When reading the biblical text, it is helpful to understand how language works. Seen simplistically, language is one-dimensional – what you see is what you get. In his book, The Bible Made Impossible (2011), Christian Smith says that when language is thought of too simplistically the Bible can be wrongly made out to be a series of propositional statements whose original meanings can be readily reproduced in the minds of those reading the statements (157).
So it is considered honorable within much of modern Biblicism to say, as Billy Graham once did, “The Bible says it. I believe it. And that settles it.” Such a naïve way of reading the Bible gets us into all kinds of untenable situations that do injustice to the richness inherent in the biblical text. And it feeds the notion that the Bible is a religious textbook that lends itself well to organizing all it says into a systematic theology resembling a massive religious constitution. Being aware of how language works can trigger a shift away from an arrogant, overconfident and simplistic reading of the Bible we are often guilty of.
A counter argument can readily be mounted by saying, in that case, people reading the Bible before 20th century philosophers had delineated the nature of language had no chance of getting its message right. I would suggest, however, that careful Bible readers in previous centuries have seldom treated the language in the Bible as simplemindedly as many Biblicists do in the 21st century. What modern language experts have said about the nature of language was frequently understood intuitively by many engaged Bible readers of earlier times. Modern Bible readers, however, are well advised to take advantage of important linguistic studies of the past century.
It was John L. Austin who launched the modern study of the nature of language in his landmark book, How to do Things with Words (1962). Although many others have expanded on his work, the basic foundations Austin laid down half a century ago remain more-or-less intact today.
Austin delineated three distinct acts that happen when language is used in the process of communication.
A locutionary act simply entails uttering or writing a series of words, that is, making a plain statement. In her essay on the subject, Veronika Justavo uses the example: “The door is there.” By itself it is an uncomplicated assertion not open to interpretation and easily translated into other languages and cultures.
However, in most cases, a speaker saying, “The door is there,” for example, has a purpose in mind for uttering this statement – known as an illocutionary act. This purpose can only be understood by taking into account the context in which it is said, the tone and volume used, facial expressions accompanying it and a host of other indicators. An illocutionary act can be actions such as commanding, promising, warning, asking, asserting, appealing, criticizing, challenging, etc. So in the case of a homeowner speaking to an unwelcome salesperson, “The door is there,” could be a command to get out of the house. Or it may simply be answering a question a confused grandmother asked about how to leave the house once the family gathering is over.
A perlocutionary act relies on stated words to accomplish a particular effect or action in the hearer. By stating, “The door is there,” in a firm voice the salesperson realizes he is not welcome and proceeds to exit through the door. In another context the grandmother simply takes note of where to exit when it is time to go home.
Such an understanding of the nature of language is helpful when interpreting the Bible. It reminds us that not all use of speech in the Bible is meant to communicate propositional statements to be compiled by the reader into a systematic grid of absolute truth. If that seems to complicate matters, at least it serves to place a check on those Bible readers who take everything written at face value. And it encourages us to do the hard work of appropriate biblical exegesis.
We are reminded that everything we read in the Bible originated in a different linguistic and cultural context than our own. Those of us who know more than one language and have lived in differing cultures know how hard it can be to communicate clearly across these lines. In fact, literal translations of words, intentions and desired responses in such contexts can serve to communicate something entirely different from what was originally intended. In fact it may have a completely opposite effect.
Also, we must admit that sometimes we do not have at our disposal the necessary indicators to say conclusively what illocutionary act the speaker in the Bible had in mind. That is why Christian Smith reminds us that, “…a distinction should always be made between what Scripture reports and includes and what it teaches or intends” (158).
And we need to be reminded that there may be more than one way of saying something to perform the same perlocutionary effect in the hearers. Three examples would be the many and varied images employed to help us understand the nature of salvation, the church and the Kingdom of God as discussed in the previous essay.
Understanding how language works can help us discern appropriate meanings that lie behind and within, for example, the creation narratives of Genesis, the dialogues Jesus had with the Pharisees, Paul’s injunctions for women to remain silent in the church and the employment of apocalyptic language in Daniel and Revelation.
Reading the Bible then becomes much more than affirming the inerrancy of all the locutionary statements it contains. As Christian Smith says, “Scripture, in short, can be approached as something quite different from a holy life handbook, an error-free instruction manual, or a compendium of divine oracles about life’s various and sundry issues and challenges. Instead…the view developed above puts us, the readers, back into the position of being acted upon by the words of scripture” (162).