud of common teen parlance, as in “Hey, Dude—awesome jacket.”
In a world where bad means great and cool is not about temperature, it is still important to reserve God-language for God. Once, when I went to visit my aunt, she prepared a delicious meal of cornbread, tomatoes and okra, and cucumbers—all of my favorite vegetables. As she stirred and chopped and measured, I protested, saying, “Millie, you don’t have to go to all this trouble.”
She turned from the stove, wooden spoon in hand, and smiled at me. “How do you let someone know they’re special if you don’t go to the trouble?”
“Exalted.” “Most High.” “King of all kings.” “Almighty.” How do we let God know how wonderful He is if we don’t go to the trouble to find and use the most right and special words?
Questions for discussion:
• What is the most wonderful word you can think of to describe God?
• Why does it matter that we keep our God-language special?