Spiritual Literacy and the Power of Translation

Most people associate the idea of gaining spiritual knowledge on one's own with Martin Luther. But prior to 1515, the year Luther posted his famous 95 Theses, there was popular demand for the word of God. A certain preacher in England named John Wycliffe believed that clergy and layman alike should be exposed directly to the Bible. His followers, known as Lollards, carried scripts of Bibles around the countryside and taught the common people. The best part? Those Bibles were in English! John Wycliffe had translated the Bible during the late 14th century. Bear in mind that this was before Gutenberg's printing press; these Bibles, as had been the case for centuries, were painstakingly written by hand.

But what was so significant about the word of God in common vernacular?

I could probably write another 15 blogposts on the history of Biblical translation, printing, and distribution; I'm passionately interested. But to answer this question, I point instead to a modern

A Nepali family reads the Book of Mormon digitally

 in their native language

example: the translation of the Book of Mormon into Nepali. Just last summer, the Book of Mormon was released in Nepali after seven years of translating. It brought immense joy to Nepali church members; Branch President Ghanashyam Sarki said, "I am so happy the Book of Mormon will finally be translated to Nepali. With the translation, I can help others to understand and appreciate the Book of Mormon. ... It will help us to know the truth." To empathize with President Sarki, I look back on my own life to when I began to read the word of God with a sufficient understanding of the language. Indeed, I found truth, and every other facet of my life has hinged upon it. The impact of "spiritual literacy" has been immeasurable.

In short, breaking down the barriers of language allows us to access knowledge-- both spiritual and temporal. The old adage "knowledge is power" only applies when we meet linguistic criteria. Wycliffe and countless others have understood this-- and put everything on the line because of it.


Image credit: Valerie Johnson, 2017.
 https://www.lds.org/church/news/celebration-commemorates-translation-of-the-book-of-mormon-into-nepali?lang=eng  

A Stranger at Home

Coinciding with the Renaissance era was a time of exploration by countries of Europe. In particular, Portugal and Spain pioneered the oceans for "God, gold, and glory", or in other words, for the sake of missions, economic prosperity, and global influence/political dominance. Naturally, their European neighbors followed suit. Today, we often discuss their adventures with a heavy grain of salt and a disdainful tone as we remember the harrowing exploitations that took place. But upon reading French explorer Michel de Montaigne's Of Cannibals, I've come to consider that not every adventurer sought to prey upon third-world countries.

A view of the outside world molds the lens in which we view our own. Just as Montaigne saw cannibalism as less savage than aspects of punishment in his home country, travel can lead us to question our morals and mannerisms. This shapes our identity-- and perhaps most of all, with whom we identify.

While living in Japan last August, I did more than just appreciate their culture-- I adopted it. This isn't meant to sound boastful, but to simply express how I related to certain aspects of their culture more than my own. Dignity, modesty, respect, diligence, politeness, kindness... all inherent parts of Japanese custom, and all values which I prize highly. I felt like a sound wave that had been tuned-in to the correct frequency.

This leads one to ask: did the conquistadors ever relate to the cultural ideals of their captive country better than their homeland? Did explorers ever long to live "tribally", or feel like a fish-out-of-water upon arriving home? Looking forward to the Enlightenment, it seems that the explorations of Europe paved the way for a new humanist empathy to take root in Europe.

Perhaps we'd do well to rethink our assumptions about the explorers. Maybe they, too, became strangers to their homelands, and in turn, propagated tolerance across Europe for the indigenous world. 

Becoming Greater

“Behold, the man is become as one of us [meaning like the gods]”

Genesis 3:22. The Father of Heaven himself proclaims the unlimited potential of humankind and our destiny to become gods. Man, because of their fall, has received the divine gift of “knowing good and evil”. The possibilities are limitless.

Now what does this have to do with the Renaissance?

After nearly nine centuries of silence, this truth concerning man’s glorious potential rang forth again. In 14th century Italy, a “rebirth” of interest in classical civilization began. The scholar Petrarch, now known as the father of humanism, propelled this movement when he discovered long-lost writings of the great orator and statesman Cicero. Petrarch’s thirst for truer language and self-improvement reflected (and inspired) a yearning for a greater humanity. After the harrowing bubonic plague-- as Gideon Burton eloquently stated, “an equal-opportunity destroyer”-- feudal society’s structured class system and the sedimented economic locks were worn away. Thus, ancient Greek and Roman ideals brought forth by scholars were absorbed by a decimated Europe. Now, however, they were fused with Medieval faith. The hybridization of these worlds-- pagan and Christian, democratic and feudal-- created a unique era known as the Renaissance.

Nowhere is this fusion better embodied than in society’s new attitude towards mankind. The medieval society tended to view man as a lost, fallen creature totally dependent upon God’s mercy and Grace. While movers and shakers of the Renaissance did not deny this dependence upon God, they began to realize man’s potential to become like Him. To do so, they argued, would require a rigorous and well-rounded education, a flair for rhetoric, civil involvement, and a certain dignitas. As Pico Della Melandola stated, ““Let some holy ambition invade our souls, so that, dissatisfied with mediocrity, we shall eagerly desire the highest things and shall toil with all our strength to obtain them, since we may if we wish.”