Language, genius, prayer, and God

As a linguist, I continue to be amazed by how much language influences who we are. Our identity. Indeed, one could assert that languages we speak not just shape, but influence, how others see us and how we see our place in the grand scheme of cosmic things. Indeed, how our self-perception and how we’re seen by others interact, giving us our daily experience. Language is an interpretative lens through which we view ourselves and the universe.

Languages we speak give us different experiences in life.

Does that mean the language or languages we pray in matter? Yes, it would appear so.

Languages we speak shape how we think. Some contest that notion but not me. It makes sense to me that our language shapes our relationship not just with ourselves, but with the world and, indeed, with God. Or rather our interpretation of God shaped by our life experience: our upbringing, and so on. The cultural context we are all influenced by. One can be an atheist but still be influenced by a Christian culture, for instance. For example, I call God a self-aware infinity. God has no form, yet God can assume any form He wishes.

How we interpret God depends on our life experience and our life experience is largely shaped by languages we speak. We need words to describe the world, both inner and outer, after all. We pick up language quirks from our parents, even spouses.

Does it mean someone monolingual (someone who speaks one language) has a less profound experience when praying to God? Well, they do say speaking several languages is like having several souls, so yes, we could make that assertion. A bilingual English-Hebrew speaker would an interesting case to look at. Some people even switch between languages when praying because particular words, phrases and passages have more meaning to them in a particular language. Maybe it’s because some phrase in Hebrew reminds them of home when they pray? There are as many reasons as there are people.

I speak several languages, and understand many more, although context is always key. Familiar topics are always easier to figure out from the context. Sadly, my Hebrew is extremely limited and I wouldn’t even classify myself as a beginner.

But language is much more than dictionary definitions. It’s associations, connotations, it’s words and phrases evoking emotions, it’s words that make us cry because they bring up terrible memories or words that make us laugh because they bring up joyous memories. We all have our unique reactions to words and phrases because we all live unique lives and word associations differ from person to person.

We all remember where we were during important events. It’s called hypermnesia. A vivid recollection of emotionally-charged, at times traumatic, events. If someone prayed during a terror attack, for example, that particular prayer is likely going to conjure up the images of that terror attack even years later.

In light of all the above, it stands to reason that the language we pray to God in matters a great deal. Languages we speak and pray in tend to influence, perhaps determine, the depth of our communion with the Creator. Why? Well, for one, our dominant/native language is charged with emotions and associations. It’s not just about words. If I were to pray to God in Hebrew, I wouldn’t have the same emotional connection to the Creator as when I pray in Polish or English. That’s because praying in Hebrew would be detached from my daily experience.

The words of the prayer in Hebrew, as powerful, ancient and nuanced as they are, wouldn’t conjure up the emotions and associations someone, say, from Jerusalem is going to have. I was in Jerusalem once when I was ten. Clearly, my connection to Jerusalem isn’t nearly as strong as of someone who was born and raised in Jerusalem. So, me praying to God in Hebrew, wouldn’t have that emotional impact someone from Jerusalem is going to have when praying in Hebrew.

In my case, it would be a textbook prayer, a bland prayer, but for someone from Jerusalem, praying in Hebrew would be a symphony of sounds, images, culturally-contextualized emotions, hopes and wishes.

As such, yes, it would seem praying in our dominant or native language has a huge impact on our experience of prayer and our interpretation of God. Yes, there are prayers without words, but it’s extremely hard to pray without words. Maybe some people use mathematical formulas to pray or musical compositions. After all, mathematics, too, is a language.

Intelligence, too, can play a major role in how we connect with God. Genius, in particular, is always in a liminal state. Genius isn’t of this world, his mind is almost always out there exploring endless existence, but he isn’t in the other world, the afterlife if you will, just yet.

That liminality can make the prayer of geniuses particularly powerful as they seek answers from God. I believe genius minds are as close to being on God’s wavelength as humans can be.

The reason I write dominant or native language is because I’m of the opinion every language has an infinite range of proficiencies. It’s easy to tell when one is a beginner but it becomes really hard to gauge one’s progress when one reaches advanced level in any language, particularly if it’s a lingua franca (international language) like English. The more fluent one is in a given language, the more powerful and nuanced a prayer in that language can be, as fluency often stems from close interaction with native speakers of a given culture. And culture is also about various forms of prayer.

So, what is God’s language? Hebrew? English? Esperanto? Joking aside, prayer is much more than mere words. It’s a mix of language, our experiences in life, our intent, and a setting in which we feel most comfortable connecting with the Creator. Whatever our understanding of the nature of the Creator happens to be.

I also pray to have my questions answered. For example: what happens to Z-patriot-propagandists in the afterlife?