From Babel to Pentecost: Proclamation, Translation, and the Risk of the Spirit

Perhaps–just perhaps–when admitting the necessity of constant interpretation, Derrida and Caputo express a position faithful to Scripture’s revelation of the Holy Spirit. In the verse quoted at the beginning of this essay, Jesus informs Nicodemus that those born of the Holy Spirit are like the wind that blows in an essentially agnostic manner. No one may know its origination or its termination. Its effects may be experienced but never with absolute certainty. I consider Jesus’ statement not only to be a word about the children of the Spirit but also to be about the Spirit himself. The offspring of the Spirit may not be decisively and completely known precisely because they exemplify the very characteristics of the Spirit himself. The transcendence and holiness of the Spirit disallow anyone from defining and confining the Spirit’s power in weak human categories.⁴¹ The Spirit moves as he wishes, often covertly, some­times overtly, but at no time can we domesticate and dominate the Spirit’s influence. The Spirit exemplifies Derrida’s “to come,” that surprising event that cannot be anticipated and manipulated, the messianic mystery of a divine presence that always escapes every human endeavor to grasp it and hold it and use it for personal advantage. The Holy Spirit, therefore, is always a spirit of undecidability, of promise, of the unexpected things that “eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man” (1 Cor. 2:9). The Spirit reveals these things to us, because he knows the mind of God. We can only know them as the Spirit gives them utterance and communicates them to our spirit. Because he does so always in various cultural forms and through the limitation of human language, we should be vigilant not to reduce the Spirit’s testimony to worldly wisdom or to weak concepts con­trolled by human ingenuity (1 Cor. 2:11-13).⁴²

Perhaps–just perhaps–it is not merely coincidental that the Apostle Paul, when writing about spiritual gifts–including the gift of “tongues” and the necessity for translation and interpretation! (1 Cor. 14:27-28)–writes that we “know in part” and “prophesy [proclaim] in part” (1 Cor. 13:9). He attributes our partial comprehension and communication to our “reflective” limitation; that is, we now “see in a mirror dimly,” unable to bring our knowledge into the transparency of a fully-focused spiritual acuity.⁴³ Paul uses the Greek word ainigma for “dimly,” a word that translates into English as “enigma.” Consequently, a certain enigmatic quality defines our knowledge of God as long as we exist within the finite structures of our languages, our cultures, and our traditions.⁴ Of course, Paul also acknowledges a messianic motif, a “face-to-face” understanding that is yet “to come,” when we will know fully even as we are known (1 Cor. 13:12).⁴⁵ Yet, until that future perfect messianic event occurs, we are left to walk by faith and not by sight, to hope in that which is not seen, and to respond to every situation in the spirit of a love that is never guaranteed a return (13:13).

We so often find ourselves echoing the confession of the hopeful father in Mark, who admits to Christ that he believes but needs help with unbelief (Mark 9:24). Likewise, we find ourselves repeatedly testing the wind, trying to ascertain whether what we feel is truly the gentle touch of the Spirit, or yet another blast from the winds of deceitful doctrine (Eph. 4:14) or another tempest blown up by our own infidelity (Jam. 1:6). As the Apostle John so wisely warns us, we must frequently “test the spirits” (1 Jo. 4:1-2), for not all spirits come from God, not everyone who claims the Spirit’s authority to speak a word from God comes from God, and not everyone who might genuinely believe that the Spirit has spoken to him has correctly interpreted his experience. Even when we are convinced, in good faith, that we speak in response to the Spirit who has spoken to us, that is, when we believe we feel the internal witness of the Spirit as confirmation of an interpretation, of an action, or of a proclamation, we face the possibility of mistranslation and misinterpretation.

In reality, even the Spirit’s influence on our interpretations is, itself, functionally a matter of interpretation, yet another instance of hermeneutics. We hear a word, read a text, or experience some feeling, and we then interpret it as a sign that the Holy Spirit is communicating with us, leading us, or authenticating our doctrines for us. But postmodern thought insists that interpreting signs never gives us absolute certainty or complete knowledge, which leaves open the real potential for hermeneutical error, even when we seek to decipher the Spirit’s presence. Consequently, that “funny feeling” or “strange sensation” that we interpret as evidence that the Holy Spirit has filled us and empowered us to proclaim God’s Word might not be the Spirit at all but merely an “undigested bit of beef,” the residual effect of the pizza we ate at the Sunday School party the night before.⁴⁶ Indigestion or inspiration? Egocentric desire or divine revelation? Passion for power or humble piety? The Spirit of God or self-righteous certainty? What truly motivates and authenticates our proclamation?

Tags: babel, pentecost, proclamation, risk, spirit, translation

Category: Ministry, Summer 2007