In George Orwell’s dystopian novel, 1984, the protagonist, Winston Smith, a low-level functionary at the Ministry of Truth, has lunch one day with a philologist named Syme.  Syme is working on the Newspeak dictionary – the authoritative and approved body of language for the State of Ingsoc.  He tells Smith at one point,

“We’re destroying words – scores of them, hundreds of them, everyday.  We’re cutting the language down to the bone. …It’s a beautiful thing, the destruction of words. Of course the great wastage is in the verbs and adjectives, but there are hundreds of nouns that can be got rid of as well.  It is not only the synonyms; there are also antonyms.  After all, what justification is there for a word which is simply the opposite of some other words?  A word contains the opposite in itself.  Take ‘good’ for instance.  If you have a word like ‘good’ what need is there for a word like ‘bad’?  ‘Ungood’ will do just as well – better, because it’s exactly the opposite, which the other is not.  Or again, if you want a stronger version of ‘good’ what sense is there in having a whole string of vague useless words like ‘excellent’ and ‘splendid’ and all the rest of them?  “Plusgood’ covers the meaning, or ‘doubleplusgood’ if you want something stronger still.”         

I tell you, that’s scary stuff.  I wish I could say that’s the only place I’ve run across this way of thinking.  But it isn’t.  In my last church, my Assistant Pastor, a man twice my age, and who should have known better, advocated the same sort of thing.  “We’ve got to get rid of all these ‘churchy’ words,” he’d say.  “All those big words like justification, and sanctification and propitiation – they’re too complicated.  They’re so long.  They scare people.  We need to use simple words, small words.”  When I would respond, “I think we should just teach people those words, then they won’t find them scary,” he’d look at me blankly, and wouldn’t say anything at all.  As I think about it now he may not have been able to respond.  He may have eliminated the words from his vocabulary he could have used.

I’m joking, but only partly.  The problem with Syme and my old Assistant Pastor, who by the way is a wonderful man despite the error of his ways in this regard, is that they don’t understand the nature of language.  In a strict logical sense, there are no synonyms.  Words we think of as synonymous express subtle but important differences in meaning.  When Syme says that excellent and splendid are just vague ways of saying good he is completely wrong.  Language is inherently economical, if the subtle differences between synonymns didn’t help us express ourselves more precisely, then the words would stop being used. 

Let me give you a couple of examples.

First, let me begin with something obvious.  The other day, while talking to a friend who happens to be a professor of theology, I used the biblical word eschaton.  That’s the root word for eschatology.  My son, who happened to be listening asked me afterward what the word meant.  When I told him he said, “Well, why not just say ‘the end of the world’?”  I told him that ‘end of the world’ wasn’t a rich enough expression – it leaves out all sorts of information – like the return of Christ, and the Kingdom of God.  Eschaton doesn’t leave those ideas out.  Then, by way of example, I said to him, the word bridge brings an image to mind – but if I say, The Golden Gate Bridge – a very precise image comes to mind.

Here’s another example.  There is a huge difference between the words mistake and sin.  Yet, many people think they’re completely interchangeable.  Some preachers I’ve heard won’t even use the word sin.  But a mistake is merely an error in judgment.  When you take the wrong exit from the highway you say, ‘I made a mistake.’  There is no necessary moral content to the error – it implies that you just didn’t have all the information.  But when you say, ‘I have sinned,’ you’re really saying something.  You’re saying a whole host of things.  You’re saying: I am a morally responsible person; but you’re also saying that there is a moral law to the universe, and that there is a God to whom you are accountable, and finally, that you are guilty.” 

As you can see, mistake and sin are not interchangeable at all.  Isn’t it wonderful that a three letter word can convey so much more meaning than a seven letter word?  It is a mistake to use mistake when you mean sin.  In fact, I suspect that it may even be sinful. 

The Apostle Paul stresses the same point with Timothy when he tells him in 1 Tim. 1:13, “Follow the pattern of sound words that you have heard from me.”  He’s telling him, don’t dumb it down, don’t get creative; use the very words you heard me use, because using the right words matters.

Here’s a final thought.  Throughout the course of history conquerors have required the conquered to learn a new languages – the languages of the conquerors.  Sometimes the conquered were even forbidden to use their native tongue.  Ever wonder what happened to Welsh, or Cornish?  Now you know.  The purpose was assimilation – to reform the conquered and eliminate their old way of life.  When it comes to biblical language and the language of a godless culture my question is, who is influencing whom around here?  I, for one, intend to teach the world to speak the Christian tongue, using Christian words like justification, and sanctification and propitiation.  (Ahh, they’re beautiful words.  Don’t you just love the way they sound?)  Won’t you join me in using them?