As long as I can remember, words have mattered to me. A lot. I don't know if that is just the way I am wired but I think it is, because I cannot recall a time I was not fascinated by words, their meanings, the power of communication.
Early on I am sure it was simply language acquisition--grasping for the agency to order my surroundings and communicate my needs. My mom tells stories about little Gwen as wunderkind, reading by the time I could talk at age 2.
I am sure that had more to do with her talent as an early childhood educator than my prodigiousness. If it is totally accurate. I don't doubt her honesty, but I have noticed that in her memory my brother and I both seem to get more amazing as children the older we become as adults.
My professional career as a writer and teacher of reading and writing lends itself to hyper-awareness of words. And as always, my faith plays a large part. I have always loved the beginning of the gospel of John in which he writes, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God."
Then the 14th verse: "And the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father) full of grace and truth."
I may never fully understand what all that means, but one of the most interesting takes I've ever read comes from "Isaac Asimov's Guide to the Bible: The Old and New Testaments" in which he links John's terminology to Greek philosophy and the idea that logos represents the whole rational structure of knowledge that underpins the universe, which later became personified as Logos, the intelligent being behind this principle, who created this orderly system in the world.
Logos was adopted by early Jews to describe Yahweh. John takes it a step further here and uses Logos to define Jesus, "the Word," and indicate His oneness with the Creator God.
The concept is delicious for many reasons, not the least of which for logophiles is that it underscores the creative force of words. It echoes Genesis, where God created the world by speaking it into existence. John the apostle calls Jesus the Word. And in my faith tradition Jesus is the savior of the world. The Word who saves.
I teach "The Things They Carried" by Tim O'Brien in Comp 2. O'Brien is a Vietnam veteran and one of America's greatest living writers, and he says stories can save us. He says this as he tells stories about the horrors he faced in the war. I think O'Brien's stories save people in at least two ways. He is able to preserve the memory of those he loved and lost by writing about them--which saves them in a way. He is also trying to save us, as readers and as a nation, from the evil of a war like that by showing us the truth of what it was.
And yet we are living in a time and place that often feels like words do not mean much. Politicians fling out talking points and catch phrases like pasta against a wall to see which ones will stick. I find myself constantly relying on and relaying the adage that actions speak much louder than words. I tell my children this. In making critical decisions if we have to choose between a person's words and actions we should choose actions every time.
But I also want to be a woman of my word--and teach my children that value. It is important. We should measure our words and hold others to that standard because words do matter. They have creative power. And we should not have to choose between one's words or actions. Because a person's actions should match their words. In the case of Logos, words are action--we speak and write as active participants in shaping the world we want. This is how stories can save us.
In a church service I attended over Easter weekend, the pastor said America is "going down the tubes." This is an opinion, of course, like my columns are, and everyone is entitled to one, though not all presume to speak the word of God.
But if considered in the context of Logos, what creative purpose does it serve to preach that America is going down the tubes? How does this leader participate in shaping the world he and his followers want?
And if church is a place to learn about following Jesus--the Logos who saves--shouldn't it be a place we tell stories that save us? Save America, if in fact we believe it is headed down the tubes?
Instead, the sermon that followed was about self-isolation, "safety" from a culture the leader deems in need of saving. The world this story creates is like a country behind a wall. A world completely counter to the Word who dwelt among us.
I could not recommend the sermon, but it served a good if unintended purpose. It got me thinking about what stories I tell as well as what stories I believe. Those stories define us because words create worlds. They matter. I want mine to be full of grace and truth.
Gwen Ford Faulkenberry is an English teacher. Email her at gfaulkenberry@hotmail.com.