Peter Costello
Passwords to Paradise: How Languages Have Re-invented World Religions
by Nicholas Ostler
(Bloomsbury, £20.00)
How often on holiday in France have I pondered at Mass how different the word Seigneur, with its sense of local obedience, sounds on the lips in contrast to lord, which always (to an Irish ear at least) will have a tone darkened by history, or the original Latin dominus which more familiarly meant the head of a household.
One way or the other we have all felt this. Such difference between languages and the effect that they have on religious beliefs and doctrines is the theme of this very interesting book.
The author, Nicholas Ostler, began his investigations of language differences in South America, a continent with the most separate language in the world. He is the author since of a language history of the world, and of books on the historical role of English and Latin – which are among the most influential languages in shaping the world we live in today, culturally and spiritually.
The theme of this book is the influence of languages on things spiritual. Two of the chapters deal with Buddhism and with Hindu beliefs, which will be unfamiliar but fascinating territory to many readers. However, the great bulk of the chapters deal with just how the Old and the New Testament have been carried out of their original languages (Hebrew and Greek) into other languages, notably Latin and then English.
Across these chapters he shows just how that uneasy feeling that we have all felt has in fact led to changes in meaning. By ‘passwords’ he perhaps means something more akin to shibboleths. It will be recalled that the men of Gilead at the river fords had asked the Ephraimites to pronounce the word sibbolet, which they lacked a phoneme in their language to do.
What is going on in actual translation is something different. This transition between languages became particularly critical in the movement of belief-carrying texts between Hebrew, Greek and Latin – and later English.
Confusions
One has only to think of such terms as ‘spirit’ and ‘soul’ to see what confusions could arise. And in Gaelic and Anglo-Saxon, things deepen. Theologians use the word spirit where the Anglo-Saxon used ghost – but ghost carried a burdened of nuanced meaning that the theologians working from a Greek and Latin background distrusted – hence the disappearance of the Holy Ghost from the Catholic liturgy.
Ostler has, I think, a tendency to see this as “re-inventing” the beliefs. But is it not a more difficult matter of trying to express in languages of different genius, matters of spiritual importance which are not often exact but ineffable?
His opening chapter dealing with the translation of Christian teaching into the terms of Aztec language and outlook set the stage very well. Moving on from the Fathers of the Church, such as St Jerome whose version of the Bible dominated the Middle Ages, and the struggles and confusions over defining doctrines, one of his later chapters deals with Ireland. This too is of great interest, given that Latin was, so to speak, the civilising element in barbarian Celtic culture.
Even more interesting is the use of local languages in the Orthodox Churches, which goes a long way to clarifying those divisions often called schisms that divide the Catholic (meaning universal) and the Orthodox meaning correct.
It is often said that Britain and America are two countries divided by the one language. Churches too have allowed themselves to be divided by language. Christians of all kinds should all ponder these divisions, and seriously wonder from time to time can this be what Christ intended for his Church?
But in the context of Ostler’s book, there are the even more startling visions of Islam. The only authentic version of the Koran is the original Arabic – translations are only seen as mere commentaries, they have no authority. But this fixed text has, however, not prevented the appalling struggle between the various factions of the prophet’s followers.
Nicholas Ostler’s book makes fascinating, but sobering reading, reminding us that when it comes down to what we think we believe we should ask ourselves, ‘Was this what Jesus Christ really said?’