Miscommunication
Words. Is there anything more abundant in the whole world?
They're light as air, but can carry a great weight. They're cheap, but valuable; ubiquitous, but rare.
With all of our rules of syntax, years of grammar in school, constant use of language with each other every day, and dictionaries on our phones, somehow we habitually manage to misunderstand one another.
In a logical argument, one of the first and most important things to do is to define one's terms. Ambiguity is best avoided by being clear and direct, by making distinctions between one thing and another, and trying - as much as is possible - to remove the chance of talking past one another, or of misunderstanding.
If this kind of error is possible in formal debates, then how perilous indeed it is for we average Joes' day-to-day to talk - or even more, when attempting meaningful conversations!
How often is something that was meant to be caring interpreted as being hurtful? How many times are quarrels and distance caused by misunderstandings that might have been fixed with a simple clarification or two, but instead carry on for days, months, or even years?
I, clearly, love to write. There is an urge, a need, a pressure that sometimes builds up and finds release when my fingers hit the keys. Putting words together is a joy, and sharing them with others makes that joy complete. (I suppose that's why I made this private blog public; maybe someday someone will stumble on it and read it.) These words are beyond amateurish, but just the same I am proud of them.
But as clear as I might think that my words are, this is not always the case. When others read what is written, they bring to the words their own perspective, their own emotions and thoughts and expectations, and as a result something can be lost in translation, as it were. It is, in many ways, a tragedy. Perhaps it is only the great writers who truly have mastered the art of communication, but I suspect even they are misunderstood at times.
There are people out there who say that words don't actually have any inherent meaning, that it's all subjective, or something along those lines. But that is false. The one who spoke or wrote those words had an intended meaning in mind, and it seems to me that it is that meaning that is ultimately the valid one.
Your words might cause me pain. But if so - if they were intended, rather to be a blessing - then perhaps it is I who am ultimately wrong. The pain may be no less true, but it was caused not by you, but rather by the breakdown in communication, the talking past one another, the failure to define our terms.
This is, of course, just another manifestation of sin in the world, an offspring and descendant of Babel, the continuation of the curse.
What is the answer? More words? Yes, perhaps. A flood of words doesn't necessarily lift us out of the mire - it might just cause a drowning - but it's amazing the suffering that a few words, meant to clarify, can relieve. The right words have great power to correct the error, to mend the breakdown in communication.
(And, of course, the true Word mends more than just that.)
What are the most powerful words? "I am sorry." "I was wrong." "I forgive you." Those are the classics for good reason. I'll submit another, though: "What does this mean?" Luther used this phrase often, and any good theologian should carry it on the tip of his tongue. But not only is it crucial when studying the Word, it can be very valuable, I think perhaps, when dealing with our fellow man.
I might think it's clear.
But maybe I'm misunderstanding.
And perhaps you are doing the same.
"Are you lost or incomplete?
Do you feel like a puzzle, you can't find your missing piece?
Tell me, how do you feel?
Well, I feel like they're talking in a language I don't speak
And they're talking it to me...
And you feel like you're goin' where you've been before
You'll tell anyone who'll listen but you feel ignored
And nothin's really makin' any sense at all
Let's talk, let's talk"