Subjunctive
20/05/15 05:14
It has been nearly 50 years since I sat at the homemade desk in a closet, made over into a small private study with a sheet of plywood for a table, in the upstairs of my parents home, declining Latin verbs in my spiral-bound, college-ruled notebook. I’m sure that I’ve forgotten more about Latin than I have retained, but in some ways those exercises have continued to contribute to my daily life. I, of course, came into the study of theology and religion in an era long past the time of Latin as the common language of Europe and the language of scholarship and theology. We knew that Latin was a dead language when we studied it in high school. In fact we thought that our teacher was probably close to being dead and were pretty sure that once she was gone the school wouldn’t be able to find anyone to teach the subject. That idea was partly correct, the subject was dropped from the curriculum when that teacher retired. She wasn’t however all that old - at least she was younger than I am now.
A few years later, I studied French in college and once again found myself declining verbs, though this time the exercise was much shorter and I moved more quickly to simply reading the language as the primary mode of learning. French, like English, has been heavily influenced by Latin. To understand this, it is important to remember that there was a time when Latin was the common language of Europe. The various countries had their individual languages, but when people needed to communicate across the language divides, they used Latin. From the third to the 16th centuries, Latin was the language of scholarship, religion and mass communication.
Today one could say that English is rapidly becoming the common language of the world. It is the most-taught second language worldwide. Air traffic runs on English around the globe and it is also the most common language for business transactions worldwide.
There was a time, however, when the language of commerce and international communication was Latin - at least for Europe. In a strange way, it also influenced the thinking of speakers of African languages as those languages reached Spain and were translated by scholars into Latin.
So declining Latin verbs was a way of learning about culture and history as well as the structure of language. In Latin (and French and English, too!) there are both tenses (past, present, future, and several others such as past perfect, etc.) and moods. In Latin there are three moods: indicative, imperative and subjunctive. Those moods have carried over into our language as well. We use the subjunctive all the time when we talk about what would have been, could have been or should have been. Not all languages share these concepts. For a speaker of Japanese or Chinese or Thai or Vietnamese, it seems silly and strange to talk about things that didn’t happen. Why would you speculate on what would have been when you already know that it has not been? There really isn’t a way to express the subjunctive in many languages.
When you can’t say a concept, you tend not to think that concept.
This has theological relevance as well. The tradition of guilt comes, in part, from the ability to imagine a different past: “If only I’d . . .” We find ourselves speculating on how things might have turned out differently. We second-judge our decisions and actions and wonder what might have happened if we had made different choices. Such speculation leads us to judgments not only of ourselves but of others as well. “If only he had . . . “ we think. Guilt, as you know, has played an important role in the formation of many religions and Christianity is one that has a certain amount of guilt in its worldview.
The moods of verbs not only shape how we think about the past, but also how we anticipate the future. In the imperative mood, we consider what must become. We think of the consequences of our behavior as setting in motion results that are inevitable. There are things in our future that we cannot alter. Of course we are often inaccurate when we use the imperative mood. Alarmists of 40 or 50 years ago predicted that mass starvation, plagues and mass die offs of people would result from overpopulation. The population of the world has, however, continued to grow and the results have not been exactly the same as predicted. Sometimes we can imagine outcomes that are worse than what really occurs. Still the imperative is helpful in imagining change. Rachel Carson’s imperatives about the effects of continuing to use certain pesticides led to a change in behavior and the saving of many species.
The indicative mood is also a useful tool for expressing theological concepts. At its simplest, indicative is simple statement of fact. It is the one mood that is shared with the Eastern languages that do not have the subjunctive. God creates. That is a sentence in the indicative mood. Christians love. The indicative mood allows us to reach beyond the normal bounds of language to communicate the basic truth of theology into cultures and language systems that are very different from our own. We might not be able to discuss what might had been. We might find it difficult to speculate about what should or ought to be. But we can speak of what is.
Of course, living among English-speaking people and having a little background in Latin, I find it hard to separate the moods of language from my thinking. When I speak of what is, I automatically consider what has been and what might have been. I read the story of Abraham and the near-sacrifice of Isaac and I wonder how differently the world would be had not God intervened to save the child. I hear the stories of Jesus and wonder what would have occurred had Judas not betrayed him.
I doubt if I could decline a Latin verb any more. I’ve forgotten all of the endings and variations. Still the conduction of verbs continues to shape my thinking and my understanding of God. And, when I am on top of my game I’m a better storyteller and preacher than I might have been had I not had those studies.
A few years later, I studied French in college and once again found myself declining verbs, though this time the exercise was much shorter and I moved more quickly to simply reading the language as the primary mode of learning. French, like English, has been heavily influenced by Latin. To understand this, it is important to remember that there was a time when Latin was the common language of Europe. The various countries had their individual languages, but when people needed to communicate across the language divides, they used Latin. From the third to the 16th centuries, Latin was the language of scholarship, religion and mass communication.
Today one could say that English is rapidly becoming the common language of the world. It is the most-taught second language worldwide. Air traffic runs on English around the globe and it is also the most common language for business transactions worldwide.
There was a time, however, when the language of commerce and international communication was Latin - at least for Europe. In a strange way, it also influenced the thinking of speakers of African languages as those languages reached Spain and were translated by scholars into Latin.
So declining Latin verbs was a way of learning about culture and history as well as the structure of language. In Latin (and French and English, too!) there are both tenses (past, present, future, and several others such as past perfect, etc.) and moods. In Latin there are three moods: indicative, imperative and subjunctive. Those moods have carried over into our language as well. We use the subjunctive all the time when we talk about what would have been, could have been or should have been. Not all languages share these concepts. For a speaker of Japanese or Chinese or Thai or Vietnamese, it seems silly and strange to talk about things that didn’t happen. Why would you speculate on what would have been when you already know that it has not been? There really isn’t a way to express the subjunctive in many languages.
When you can’t say a concept, you tend not to think that concept.
This has theological relevance as well. The tradition of guilt comes, in part, from the ability to imagine a different past: “If only I’d . . .” We find ourselves speculating on how things might have turned out differently. We second-judge our decisions and actions and wonder what might have happened if we had made different choices. Such speculation leads us to judgments not only of ourselves but of others as well. “If only he had . . . “ we think. Guilt, as you know, has played an important role in the formation of many religions and Christianity is one that has a certain amount of guilt in its worldview.
The moods of verbs not only shape how we think about the past, but also how we anticipate the future. In the imperative mood, we consider what must become. We think of the consequences of our behavior as setting in motion results that are inevitable. There are things in our future that we cannot alter. Of course we are often inaccurate when we use the imperative mood. Alarmists of 40 or 50 years ago predicted that mass starvation, plagues and mass die offs of people would result from overpopulation. The population of the world has, however, continued to grow and the results have not been exactly the same as predicted. Sometimes we can imagine outcomes that are worse than what really occurs. Still the imperative is helpful in imagining change. Rachel Carson’s imperatives about the effects of continuing to use certain pesticides led to a change in behavior and the saving of many species.
The indicative mood is also a useful tool for expressing theological concepts. At its simplest, indicative is simple statement of fact. It is the one mood that is shared with the Eastern languages that do not have the subjunctive. God creates. That is a sentence in the indicative mood. Christians love. The indicative mood allows us to reach beyond the normal bounds of language to communicate the basic truth of theology into cultures and language systems that are very different from our own. We might not be able to discuss what might had been. We might find it difficult to speculate about what should or ought to be. But we can speak of what is.
Of course, living among English-speaking people and having a little background in Latin, I find it hard to separate the moods of language from my thinking. When I speak of what is, I automatically consider what has been and what might have been. I read the story of Abraham and the near-sacrifice of Isaac and I wonder how differently the world would be had not God intervened to save the child. I hear the stories of Jesus and wonder what would have occurred had Judas not betrayed him.
I doubt if I could decline a Latin verb any more. I’ve forgotten all of the endings and variations. Still the conduction of verbs continues to shape my thinking and my understanding of God. And, when I am on top of my game I’m a better storyteller and preacher than I might have been had I not had those studies.