
Church-Speak
the Lucid
and the
Ludicrous
Logic and
Language
101:
Nuance,
the Alpha-privative,
and other
nonsense
in the Church
Today
Every
generation
has articulated
itself through
nuance
political,
social,
ideological,
psychological,
and, relatively
recently
ecclesiastical.
Nuance is,
after all,
equivocal:
it is of
the very
essence
of nuance.
In this
sense, perhaps
its primary
sense, it
is a way
of stating
things,
not so much
tentatively,
as subversively.
A political
ideology,
a social
agendum,
a psychological
interpretation,
can be held
with the
firmest
conviction
... as long
as an avenue
of retreat
or retraction
exists that
is sufficiently
wide to
permit egress
with some
semblance
of aplomb.
We
fervently
believe,
maintain,
hold to
be the case
as long
as we can,
with equal
fervor,
belief,
and conviction
, repudiate
what we
passionately
posit
at least
in any univocal
sense. We
must be
clearly
understood
as not being
too clearly
understood.
The important
thing, after
all, is
to be right,
or
correct,
and failing
that, at
least not
be wrong.
Among all
possibilities,
this alone
is inadmissible.
This is
the value
of nuance.
The art
of political
nuance has
been honed
for thousands
of years
to a deadly
edge. Every
political
utterance
is fraught
with nuance,
and for
this reason
is held,
by most
reasonable
people,
to be largely
meaningless.
Because
of its carefully
crafted
linguistic
iridescence,
we are never
quite sure
what to
make of
a given
political
statement
given the
metamorphosis
of meaning
to which
it is perpetually
subject
through
nuance.
In politics
we have
come to
expect nearly
incalculable
permutations
of meaning
and therefore
no meaning
at all.
We have
come to
accept the
acquisition
of this
dark art
as a right
of civilized
passage
that has
ever been
inchoate
in every
expression
of power
as the pinnacle
of politics.
The passage
from meaning
to absurdity
In ecclesiastical
circles,
clerical
and lay,
we find
a subtle
but burgeoning
movement
that is
gaining
impetus
through
a growing
consensus
on the
mutability
of meaning
seemingly
innocuous
or meaning
as epicentric
to notion,
as epicyclical
to some
otherwise
established
deferent
which we
presume
to know
and understand.
We fail
to see that
the constantly
revolving
epicycle
of meaning
which ought
to be
centripetal
in verging
ever more
closely,
ever more
precisely,
on the deferent,
has rather
suddenly
assumed
an inverse
relation
to meaning,
and has
become
centrifugal
in nature,
moving farther
and farther
from the
sphere of
meaning,
of intelligibility,
and ultimately
becoming
remote,
even detached,
from the
reality
it once
signified.
It is not
a permutation
of meaning
resulting
from some
corresponding
permutation
in what
is signified.
On the other
hand, I
believe,
neither
is it a
gratuitous,
still less,
spontaneous.
The provenance
of the problem
I leave
others to
speculate
upon, although
the problematic
itself,
I think,
is strongly
implicative.
What really
ought to
concern
us is what
appears
to be
but is not
an apparently
gratuitous
and innocuous
evolution
not in language
as such,
but
within a
particular
universe
of discourse;
one that
pertains
distinctly,
if not uniquely,
to the Church.
It is not
an evolution,
as I have
said, in
language,
nor is it
a simple
matter of
ellipsis,
although
it closely
resembles
elliptical
utterances;
it really
is a matter
privative
in nature
(much in
the way
that evil
is understood
as a privation
of a good)
and emerges
mutates
really
from the
simplest
of forms
in grammatical
structure
within the
English
language,
and every
other language
that makes
use of the
definite
and the
indefinite
articles.
It is, in
fact, precisely
here that
that the
problematic
arises:
not in the
use,
but rather
in the
omission
of, the
definite
and indefinite
articles
as they
apply to
nouns specific
to discourse
in the Catholic
Church and
theological
circles,
however
broadly
understood.
It is not
simply vexing;
it is confusing
and disconcerting.
In the end,
it is really
quite momentous,
even ominous.
Let us take
an example.
The utterance,
used increasingly,
We
are Church,
certainly
appears
harmless;
at worst,
perhaps
a bit odd
at least
to native
speakers
of the English
language
accustomed
to the definite
or indefinite
article
preceding
the noun
it strikes
us as quirky,
trendy,
avant-garde,
even hyper-modern.
Immersed
as we are
in a Western
culture
that makes
use of the
definite
and indefinite
articles
in its language,
such apparently
gratuitous
omissions
which
oddly enough
occur only
within discourse
on the Church,
and not,
as far as
I am aware,
in discussions
or statements
about secular
society
at large
not only
sounds rather
queer, but
more than
queer, portentous.
Consider
the following
examples:
We
are city
We
are constituency
I
am citizen
of town
I
go to voting
booth
We
eat sandwich
Such utterances
are, indeed,
innocuous
grammatical
solecisms
to those
of us who
have learned
as our
primary
language
another
language
to which
we are not
native,
one in which
articles
(the,
a)
do not occur.
A close
Vietnamese
friend,
terribly
bright,
still has
not adapted
to this
linguistic
convention
after 30
years, so
it is not
a matter
of perspicacity.
But when
someone
we know
who natively
speaks any
language
to which
the definite
and indefinite
articles
are
intrinsic,
quite suddenly
begins
omitting
them from
their speech,
we are perplexed.
Immediately,
instinctively,
we ask ourselves,
Why?
To what
end? For
what purpose?
One does
not simply
and gratuitously
abandon
accepted
rules of
grammar
without
purpose.
The statement,
whatever
it may be,
suddenly
acquires
something
more
than
the nouns
invoked
within it.
Something
latent,
occult (occultus:
hidden),
ambiguous,
equivocal,
appears
to be implied
by the omission.
I say "implied,
because
the purpose
of the blatant
omission
is never
stated,
nor prefaced
for understanding.
It is a
violation
of grammar
for which
no explanation
is proffered,
and this
leaves us
uncomfortable,
curious,
unclear.
It is the
rich soil
of nuance.
Perhaps
history
can lend
us an example:
Latin, for
all its
mellifluence
and beauty,
was nevertheless
considered
(in the
way of linguistic
precision)
a language
inadequate
to nuance,
especially
philosophical
nuance of
the type,
for example,
from which
classical
Greek did
not suffer.
A locus
classicus
of this
deficiency
is found
in the Johannine
Prologue
of the New
Testament:
In
principio
erat Verbum,
et Verbum
erat apud
Deum, et
Deus erat
Verbum.
(St. John.
1.1).
The words
Deum
and
Deus,
in Latin,
can be alternately
translated
as either
the definite
God,
or the indefinite
a
god.
This linguistic
ambiguity,
inherent
in Latin,
made it
unsuitable
for the
precision
of language
required
in philosophic
discourse
... an ambiguity
that has
been exploited,
for example,
by some
sects, to
deny the
Divinity
of Jesus
Christ in
His Consubstantial
Unity with
the Father.
But the
point is
clear nevertheless:
the absence
(not
omission,
as in our
case) of
definite
and indefinite
articles
not only
emphasized
the linguistic
limitations
of Latin
in the way
of precise
philosophic
inquiry,
but
illustrated
the confusion
in this
case, resulting
in nothing
less than
a heresy
engendered
by the absence
of such
articles.
We are
Church ...
What
then is
really being
said?
and more
importantly,
why
when it
is said,
We
are Church,
rather than,
We
are
the
Church?
Why the
omission
of the the
definite
article?
It sounds
trendy enough
(if that
is a good
thing).
But again,
what is
really being
said and
why?
I more than
suggest
the following
(in fact,
I am inclined
to see it
as a significant
fragment
of a much
larger agendum):
by a devilishly
clever and
subtle linguistic
device,
the Roman
Catholic
Church is,
we find
in such
utterances,
quite suddenly
one
among many
churches
(presumably
all equal
in nature,
correct
in doctrine,
and authentic
in interpretation
... albeit
in perpetual
contradiction
to one another).
It is divested
of its
uniqueness
as the ordinary
means of
salvation
... a means
now distributed
without
distinction
among other
churches,
even as
the one
competes
and contends
with the
other. It
is a curious
state of
affairs.
We
are
the
Church,
on the other
hand, is
quite another
thing. It
is a statement
implicitly,
but nonetheless
clearly
predicating
of the Catholic
Church something
unique and
distinguishable
in nature
... the
Church understood
as holy
inasmuch
as it is
set
apart
(a notion
repugnant
to our democratic
instincts),
indefeasibly
unique and
not simply
a
church (among
many churches),
but
the
Church
... What
is more,
the statement
itself is
essentially
contextual
in nature:
The Church
of Whom?
It is a
question
we cannot
ask of
a
church,
except inasmuch
as it is
regarded
as the Church.
Let us take
another
tack:
Caiphas',
in interrogating
Christ,
asked Him
not if he
was
a
Messiah,
but if He
was
the
Messiah;
not "a
Son of a
Living God",
but
the
Son of the
Living God.
The monotheism
of the Hebrews
stood in
stark contradistinction
to its contemporary
religious
milieu in
which there
were numerous
and often
competing
gods
a
god of fertility,
a
god of war,
a god
of the nether
world, etc.
The Sanhedrin
completely
understood
the value
of the distinction
between
definite
and indefinite
articles
the one
would exculpate
Jesus, the
other would
crucify
Him.
Once again,
and with
growing
concern,
what are
we to make
of such
utterances
as
We
are Church?
There is
surely something
at least
a little
bit comical,
if not shamefully
black-face,
in listening
to a Westerner
speak as
though he
or she were
a recent
visitor
from Asia
who had
not yet
sufficiently
grasped
English
to understand
the role
of the definite
and indefinite
article
in the most
casual conversation.
Several
such linguistic
malapropisms
immediately
come to
mind:
This is
the lexicon
rigorously
exercised
exclusively
in the Progressive
Roman Catholic
Church in
America.
It is apropos
of the malapropos
it is
Church-Speak,
the parlance
of
progressivism
which repudiates
anything
less than
what is
totally
inclusive,
completely
democratic,
and broadly
permissive.
The definite
article
is definitely
unwelcome
because
it is definitely
undemocratic
it constrains
us to to
the one,
and
constraint
of any sort
is, to such
reasoning,
the
radix malorum.
This odd
and deeply
factitious
dialect
is the veritable
vernacular
of
Woman
Church
in America,
and all
the pernicious
aberrations
that ineluctably
follow from
it.
This is
cause of
deep consternation,
irrespective
of any issue
implicating
gender,
for it is,
I suspect,
ultimately
the alpha-privative
of
the
Alpha and
the Omega,
and His
Body the
Church.
In the end,
this deliberate
skewing
of language
is deeply
revealing,
for it is
of the essence
of the alpha-privative
to negate.
Small wonder
that the
Italian
composer
Arrigo Boito,
in his
opus magnum,
Mefistofele
sums up
evil as
the
the
spirit of
negation.
Geoffrey
K. Mondello
for the
Boston Catholic
Journal
Printable
PDF Version
Comments? Write us:
editor@boston-catholic-journal.com
