The word calls us, calls us. I was reading a book by Wendell Berry, taking advantage of these July days when the heat was seeping through the window of my house. The art of caring for the common house (Ed. Nuevo Inicio, 2019). One passage in particular caught my attention. He continues: “I don’t think it’s appreciated enough how much of an “outdoor” book the Bible is. A “book without a roof,” as Thoreau said, is a book where you can see the sky. It is best read and understood outdoors, and the more outdoors the better. Or at least that was my experience. Transitions that seem impossible or unbelievable between pods look completely natural outdoors. And it is so because in the open air we see ourselves surrounded by miracles on all sides; We see that the miraculous is not the extraordinary, but the normal mode of existence. It is our daily bread. It would be hard for anyone who really thinks about lilies of the field or skybirds, and how impossible their existence is in this hot world of cold and empty star distances, to question the transformation of water into wine. It was a minor miracle after all. We forget the much greater miracle that is still going on, the transformation of water (along with earth and sun) into grapes.”
Berry’s language may seem particularly strange to us today, but only up to a point. The connection between writing and tilling for the ancient Romans; culture was distinct between ritual worship and reading. Many of these words (cult, culture, agriculture) share the same etymology in Latin as in the lexical domain that associates the words page, payment, country, or peace. The word page in Latin refers to the arrangement, layout, typography of the letters on the paper. The payoff is land reclaimed from nature and made fertile by human labor. A region becomes a country when it is subordinated to a just order through its rules and institutions. And this government of law is ultimately the government that guarantees peace.
These connections are not accidental: they inform us about the importance of care and the omnipresent value of language. On the one hand, words found humanity – they humanize us – open up horizons, call us to the highest levels and bring us to fruition, on the other hand, they encourage relationships, make us promise, give appreciation. us personally and socially. . In other words, the value of the word is its ability to guide us “from the outside” towards the beautiful and the right. It is as if it evokes us internally, grants us structure and order, connects us from memory to the past and the future.
The word is important. Your care too. It can be said that creation and norms, sublime and trust, truth and beauty depend on the right measure, proportion and wealth; deep down, the value we give it. Truth and lies are not just ideas. They appeal to trust in others and the most intimate part of every person.