A Word Is Worth a Thousand Pictures

The most depicted scene in art is the crucifixion of Christ; the second is his birth. This Word-become-flesh is also the God who proclaimed through Moses to the ancient world, “Make no graven images of me.” And history’s most camera-shy deity is art’s most depicted person. Go figure.

What renders this Word-made-flesh so compelling—even irresistible? That it speaks to us at the deepest levels of our need? That He is a source of comfort in chaos, light out of darkness, truth in a world of half-truths? Or is it that the Word’s words say precisely what they mean?

If Jesus speaks and no one is there to hear him, do his words make a sound? Unequivocally, “Yes!” When God spoke “light!” into the void, it filled the empty space. Scientists call that moment the Big Bang and say that with super-sensitive, high-tech instruments, its echoes can still be heard. We in the church believe the echoes resound every Sunday from pulpits, and that their source is in the pages of scripture. This Word that was present in the beginning and came to us in the person of Jesus Christ resonates still in our lives today—it still bangs.

A principle of rhetoric, the study of the effective use of words (once a mainstay of classical and religious education) is that the eloquence of a man’s words is a measure of his soul. The phrase, “He is a man of his word” carries some of this original meaning. Jesus said as much when he admonished his disciples to take no oaths but simply to be people of their word.

As human beings, we carry the image of God. As Christians, we carry his Word into the world. In the world, too filled with lies (especially in this political season of jargon and doublespeak), our call is to speak truth plainly—to make our words simple and clear, to make our “yeses” mean “yes,” and our “noes” mean “no.” Even our difficult promises are to be kept, and even our difficult truths are to be spoken.

My wife teaches seventh graders, a demographic not known for verbal sophistication. They are young enough to say what they mean and mean what they say, even if it hurts. But their honesty, Jenna assures me, is refreshing—and arresting. And maybe that’s the point: in a world increasingly dulled by gray shades of truth, Christians speaking the plain truth of Christ’s life and love can restore the world’s color. Perhaps the Word alone is worth a thousand images. And maybe that is our great commission: to paint the world with the Word.