BY ED DICKERSON
Caeli enarrant gloriam Dei, et opus manus eius adnuntiat firmamentum
Dies diei eructat verbum, et nox nocti indicat scientiam.
Non est sermo et non sunt verba, quibus non audiatur vox eorum.
--Ps. 19:2-4, Vulgate.
REDERICK OF SAXONY BARRICADED Martin Luther in Wartburg Castle during the winter of 1521-1522 to protect the reformer from his enemies. The Catholic authorities declared him a heretic and sought his destruction. Luther's teachings concerning the priesthood of all believers, with the Scriptures as their sole authority, ignited the flames of hope, but only scholars had access to the Bible. The few copies that existed were chained to the monastery wall, and locked in dead Latin.
A living language when Jerome translated the Vulgate, or "common," Bible in the early fifth century, Latin had long since ceased to be spoken by ordinary people. So Luther used this period of enforced isolation to translate the Bible into German. Within decades, reformers translated the Bible into all the major languages of Europe.
Not that Bible translation began with Luther. Nearly two millennia before the Reformation, exiled Jews in Babylon began to translate the Targums, which include portions of the Old Testament, into Aramaic. Jews in Alexandria produced the Greek translation of the Old Testament known as the Septuagint before the time of Christ. We've already mentioned the Vulgate Latin Bible, completed by Jerome in A.D. 405. In England, Wycliffe's translations preceded Luther's efforts in Germany; tyndale's was finished about the same time as Luther's. The quest to make the Scriptures available in living languages had a long and honorable history before Luther. But the Reformation, with its emphasis on individual responsibility to God and fidelity to the Scriptures, spurred the movement onward.
During and immediately after the Reformation, Bible translation focused on the Christian countries of Europe. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries the great Missions and Bible Societies movements shifted the emphasis to non-Christian countries, to mission fields. As soon as missionaries entered a new field, they began to translate the Bible into the local language. Today, nearly a half millennium since Luther's sojourn at Wartburg Castle, the work continues. The United Bible Societies Web site reports that the whole Bible has been translated into a total of 383 languages. Portions of the Bible have been translated into more than 2,000 languages, with more than 2,000 yet to go!
The necessity of Bible translation in proclaiming the gospel now seems so obvious, we no longer realize the paradoxical nature of the task. Imagine trying to express the gospel in a language steeped in the worship of spirits, trees, and magical boars. The translators struggled to find ways to express the most sublime and holy concepts of salvation in words and expressions saturated with profane, and even demonic, associations. I'm grateful they persevered and translated the gospel into English.
As we treat unsavory characters in our family tree, we conveniently forget the submerged pagan origins of the English language. Disturbing as that thought may be, there are no alternatives. If the Word is to be understandable, it must use the living language as people speak it, replete with pagan references.
Sounded Like Witch Music
Bruce Olson tells of his efforts to take the gospel to the Motilón people of a remote section of South America. He learned to speak the language, and the people came to accept his presence. Eventually his closest Motilón friend became a Christian, but the work proceeded slowly.
One Motilón custom included marathon singing sessions in which, suspended in hammocks high above the ground, they sang out the "news." During one of these festivals, Olson listened as his friend, the first Motilón Christian, sang out the story of Jesus, and the story of his personal conversion. For 14 hours, while a formerly hostile neighboring chief repeated it word for word, note for note, the gospel rang out through the jungle night. Surprisingly, this did not entirely please Olson.
"It seemed so heathen. The music, chanted in a strange minor key, sounded like witch music. It seemed to degrade the gospel. Yet when I looked at the people around me and up at the chief swinging in his hammock, I could see they were listening as though their lives depended upon it. Bobby was giving them spiritual truth through the song."1
It sounded like witch music. Or, put another way, it sounded like Motilón music. Their music, as well as their language, had previously served false gods. But how else would God sing to the Motilón? In J. S. Bach chorales? Early American folk songs? Bruchko, as the Motilón called Olson, realized that his pride had been an obstacle. When it came to spiritual things, he thought his way the only right way, his music the only "holy" music. So God bypassed him and sang to the Motilón in their own way.
Luther understood the power of music, as well. In his day, not only the Mass and the Bible were in Latin, but the hymns as well. Some existing hymns he translated. Others he wrote new. Many he set to popular melodies. He realized that the gospel needed to sing as well as speak in the tongue of the common people.
To Reach a Mobile Culture
Today a new kind of mission field beckons. Instead of volcanic cliffs and rain forests of exotic islands, this people group inhabits the concrete canyons and asphalt jungles of our modern cities. Instead of isolated tribes who have never heard the good news, we face a mobile culture educated to consider the gospel "old news." To them, the King James Version and Fanny Crosby hymns are no more relevant than Latin. Like Latin in Luther's day, King James 1611 English has long since ceased to be spoken by ordinary people. Similarly, most hymns have become limited to a marginalized and shrinking subculture out of the mainstream. The native music of modern secular people, whether rock, jazz, or rap, sounds alien in our ears. This mission field includes some of our brothers and sisters, our children and grandchildren.
We're struggling to come to terms with the challenges this new mission field presents. The "witch music" in far-off jungles doesn't bother us, but some members threaten to bolt the church if we allow "devil music" (by which they mean contemporary and rock music) in suburban congregations. This attitude places pastors and administrators in a bind between reaching the lost and placating the saints. "If we allow contemporary and/or rock music, we lose the older members; if we don't, we lose the young people!" Older members provide more financial support to the church than do younger ones. If the older members go, their financial support goes with them. The church must receive financial support to survive. But if we don't reach the young and the unchurched, we have no reason to exist.2 The loss of either group imperils the future of the church. Besieged pastors and administrators wonder what to do.
Like many others of my generation, I am not always comfortable with some forms of music in church. But the Bible challenges the notion that my comfort should be a primary concern. Far from encouraging our comfort, in Revelation 3:15-17, the Faithful and True Witness tells Laodicea that our preoccupation with our own comfort is our problem! God calls parents to forgo comfort for the sake of their children. Should not the saints forgo comfort for the sake of the lost?
Some express fear that certain musical styles contaminate the gospel. They desire to preserve its sanctity. Although it sounds laudable, that same reasoning chained the Bible to the wall and entombed it in a dead language in Luther's day. Ironically, a combination of time and forgetfulness turned the common Vulgate into something "holy" and unchangeable. Must we repeat that mistake with the King James translation and certain music traditions?
Like Bruchko, we may be unsettled hearing the gospel proclaimed in musical styles that have been put to unsavory employment. We may not understand how God can communicate His truth through some languages, some forms of music. But then, that's part of the whole mystery of Godliness, isn't it? God let His only Son take on a human body, after the race had been weakened by centuries of sin. The Word became flesh, bringing life and light to humanity. "Satan was exulting that he had succeeded in debasing the image of God in humanity." Then Jesus "came to expel the demons that had controlled the will."3 Everywhere Jesus went, the demons fled. It is not the presence of demons that condemns mankind; it is the absence of Christ (see Matt. 12:43-46).
So it is with music, as Bruchko experienced. Demons may have occupied a language or music for millennia, but the presence of Christ in the gospel drives them out. What remains sounds the same to outsiders, but those who speak the language know the difference. It may still sound like chaos to us, because we are not attuned to it. At Sinai the Israelites heard only thunder, but Moses heard the voice of God.
Beyond Fanny Crosby
We cannot imagine a missionary saying to a new people group, "We're sorry; we cannot and will not pollute the gospel by translating it into your language, contaminated by your false religion. If you want to be saved, you'll have to learn our language." Yet we come perilously close to saying just that to modern society. "If you're to receive the gospel, you must use the King James Version and sing Fanny Crosby hymns!"
As we attempt to embrace the harvest we will be continually challenged. Ancient Israel worshiped God with shouting, clapping hands, leaping, and dancing. As the God of the living, not of the dead (Matt. 22:32), He may reclaim many more "living languages" in order to reap the harvest. Students of the brain tell us we have at least eight ways of learning, or perceiving truth. Each one represents a potential language for praising God. Each one represents a potential challenge to Laodicea's comfort.
Will we attempt to chain the gospel to our preferred style of service, and inter it in King James English? Will we shackle it to our own familiar melodies and harmonies? Will we say to the listener to modern Christian singing groups, "God doesn't like country music, or rock, or rap"? Will we say to the hearing-impaired, "God doesn't communicate in sign language"? Will we say to the kinesthetic learner, who communicates through body movements, "God doesn't communicate through dance"? If we do, how will we answer the Scriptures on these matters?4 More important, how will we answer those we might have reached with the gospel, but for our discomfort with their worship? God invented every form of communication. Though sullied with human sin, God uses them to reach His sheep. Will we cooperate with Him? Or will we presume to rewrite Psalm 19:1-3?
"The heavens declare the glory of God,
and the firmament showeth His handiwork.
Day unto day uttereth speech,
and night unto night showeth knowledge--BUT
There is some speech and there are some languages
where their voice must not be heard."
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1 Bruce Olson, Bruchko (Orlando, Fla.: Creation House, 1973), p. 146.
2 See Ellen G. White, The Acts of the Apostles, p. 9.
3 White, The Desire of Ages, pp. 37, 38.
4 Jer. 31:3-5, 12-14; Ps. 149:2-4; Ex. 15:19-21; Luke 15:24-26.
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Author and speaker Ed Dickerson may be contacted via e-mail: edickers@netins.net
