Ch 2 Language to Inform or to Communicate, to Discourse or to Connect

As you stand ‘in front of’ the Bible seeking to know and understand God, you likely have been susceptible to want to get ‘behind this text’ in order to gain this level in your learning and education.[1] You are not alone. Many have pursued this path, guided by historical criticism and linguistics. Theological as well as political studies have been influenced by a linguistic focus; and such a linguistic turn also has become central in the writing of social history.[2] What emerges in this process is the centrality of language and how it is used to construct information, discourse and even thought. Those engaged with the Bible also have to enter into a central focus on language, yet by taking only a qualified (if not chastened) turn to linguistics.

Obviously, in order for individuals or groups to have any mutual exchange and further interaction, they must share the same language. This shared language can be verbal and/or nonverbal (as in body language), yet with expressions and signs common to each other in order to have that exchange and interaction. On the other hand, even persons or groups who share the same language can have difficulty exchanging, interacting and being on the same level of understanding.

When I was in the U.S. Air Force, I was exposed to different parts of the U.S. and the world, which until then I had only virtual awareness of. This exposure brought direct experiences of these differences, which clarified and corrected my virtual ones. I recall vividly when I became friends with a colleague who was from the deep South of the U.S. We shared the same language, but being from the heart of the Midwest, Chicago, there were numerous times that I either didn’t understand his southern dialect or misunderstood his connotations of the same words. Since we both had played football, we shared that common bond; yet, making ongoing connection in general was not without difficulty, and a challenge we both had to work on linguistically. (By the way, he shifted more to a Midwesterner than I did to a Southerner—a “victory” for the English language.)

In the Bible we can observe similar difficulty and challenges with language, as well as give testimony of our similar personal experiences with the Word. Perhaps, not surprisingly, you may feel that you and the Word don’t share the same language, and there may be more truth to that than is apparent. To highlight this reality, consider that the Jewish Jesus said directly to Jewish believers in the words cited above, “Why is my language not clear to you?” Certainly his words were not foreign to them, but the meaning of his language was uncommon to them. In other words, though they shared the same language expressions, they didn’t share the same language signs. And what is underlying this difficulty is the factual reality that essentially they didn’t have the same language as the Word to “know the Truth” (Jn 8:32). This paradoxical linguistic contrast led to their interpretation conflict in misunderstanding the Word (8:33-41). Critical to this process, what underlies interpretation conflicts with the Word are language barriers generated, erected and sustained by reductionism (8:42-47).

How reductionism is at the heart of interpretation conflicts emerged from the beginning; and it is indispensable to understand the language barriers reductionism creates, if we are to get past our current level of biblical interpretation and deeper into the Word’s realm of connection.

The text of the Bible was written in Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek, yet this literary fact does not necessarily define the composition of Scripture and the language distinguished by the Word. An abundance of exegesis and word studies of the biblical languages, not to mention critical studies, have accumulated a wealth of data (cf. Eccl 12:12) that have not progressed biblical studies with the significance to answer Jesus’ above question. This is the type of learning and education that Paul cautioned Timothy not to be misled and shaped by (2 Tim 3:7). The problem yet to be adequately resolved by churches and the academy is twofold: (1) understanding the nature of the Word’s language, and (2) addressing the reductionism that is the barrier to this understanding.

The biblical text is expressed in various genres, which is helpful to know for discerning what is being expressed. This knowledge, however, neither accesses the original-original composition of the Word nor insures an understanding of the composition in its original language—that is, beyond and deeper than its Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek wording. The specific composition of the Word doesn’t clearly emerge and fully unfold from its general expression unless that composition is perceived (read and listened to) in what is truly its original language. Stated briefly: The original language antecedes the biblical languages and gets us to the nature of the Word’s language, which is essential for understanding the Word.

Jesus used parables to express various ideas, yet his thoughts behind them unfolded only in the nature of his language. This was problematic for those who heard him, even for his disciples. When the disciples asked him what a particular parable meant, he told them to their surprise: “To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of God; but to others I speak in parables, so that in spite of ‘looking they may not perceive, and listening they may not understand’” (Lk 8:9-10). Jesus’ words didn’t guarantee that the disciples understood him; on the contrary, they frequently didn’t understand the words from Jesus. For example, after his imperative to “Let these words sink into your ears,” he revealed vulnerably what was to happen to him. “But they did not understand his words; its meaning was concealed from them, so they could not perceived it” (Lk 9:44-45). Given how Jesus distinguished the perception of his disciples moments earlier, in contrast to others’ lack, how do we explain the disciples lack and thus loss?

The Word’s language is not readily apparent from these interactions. The clarity of the Word is illuminated when the Word’s original language is distinguished “In the beginning” (Jn 1:1; Gen 1:1), which isn’t the context paid attention to commonly in biblical interpretations. John’s Gospel is crucial for defining the Word’s horizon (main context) in complete context, so that the gospel is whole and neither reduced nor fragmented by a Word out of context.

In the beginning the Creator constituted the persons (no matter the gender) in the primordial garden with an irreducible ontology, an irreplaceable epistemology and a nonnegotiable relationship, the function of which distinguished the image and likeness of the whole of God (integrally incorporating the Word and the Spirit). Those defining words from the Creator (Gen 1:28-30; 2:16-17), expressed in an historical or allegorical context, were either given to human persons to inform them of the parameters of their human function; or they were shared with those persons to communicate distinctly the terms for the relationship between them and the Creator. If the words communicated the terms for relationship together, then these relational terms could only be distinguished when composed in relational language. Anything less than relational language would be ambiguous, elusive, and simply open to variable interpretation of those relational terms; the consequence would be to substitute the Word’s relational terms with other (notably human) terms to define the relationship. The terms for most relationships are open for negotiation, at least in theory. The Word’s relational terms, however, are nonnegotiable, and this truth has been ignored, denied or simply not understood by God’s people since this beginning—with Christians having assumed the most negotiating posture in their practice of faith, though not overtly as a Rule of Faith.

This consequence evolved in the primordial garden from the beginning when the question was raised “Did God really say that?” (Gen 3:1) What needs to be understood in this encounter is the linguistic dynamic that on the surface innocently challenged God’s relational language. But then, what evolved is the substitution of an apparently reasonable alternate language to be definitive instead of relational language. How so?

First of all, the nature of the language expressing God’s words was changed from the relational language originally used to communicate to an alternate language used merely to inform (Gen 3:4-5). The shift to the primary focus on transmitting information over communicating relationship then opened the door to two major linguistic shifts of the words from God:

1. A selective process of omitting, neglecting, disregarding, or denying God’s words, albeit in a manner that seems reasonable and not irrational, or even merely benign.

2. The deconstruction of the words from God and their reinterpretation in an alternate language speaking “like God,” which both informs (read misinforms) and serves the self-interests/concerns of the interpreter (as in 3:6).

These major shifts transposed ‘the words from God in relational language’ to ‘the words of God in referential language’, and thereby altered the nature of the Word’s original language. The consequence for this beginning that still prevails today is:

The use of referential language that is unable to compose relational terms in order to communicate but is limited only to inform—the narrow transmission of information—therefore a language that cannot understand the composition of the words from Word no matter the wealth of information (even about “good and evil”) processing the words of God it can transmit to speak for God (as if “like God”).

The genius of reductionism is its reasonable appearance in questioning the words from God. After all, don’t we read the Bible because we want to know if God said ‘that’? In reductionism’s subtle challenge, however, its linguistic shift moves from what God said to what God really meant by ‘that’. And it would be a serious mistake for our engagement with the Bible to defer (perhaps bow) to the seeming innocence of this shift. By focusing solely on God’s intention, the actual words from God were only used for reference, whereby the real meaning of God’s words was opened to conjecture, the bias of assumptions, even to scholarly speculation—as pervades the academy and preoccupies its education. The hermeneutic door was opened to diversity of interpretation, a Biblepedia of information, based on an epistemic realm reduced from the original language of the words from God to a fragmentary language only referring to the words of God.

Substituting referential language for relational language has changed the nature of language, which then also alters the purpose of language. This is the linguistic condition from the beginning that composes the narrative of the human condition. Sadly, yet not surprising, we seem to be unaware of or appear to not understand the nature of the language that God uses and that we use instead—the purpose and goal of reductionism since the beginning. That’s why Jesus clarified his question opening this chapter with the definitive response: “Because you are unable to hear the language I speak and the relational words I say. You identify with the father of reductionism and you defer to its desires” (Jn 8:44, NIV).

In Jesus’ paradigm for hearing/listening to the Word, applying also to reading the Word, the following are to be further understood as axiomatic:

When Jesus illuminated the presence, influence and consequences of reductionism, he was not only clarifying our existing condition but also addressing what needs to be corrected. Our initial discussion of reductionism only introduces us to the scope of this prevailing reality and its workings. We also need to understand the breadth and depth of its prevalence.

From the beginning, the dynamic workings of reductionism have put into living motion (not virtual) the human (including our) condition. In the dynamic of the human condition, there has evolved a reconstituted anthropology (including our theological anthropology) of distinctly reduced human ontology and function, which is fragmented from the whole ontology and function in the image and likeness of God. This reduction is evident whenever persons’ identity and function are defined from outer in rather than from inner out—as evolved in Genesis 3:7 in contrast and conflict with Genesis 2:25. At this stage of this evolving condition, Christians above all need to embrace the Truth (as composed by the Word, Jn 8:31-32) to live as subject persons from inner out, who no longer have to exist as mere outer-in objects of reductionism. The relational language of these words from Jesus clarify that persons as subjects exercise free will and hold themselves accountable for their choices; persons as objects, on the other hand, abdicate their will and then by default defer to reductionism, conforming to its defining terms. Therefore, we need to recognize unmistakably and to understand entirely:

Reductionism by its nature routinely imposes a narrowed perceptual-interpretive mindset that reduces our lens with the following consequences:

The perceptual-interpretive mindset of reductionism evolved in Israel’s theology and practice from the OT into the NT, which composed a referential theology and formed an outer-in practice that were critiqued initially by the prophets (e.g. Isa 29:13; Eze 33:30-32) and further by Jesus (Mk 7:6-8).

Referentialization of the Word is the most significant, and least understood, consequence emerging from the dynamic of reductionism. Moreover, this dynamic has evolved, has been long established and continues to extend itself in human contexts, even as the norm for the common notion of ‘the common good’. This addresses us urgently to the globalization of reductionism occurring today, and its defining influence that is forming the global church and its diversity of persons and relationships into a reduced ontology and function.[3] This is the common theological anthropology that is assumed with referential language.

These axioms are essential to understand in our theology, to address in our practice, and to apply in our theology and practice. The alternative is to be rendered to the “idols” of both God and our persons erected in our theology and practice (Ps 115:8; 135:18).

Given the definitive nature of the words from God’s language and the determinative purpose of the Word’s clarification and correction, it is crucial for our theological anthropology in particular and theology in general to understand a distinction that is not interchangeable.[4] Despite the indispensable place of the creation context to complete the context composing the narrative for human beings, it is insufficient, inadequate and incorrect for theological anthropology simply to reference the context of the Creator. As Subject, the Creator’s context is not a referential context; and Creator-Subject’s creative and communicative actions (as well as salvific) are enacted only in relational terms, never referential terms that diminish, minimalize or make secondary the primacy of God’s relational design, purpose and function. In other words, God by nature acts simply in relational terms, which we quite simply often overlook or ignore. There is a basis for this.

The relational terms composing these relational actions can only be distinguished in Creator-Subject’s relational context, and not a referential context in which this relational significance becomes elusive, gets obscured, or is lost. This points to the underlying use of language. The use of relational terms and its composing relational language function for the primary purpose of communication in relationship. In contrast, and often in conflict, the use of referential terms and its composing referential language function for the purpose of transmitting information, which is only secondary at best to the primary function and purpose of relationship. Essentially, on the one hand, it can be said that referential language was not “designed” for the further development of qualitative communication in relationship but, on the other hand, in reality it purposely went in the opposite direction that takes us away from qualitative relational connection. Historically, the referential language of prose evolved after poetry, and early poetry was sung, the qualitative significance of which was basic to communication in relationship and not the mere transmission of information.^{^[5]} For further consideration, Iain McGilchrist locates this qualitative process in the function of the right brain hemisphere. This qualitative function of the right hemisphere, and its related view of the world, is in contrast to the quantitative reduction of words to the referential language of prose by the left brain hemisphere for its function not of communication in relationship but to merely make discourse about something.^{^[6]}

This further makes explicit the non-interchangeable terms composing the distinction between relational language and referential language. We need to understand this distinction to identify the language used by God and that of theological discourse because the two languages have distinctly different levels of significance, if not meaning. That is to say, language matters, and our working language will mean the difference between whole-ly knowing and understanding God and the human person, or merely having fragmentary knowledge and referential information about them. And we cannot boast of the former on the basis of having the latter, no matter the quantity we possess (cf. Jer 9:23-24). Jesus’ above paradigm is axiomatic for our theology and practice, and thus pivotal for their significance.

Moreover, language matters because language both forms thought and makes functional any thought (notably human consciousness) antecedent to language. It has become increasingly apparent to modern scientific research that the language we speak shapes the way we see the world and even the way we think (not necessarily producing thought).^{^[7]} This points to the function of language not merely as a means of expression but also as a template imposing a constraint limiting what we see and the way we think. In his study of neuroscience, McGilchrist states about language:

It does not itself bring the landscape of the world in which we live into being. What it does, rather, is shape that landscape by fixing the ‘counties’ into which we divide it, defining which categories or types of entities we see there—how we carve it up.

In the process, language helps some things stand forward but by the same token makes others recede…. What language contributes is to firm up certain particular ways of seeing the world and give fixity to them. This has its good side, and its bad. It aids consistency of reference over time and space. But it can also exert a restrictive force on what and how we think. It represents a more fixed version of the world: it shapes, rather than grounds, our thinking.^{^[8]}

This modern awareness provides us with some understanding of the dynamic of referential language—how it works and what effect it has—that was set in motion from the primordial garden. So, what do you perceive as the purpose for the words from Creator God to the persons in the primordial garden? Was the purpose to transmit important information, or to communicate vital relational terms? Given that specific purpose, does that purpose engage those persons as subjects or merely as objects—that is, as subject-persons to be involved in relationship together, or as objects merely to conform to what God said?

The origination of referential language evolved as God’s relational language was narrowed down and God’s command (sawah, Gen 2:16) was redefined from communication in God’s relational terms to the transmission of information in referential terms. Detaching the command from Subject God (or de-relationalizing it) removed God’s words from their primary purpose only for relationship together. The command was clearly God’s communication for the wholeness of their relationship together, not the mere transmission of information (the purpose of referential language) for humans to know merely what to do (the focus of referential terms). This inaugural referentialization of God’s words (command) was extended later by the people of Israel whenever they transposed the commandments from God’s relational language to referential language, and consequently shaped the covenant relationship to merely conforming in narrow referential terms—essentially de-relationalizing the covenant from ongoing relationship with Subject God, thus rendering both God and themselves to mere objects.

From the primordial garden to the Law to the teachings of the Word, if the language you use is referential language, then what is the purpose you get from your interpretations; and what significance does that purpose have to God?

In the nature of God’s relational language, the only purpose that God has, enacts, and fulfills is to communicate with persons for relationship together, not for their information to conform to, and therefore for their inner-out involvement in the primacy of vulnerable relationship together—reciprocal relationship together face to face, person to person. Moreover, this primacy of relationship is constituted by persons not subtly defined and determined from outer in as those in reduced ontology and function, but only the reciprocal relationship involved vulnerably with persons from inner out constituted in whole ontology and function. When the nature of the language in use has lost its relational integrity, that language has compromised its purpose for the persons engaged. The unavoidable consequence is that that language either has no significant purpose or is simply used as an end in itself. Referential language fulfills either consequence in its assumed purpose; but then, that is the nature of referential language as conjointly composed by reductionism and propagated by its counter-relational workings (as Jesus clarified and corrected, Jn 8:44-45).

If we understand the nature of language, then whatever way we read the Bible, engage Scripture, or listen to the Word should always evoke our concern for the purpose of the language before us. Is this language to inform me, or to communicate with me? Is God merely engaged in theological discourse, or deeply involved to make relational connection with me? How we define this purpose is contingent on the language God uses. Accordingly, our understanding of the language composing the Word will determine whether we have been merely informed by the words of God, or we have been relationally communicated with by the words from God. The outcome we will take away from this vital concern is the extent of knowing and understanding God, or at least what we think we know and understand about God.

Like the language difficulty I experienced with my southern friend about our English, having the same linguistic expressions doesn’t guarantee that understanding will take place. What Jesus illuminated in the above interaction is that there are unavoidable language barriers preventing understanding; and that until these language barriers are removed there will be interpretive conflicts and impasses in understanding. This problem is analogous to marriage conflicts, which may require the spouses to have marriage counseling to get past the language barriers that they either don’t understand or are reluctant to face. In such situations counseling is not merely a suggestion but a need.

Subtle language barriers also emerge in the common use of technology today and the level of involvement it generates that diminishes relationships, as noted above. Users have not understood the nature of such language barriers and have been reluctant to face them because of an underlying addiction to this technology. This addiction has evolved similarly to the current opioid addiction crisis in the U.S. Opioid addicts may have initially used painkillers for legitimate needs, but soon found themselves entrenched in its use as an end in itself. Compounding this addiction is the pharmaceutical industry, which has promoted opioid use despite knowing its consequences for users. This condition is accelerated by doctors’ prescription abuses. Yet, both for users and developers, these current conditions help point out the nature of language barriers that is not understood or is resisted to face up to, and thus may even willfully impose, sustain and promote language barriers on purpose.

Language barriers are a “natural” occurrence in human relations, yet their existence is evidence of the nature of the human condition. The current political divisiveness dominating the U.S. is simply a demonstration of this human condition, and the language barriers of identity politics can be summed in a single word: toxic. Toxic is the single “word of the year” chosen for 2018 by the editors at the Oxford English Dictionary; Dictionary.com chose “misinformation,” which is certainly a primary medium of toxic language. This word describes the language dominating this past year and the obvious purpose it has fulfilled in its use. The barriers created, however, go beyond the use of such language. As science has discovered, the language we speak also shapes both the way we see the world and even the way we think. This reality of our minds helps illuminate the nature of our human condition and the language barriers evolving from it to determine human relations, even in relation to God.

Certainly, the political parties in the U.S. would benefit from “marriage” counseling to get past their language barriers. But this outcome depends on the willingness of the parties to be open to each other. This openness involves a vulnerability both to one’s own person and to the other person. The same dynamic of vulnerableness is necessary to get past language barriers with the Word. This process is distinguished in a key interaction with the Word (Jn 3:1-11).

Jesus had been communicating intensively the words from God, which was at the heart of his actions and underlying his “miraculous signs” (semion, 3:2). Yet, the theological trajectory and relational path composed by his language expressions were not understood by this biblical scholar (a Pharisee and member of the Sanhedrin), because Jesus’ language signs could not be processed by Nicodemus’ perceptual-interpretive mindset (3:4,9-10). What Jesus clarified was Nicodemus’ prevailing referential language, which created this language barrier preventing Nicodemus from understanding. Moreover, Jesus had to correct Nicodemus’ narrow thinking formed by his referential language in order to overcome the language barrier between them. Fortunately, it was apparent as his life unfolded (Jn 7:50-51; 19:39) that Nicodemus was neither reluctant to be corrected nor unwilling to make his person vulnerable to Jesus’ whole person. Therefore, Nicodemus entered the Word’s realm of connection to be changed from inner out—the transformation in relational language that is not distinguished in the common words of “born again” in referential language.

Language barriers by nature and on purpose subtly pervade the Christian community, distinctly shaping both relationship with God and relationships with each other either without relational significance or in non-relational terms. On the one hand, this is not surprising because this existing (and still evolving) condition is the ingenious workings of reductionism; on the other hand, Christians can and should expect more reconciliation since this is the stated outcome for the gospel composed by the Word (as in Col 1:21-23; Eph 2:14-18). Even though this composition of the Word has been used to formulate doctrines of salvation, which most Christians subscribe to, has this doctrinal language (no matter how dogmatic) significantly reduced the language barriers still existing in relationships both with God and each other? If not, why this disparity between our theology and practice?

In consideration of your thinking and what formed it, how do you perceive the book of Deuteronomy and interpret its main composition with the sum details of God’s law? You would likely see Deuteronomy as the Book of Law and interpret its composition as the Rule of Law by which God’s people need to live, fulfilling its duties and obligations in obedience to God. This is the most prominent perception and interpretation, yet it emerges from a perceptual-interpretive mindset that in reality creates a language barrier with these words from God—as the scholar Nicodemus would testify. Again, the language we use will be the Deuteronomy we get; and the above perception and interpretation evolve from referential language, which, to repeat emphatically, formed the perceptual-interpretive mindset establishing this language barrier in order to frustrate the language purpose of God, thereby promoting misinformation in our theology and practice.

With the nature of God’s relational language, the book of Deuteronomy is composed definitively to fulfill the language purpose essential for the words from God. Deuteronomy is not a book transmitting important information about the Law, despite the fact that it details what obedience to God looks like. On the contrary, the relational language of Deuteronomy in primary function communicates the words from God, specifically in order to share the relational terms (not mere law) necessary to have depth (as in whole) of relationship together integrally with God and with each other. Without God’s relational terms, relationship together will not emerge and unfold as the relational reality, though referential language certainly has informed us of its evolution as a virtual reality. For God’s language purpose, therefore, the book of Deuteronomy is uncommonly composed as the ultimate love story (highlighted in Dt 4:37; 7:8; 10:15; 23:5; 33:3,12), that is, the Book of Love (not Law) to fulfill God’s only language purpose:

The irreducible and nonnegotiable covenant of love (Dt 7:9) for relationship together in wholeness—the relational language and terms which compose and thereby distinguish the nature of tamiym that emerged in Genesis 17:1 (cf. Dt 18:9,13), unfolded in whole ontology and function with the Shema (Dt 6:4-6), and is sustained in face-to-face relationship with God’s definitive blessing (Num 6:24-25).

Whether the focus is Deuteronomy or any other part of Scripture, the relational nature and purpose of the words from God elude those using referential language. And there will always be this language barrier as long as their perceptual-interpretive mindset is formed by the reductionist ingenuity of referential language. Given this prevailing condition underlying much theology and practice, how do you assess your thinking and what formed it? Like Nicodemus, the clarification and correction by the Word is always available to those who are willing to be vulnerable with their person and thus change—which was a simple yet difficult process to embrace by the disciples to address the barrier in their thinking (Lk 9:44-45; Mk 9:33-34).

Love is a universal theme in most languages of the world. The nature and purpose of love language, however, are not universal. What the word means and how it is used varies between languages, including among those with the same language. These differences also exist among Christians. While such differences would be compatible with a postmodern perceptual-interpretive framework, they are incompatible with God’s language of love.

The pivotal words found in John 3:16 were not part of Jesus’ interaction with Nicodemus but added to it later. The evangelist John wanted it to be included in Jesus’ realm of connection with Nicodemus, in order that these pivotal words would not be taken out of Jesus’ relational language and context and merely referenced as important. Yet, this reduction is what has happened to the language of John 3:16. How much information have you seen about the words of God’s love, and how much discourse have you heard about God’s love? Perhaps, also, Christians using a Bible Dictionary would choose ‘love’ as “the word of the year” for eternity, by referencing John 3:16.

In referential language, love is a word, concept, ideal and thought, the expressions of which do not distinguish the nature and purpose of love in God’s relational language. And the thinking formed by referential language about love subconsciously erects a language barrier with the love words from God, even while the thoughts could be focused on the love words of God. This language disparity is the result of a perceptual-interpretive mindset formed by the workings of reductionism in their counter-relational nature and purpose. The basic issue in the language of love and the critical workings in its disparity are illuminated in a defining interaction that Jesus had with Peter, which not surprisingly is found only in the Gospel of John (Jn 21:15-22).

Since language both expresses thought and forms thinking, the thoughts on love either expressed or not expressed in this interaction are crucial to understand for the composition of love language. It will be also important to realize the following: discerning whether the thinking about love anteceded its expression, and thus made assumptions about love biased by a particular perceptual-interpretive mindset.

Peter didn’t represent the model disciple but a disciple-in-making, who ongoingly required the Word’s clarification and correction. In this post-resurrection encounter with Jesus, Peter is surprised and taken aback by the words from the Word—namely by the word love (both agapē and phileo in their common language). “Do you love me?” This question is highly visible for Christians, yet what is distinguished in it and addressed by it have had little if any perception by Christians. What is distinguished is the Word’s language of love and what is addressed is the alternate language used by Peter.

Peter’s first and second response to the Word’s penetrating question was simply “Yes…I love you.” Peter’s love language is not apparent in his answer, as with most expressions of “I love you” by Christians. There was no ambiguity in his words—a personal and direct I-statement—which he qualified each time with “Lord, you know that.” Indeed, the Word knew well the language Peter used and was fully aware of Peter’s thinking composing his words. On this basis, the Word asked a third time using a synonym of love (phileo) to connect with the same love word Peter used in his responses. The Word, however, wasn’t changing his love language in order to be compatible with Peter’s love language. What the Word desired in his question is to circumvent the language barrier between them, so that Peter would question his thinking in his responses and reconsider the significance of his language of love. In other words, the language of love we use is the extent of relationship together we get.

This interaction points to three basic messages that underlie the language used in any exchange between persons. These three messages are not usually explicitly stated by the speaker but are definitely implied expressions in the exchange (discussed further in chap. 3). They are specifically expressed to indicate the following:

These messages qualify what is stated in the language used in an exchange, thus they are important to interpret for more complete understanding of the speaker’s statements. Based on these basic messages, what are Jesus and Peter expressing in each message that qualifies what they are saying?

To each of Peter’s three responses the Word communicated what, not surprisingly, has been commonly misinterpreted and thus misapplied. The Word didn’t transmit information to Peter to establish the purpose of love as serving him. Serving has become the benchmark for what Christians should do to demonstrate their love for God as well as others, which does not account for what Jesus expressed about his person, Peter’s person and their relationship. Yet, this ideal is what the Word’s love language is clarifying and correcting, so that the nature and purpose of love will be understood and enacted only according to the Word’s relational language. For the Word, the function of serving is less about what to do and mostly involves how to live—namely, as persons in the primacy of relationship together. In this interaction, the response of serving is first and foremost integrated in the Word’s relational imperative “Follow me” (Jn 21:19,22). Earlier, the Word made definitive the paradigm for all who serve: “follow me, my whole person, and where my person is, there will my servant also be relationally involved in person-to-person relationship” (Jn 12:26). In this relational imperative, the Word communicated the language of love that he embodied and enacted vulnerably with his whole person, with nothing less and no substitutes.

The Word’s relational language of love is never about giving primary function to ‘what to do’, but always foremost distinguishing the vulnerable relational involvement of the person in the primacy of relationship first with God and then with others. This distinguished relational involvement of love is integral for the person (both the Word’s and ours) to be whole in ontology and function. A reduced ontology and function makes primary what to do, and it is on this reductionist basis that Christian identity and function have been commonly defined and determined—just as Peter demonstrated by his discipleship.

Therefore, the love language of the Word is essential irreducibly and is integral nonnegotiably for composing the language of discipleship. Without this language of love, language barriers with the Word remain—which Peter also demonstrated in this defining interaction (Jn 21:19-22) that expressed something different (focused subtly on the secondary) about his person and Jesus’ person (both not at the level of the whole person), and their relationship (less depth of involvement), that is, his basic messages to qualify his words. The consequence of language barriers is inevitable and thus unavoidable:

The nature of the Word’s relational language will not be embraced and the purpose of the Word’s relational language will not be experienced for the relational reality of knowing and understanding the whole-ly God in vulnerable relationship together.

And the differences in their basic messages help us distinguish the language barrier preventing relational connection, involvement and thus this relational outcome.

The language of love interacts with sin in a reflexive dynamic to compose and/or be composed by the language of sin. This interaction can be either integrating or fragmenting, depending on the language used. In the beginning the language of love was communicated, and from the beginning the alternate language of sin was transmitted. Ever since, the two languages have collided, competed and controlled the significance of the other, seeking to be either the dominant language or the definitive language for each other in order to compose the Word and its theology and practice for everyday life.

This language interaction is a simple dynamic, but its reflexive workings in everyday life make it complex. Moreover, it is compounded when Christians don’t listen carefully to the language used; and listening to the language of sin is difficult for hard-of-hearing Christians.

The most common understanding of sin is disobeying God and the commandments, breaking God’s law, and related moral failure. This language of sin is insufficient understanding to be integral with what is primary in God’s language of love. As just discussed, what is primary for God’s love language is not ‘what to do’ but ‘how to be involved in relationship’. Certainly, disobedience is not how to be involved in relationship with God but it is insufficient to account for and to be accountable to the primary of how involvement with God is defined (as Jesus clarified and corrected with Peter). If sin is limited to disobedience, this narrowed-down language reduces what sin is and thus what is primary to God.

From the beginning in the primordial garden, the primary issue was not disobeying God’s specific command about the tree (as commonly perceived) but the following:

1. Reducing God’s relational language communicating (not merely commanding) vital relational terms with those persons down to referential language transmitting mere information to them (albeit relevant information)—as they embraced in Genesis 3:2-5.

2. Using referential language to fragment the words from God selectively to serve their self-concern/interest—as they enacted in 3:6.

3. Reducing their ontology and function from the inner-out wholeness in the image and likeness of God to an ontology and function composed from outer in—as they embodied in 3:7.

4. Reducing relationship together from what is primary in God’s love language (as initiated in 2:18) to a fragmentary relational condition lacking relational connection—as they practiced in 3:8-12.

What evolved from this beginning is reductionism and its counter-relational workings. When this is understood, the language of sin is composed as nothing less than sin as reductionism. The sin of reductionism always counters and is in conflict with the whole of God and the wholeness created in God’s image and likeness. As evidenced in the primordial garden, the trajectory of reductionism tries to intercept the trajectory of the Word in the human context, so that its whole is fragmented and no longer whole. In this often subtle process, however, recognizing the sin of reductionism in its everyday workings is a continuous challenge, because it is not commonly apparent even to Christians. Reductionism alters the face of sin with the appearance of “good and evil” as if to be known “like God” (Gen 3:5); and this critical shift in the language of sin generates illusions of this knowledge and simulations in its practice—encompassing the theology and practice of many Christians (cf. 2 Cor 11:13-15).

This alternate language of sin seeks to dominate the language of love in order to compose the words of God and its theology and practice in the reduced meaning and significance of referential language, whereby the relational language communicating the words from God is rendered silent. More subtly, to maintain this language barrier the alternate language of sin submerging reductionism forms the perceptual-interpretive mindset that makes assumptions and imposes biases of epistemological illusions and ontological simulations, thereby appearing reasonable for everyday life. This reality challenges, if not confronts, us to listen carefully and examine our language of sin.

From the beginning the scope of referential language has been ubiquitous. As the primary medium for the transmission of reductionism, it has permeated every context and level of human life. Since the emergence of referential language, the dynamic of its influence and workings has permeated even human development (including the brain) along with its primary purpose to construct substitute developments in theology. As discussed, referential language is fragmentary and disembodies the Word into parts (e.g. teachings, doctrine), which it attempts to aggregate into some unity or whole (e.g. in a systematic or biblical theology). This fragmentation and disembodying are further evident in textual criticism (historical, form, literary), which embeds us in the secondary without understanding the primary (as defined by God and not human reason). For George Steiner, this secondary critical reflection is the interpretive crisis that results in the loss of God’s presence—a condition he identifies as ‘a Secondary City’.[10] More critically, the use of referential language in the quest for certainty (e.g. in foundationalism and philosophical theology), which presumably would more accurately describe and represent the Word (e.g. in propositionalism and criticism), cannot be more than self-referencing, inconsistent and incomplete. That is, this is the consequence once it disembodies the Word and de-relationalizes Subject God, and hence disengages from the Word’s relational context and process vulnerably disclosing the whole of God, the whole-ly Trinity. This is the counter-relational workings of reductionism that subtly detaches God’s theological trajectory from its integral relational path, which invariably results in disconnecting from the realm of connection distinguishing God’s vulnerable presence and intimate involvement. This reality has not gone away or been diminished, notably in our theology and practice.

This disconnection has been amplified in the modern world.[11] With the wave of technology sweeping over the globe, the internet and social media have amplified communication to increasing quantitative levels that is shrinking the world and reshaping its cultures in how persons behave. The heightened intensity in this new(er) process of human engagement creates “noise” (too much activity, overstimulation, information overload, overly distracted brains), which significantly has reduced both the quality of our listening and the depth of our relational connections. This impact occurs not only in individualistic cultures but also in collectivist cultures (such as in East Asia) as the digital age takes hold—causing, for example, China to anxiously enforce strong constraints on internet usage to control access that could result in political consequences. Whatever the exposure and response to cyberspace, whether in the global North or South, there is and has been a growing disconnect in relationships as persons become further fragmented.^{^[12]}

Yet, there is more than technology that is causing changes in human behavior. There are deeper areas of human life that we need to listen to, which engage us beyond technology. Underlying the shape and reshaping of culture are deeper influences and causes for either individualistic cultures or collectivist cultures, some of which they have in common. For example, neuroscientist Robert Sapolsky reports on studies showing that what region persons live in a particular country can alter how a person thinks contrary to their culture. This is demonstrated in a specific context by how rice farmers in China epitomize their collectivist culture, whereas wheat farmers in China live as in an individualistic culture characteristic of the West—not due to technology or Western influence but from the structure of each farming system. The main point Sapolsky highlights in this “is simply to make us marvel at the subtlety of the factors that shape us.”^{^[13]} These subtle factors keep pointing to reductionism.

Beyond technology, and apart from its noise in our lives, we need to listen carefully and pay attention to the subtle factors that shape us. The most consequential factors are those that reduce the quality of human life, most notably by fragmenting persons and relationships, both of which have resulted from technological engagement yet have more subtle causal factors than that. The most subtle factor converging with the global church to shape its theology and practice, and thereby to reduce the quality of its life and fragment persons and relationships embodying the church, is reductionism and its counter-relational workings; and this applies to the academy as well. Perhaps the internet and social media engagement are only its most apparent symptom. What distinguishes the global church, however, is not currently apparent, because only the church’s persons and relationships together in whole ontology and function composing whole theology and practice can distinguish the global church from the subtlety of reduced ontology and function and fragmentary theology and practice shaped by reductionism. The subtlety of reduced and/or fragmentary factors shaping us—notably defining persons and determining relationships with a reduced theological anthropology and an incomplete gospel—is never apparent unless we listen carefully and pay attention to the subtle presence of reductionism and understand its subtle influence. This requires knowing the language of sin in use and understanding its significance.

Listening carefully could be more problematic for global North Christians, whose individualistic cultures and Western functional dominance and theological prominence imply ‘speaking over listening’. At the same time, paying attention could be problematic for global South Christians, whose cultural lens may make too many assumptions that readily accept and thus easily ignore subtleties. Evil, for example, would likely draw the attention of global South Christians more than their counterparts in the North, yet the subtlety of reductionism could readily be accepted or ignored (e.g. as attributing it to the spirit world, even variations of magic). Contextual differences and variations must be accounted for in theology and practice. Simon Chan points in this direction to make a reasonable case for grassroots theology in Asian Christianity.^{^[14]} Yet, unless it is understood what persons (at whatever level) in a particular culture listen to, and what is paid attention to or ignored and why, it is problematic knowing ‘what shapes who’ and ‘who shapes what’. Without making clear the subtlety of these distinctions in the language of sin used, any theology and practice is unable to be distinguished beyond the common shaped by the surrounding context—in spite of good grass-roots intentions (discussed further in chap. 4).

This human condition in general and our human condition as Christians in particular exist until clarified and corrected by the words from God’s language of love—as the Word embodied, enacted and continues to palpably communicate whole-ly in relational language. As we listen to the Word unfolding in his theological trajectory and relational path, we cannot ignore but must also listen to reductionism. That is, because of the nature of reductionism we cannot overlook paying acute attention to its easily overlooked trajectory and path subtly evolving in our midst. Reductionism’s trajectory and path are functioning parallel to the Word’s, seeking opportunities to intercept the Word’s trajectory and path in order to counter the Word. Therefore, reductionism is always present along with the presence of the Word and is unavoidable as a recurring issue in theology and practice (cf. Lk 4:13). Conversely, as we listen intently to sin as reductionism, we cannot ignore but must also deeply listen to the Word in relational language and pay close attention to the relational Word’s uncommon theological trajectory and whole relational path, which are integral for our interpretations of the Word from God. The whole-ly Word in relational terms unfolds in our midst in the language of God’s family love to clarify and correct our reductionism; therefore, the Word’s presence and involvement are always interacting with reductionism’s presence and integrally focused on confronting its influence and counter-relational work—that is, always interacting and integral in relational terms to counter the language of sin in referential terms. Simply put, we cannot listen carefully to one without listening to the other.

The alternate language of sin without reductionism is incompatible with the Word, and its counterpart of good (as in “good and evil,” Gen 3:5) without wholeness is incongruent, as the Word clarifies and corrects. Yet, we could pay partial attention to the Word in our theology and practice and still ignore reductionism. This was the practice of Jesus’ disciples that subtly put them on a different relational path in their discipleship, with the relational consequence of not knowing and understanding Jesus in relational terms, though they obviously had much information about Jesus. Such a divergent path and relational consequence—which are often not paid attention to or simply ignored, as the disciples demonstrated—unequivocally reflect the ongoing presence and recurring issue of reductionism that are inseparable and unavoidable when engaging the whole-ly Word. The interaction unfolding in this converging process is vital for us to understand and is critical for what unfolds in the global church and all its churches, persons and relationships. Listening to sin without reductionism is a long-recurring issue increasing in our midst that more and more conveniently ignores the whole Word and, subsequently, the composition of the whole gospel. This unfolds in a subtle process that clogs the ears to listen to his whole relational terms communicated in relational language and fogs the eyes to pay attention to his whole relational path distinguished by his language of love—all while engaged in subtle illusion and simulation with reduced and fragmentary substitutes about the Word in our theology and practice, whether in the church or the academy.

If the global church and all its persons and relationships want to unfold in wholeness, we cannot continue to be fooled by the reductionist challenge offering (even from a referentialized Word) that “you will know good and evil.” The inconvenient truth of being subject to reductionism exposes this convenient reality: Good without wholeness is what God has been saying is “not good to be apart” for persons and thus what’s not good for the church; and sin without reductionism renders the church to what’s common, thereby subtly reflecting, reinforcing and sustaining the human condition—even as the church may serve the common good. If the church doesn’t want to be shaped by the fragmentary human context, it must by its constituted nature be restored to wholeness by redemptive change from the old and transformation to the new (discussed further in chap. 5). Sin by its nature operates on a trajectory and path of anything less and any substitutes—even with re-forms for the church.

Given our roots from the beginning and the evolution of our history, can the global church still assume or claim that in this globalizing world and digital age, we will not be reduced or fragmented? The contemporary global church is not exempt from the sin of reductionism that prevails in the human context and pervades all those defined by their globalized context. This complex fragmentary human context persists with encompassing influence to shape persons, relationships, as well as churches until, and not until, our theology and practice are constituted whole and distinguished accordingly from fragmentation, and thus the uncommon from the common. With the recurring issue of reductionism and its counter-relational workings converging with the global church as well as its academy, it is not only paradigmatic but indeed axiomatic for the reality of life in both the global North and South: “the measure we use will be the measure we get.”

The whole and uncommon (holy) nature and purpose of the Word’s relational language must by necessity be the basis for our interpretations of the words from God. When our interpretations are whole-ly integrated, then and only then will we know and understand the whole-ly Trinity, and thereby have our learning process and education system constituted in likeness. It is critical, crucial, vital, essential, therefore, that we understand what whole-ly means and how to be whole-ly in likeness of the Trinity. This study progresses with this relational purpose to fulfill this relational outcome.

[1] Discussions of these interpretive positions in hermeneutics are found in Craig Bartholomew, Colin Greene and Karl Moller, eds., After Pentecost: Language and Biblical Interpretation (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2001), and in Craig Bartholomew, C. Stephen Evans, Mary Healy and Murray Rae, eds., “Behind” the Text: History and Biblical Interpretation (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2003).

[2] A discussion of the relative composition of social history is found in Bryan D. Palmer, Descent into Discourse: The Reification of Language and the Writing of Social History (Philadelphia, PA: Temple University Press, 1990).

[3] I discuss this pervading reality in The Global Church Engaging the Nature of Sin and the Human Condition: Reflecting, Reinforcing, Sustaining, or Transforming (Global Church Study: 2016). Online at http://www.4X12.org.

[4] I reemphasize this discussion I made previously in The Person in Complete Context: The Whole of Theological Anthropology Distinguished (Theological Anthropology Study: 2014). Online at http://www.4X12.org.

[5] See Oliver Sacks for a discussion on perfect pitch, tonal communication and protolanguage, Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brian (New York: Vintage Books, 2008); see also Edward Foley, From Age to Age: How Christians Have Celebrated the Eucharist (Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 1991), 9.

[6] Iain McGilchrist, The Master and his Emissary, 105.

[7] Reported by Sharon Begley in “What’s in a Word?” Newsweek, July 20, 2009, 31.

[8] Iain McGilchrist, The Master and his Emissary, 110.

[9] These basic messages were identified and discussed for counseling by Paul Watzlawick, Janet Helmick Beavin, and Don D. Jackson, Pragmatics of Human Communication: A Study of Interactional Patterns, Pathologies, and Paradoxes (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc., 1967).

[10] George Steiner, Real Presences (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991).

[11] I reemphasize this discussion previously made in The Global Church Engaging the Nature of Sin & the Human Condition: Reflecting, Reinforcing, Sustaining, or Transforming (Global Church Study: 2016). Online at http://www.4X12.org.

[12] This is also further discussed by Jarron Lanier, You Are Not a Gadget: A Manifesto (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2010).

[13] Robert M. Sapolsky, “How humans are formed,” OP-ED, Los Angeles Times, August 3, 2014.

[14] Simon Chan, Grassroots Asian Theology: Thinking the Faith from the Ground Up (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Academic, 2014).