November 27th: Limits to speech

The other night, as I drove home, I saw the moon peering just over the edge of the horizon. It was huge and bright, a great crater-strewn disk of orange, just hanging there, almost daring you not to stare. Conscious of the act of driving on a major highway and of the other cars around me, I focussed more on my vehicle than on the lunar orb. Still, as often as I could do safely, I stole many a glance at our one and only natural satellite.
Piecing a picture together from my many quick peeks, I really got a sense of the moon not just as a distant image, but as an actual sphere in space. It wasn’t full, so the shading gave it a sense of three mighty big dimensions. Being so close to the horizon it appeared larger than usual, truly dominating the scenery. I wish I could describe adequately what exactly I saw, but due to the limits of speech, I cannot. Despite the huge number of words in the English language, and my own not insignificant vocabulary, conveying the full impact of what I saw is simply beyond my capacity. Perhaps some capable wordsmith could do it, but that’s not me.
Our ability to speak is nothing less than miraculous. When you consider how much we can convey through mere scratches on paper or vibrations of the air, you can’t help but wonder at the power of speech. A good writer can create in your mind’s eye exactly what they have imagined. A good speaker can draw you into their lives and even into an entirely different universe simply through the passion and conviction of their words. Yet for all their ability to move and stir us, words aren’t always enough.
How do you truly convey your sadness at a friend’s death? Words do not suffice and so tears must flow. How can you state clearly and absolutely your joy on the roller coaster? Words say only so much; your wide open eyes huge, immovable grin must finish the sentence. How can I fully convey the sense of awe I felt seeing the Harvest moon last night? Only by praying that you too saw it, or will get a chance to gaze upon it yourself one day.
Words written and spoken do not always suffice. There are clear and absolute limits to speech. God knows this. That’s why He sent Jesus, the Living Word, to us. What His laws could not teach, what His prophets could not get across, Jesus conveys in flesh and blood. How does one live? Look at how Jesus lived. How does one forgive? Observe Jesus’ acts of mercy? How does one find purpose and meaning in life? Live through and for Jesus.
The spoken word lasts but an instant, living only in memory once said. Written words live a little longer, but they must be read in order to have life, and we can’t always have our nose stuck in a book. Only Jesus, God’s Living Word is with us all the time, showing us how to live, speaking words of encouragement, and carrying us when we cannot go on. Listen. He’s talking to you. Listen, and live.