Language of Love

Every morning at 6:08 a.m., my son’s voice can be faintly heard from his bedroom.

“Mommy…can I have some milk, please?”

The communication is straightforward, and his words convey precisely what he wants.

Living abroad gives you a new understanding of communication.  Here in Switzerland, four languages are spoken, depending on the region you find yourself in.  It also doesn’t help when you don’t realize that you have crossed into a different region.  For instance, a simple “thank you” can be “Merci,” “Bitte,” or “Grazie”, depending on where you find yourself.

More often than not, when the standard means of communication (language) breaks down, you sometimes have to resort to using your hands to communicate.  My experience in the grocery store last week trying to buy lemons would be a great example.

Communication is a funny thing.  For us, language is always at the forefront because we deal with it every day.  And yet, language, or the actual words we use, only tell a small part of what we want to communicate.

Research suggests that words (their literal meaning) account for 7% of the overall message, while tone of voice accounts for 38%.  However, our body language accounts for 55% of what we want to communicate.

I have found that most things that are truly important in life cannot be reduced to words, for our words fail us.  Try to explain a sunrise over the ocean to someone or the moment your child looks into your eyes for the first time.  Try to develop the syllables or adjectives to describe a loved one who just passed away.  Our words fail us, for they can’t capture the fullness of truth in a given moment.

We recently visited Venice, Italy, during the boys’ Easter break from school. It was our first time there, a city like no other. The canals, the history, the way of life—Venice is truly unique and beautiful. It was also Holy Week, so I was grateful to attend St. Mark’s Basilica all week.

As I sat in St. Mark’s on Good Friday, there was a moment when I was spoken to in a different kind of language.  It was the language of Love.  For on this day, we remembered the death of Jesus on the Cross intentionally and distinctly.  It was a day of action.  Of silence.  God was speaking through body language.

And my words failed me.

“God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son, so that everyone who believes in him might have eternal life.”

-Jn 3:16

In a time in history when technology, the 24-hour news cycle, and social media dominate our ways of communication with words and more words (usually words that shout the loudest and convey the most hatred), there was this moment.  This moment of silence.  A moment when Love was spoken in a way that words failed us.  Logic failed us.  Feelings failed us.  And yet, we responded in the only way that we could.

Throughout the world, a world riddled with violence and hatred, with addiction to power and greed, you found people on their knees.  Bending our knees to a King who voluntarily went to His death, death on a cross.

God has spoken.  We are invited to respond.

And yet, more often than not, no words can communicate this kind of language of Love.

Who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross. Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

-Phil 2:6-11