The Teacher's Language.
By Inglis
IN order to effective teaching, the language in which we express ourselves must be the ordinary language of good sense and good feeling. Teaching has been seriously injured by the infusion of such a large number of theological terms. When a subject is treated scientifically, we look for scientific expressions; but when it is treated popularly, then we expect popular expressions. In a book on chemistry, the words acid, alkali, caloric, occur as a matter of indispensable necessity; but what pedantry in common conversation to speak of heat as caloric, or of charcoal as carbon. In a book of theology we naturally expect to meet frequently with the words imputation, covenant of works, and federal head; but to what purpose are they introduced in popular teaching? Why should the religion of childhood especially, be taught in so stiff a dialect? The theological terms most in use are such as the following: atonement, imputation, regeneration, justification, adoption, sanctification, righteousness, ordinance, vicarious, substitutionary, punitive justice, covenant of works and covenant of grace, divine sovereignty, propitiation, office of a priest, attribute, advent, curse of a broken law, election, surety, and federal head. Most of these terms are useful for certain purposes, and it is necessary to understand them all; but they are employed as constantly as if the teachers imagined the ideas they express could be taught in no other way; that the word was the doctrine; and that a person who did not know what propitiation or federal head meant, must be absolutely ignorant of what Christ has done for the world. Now, we decidedly object to such words forming the common vehicle of religious instruction. They are little understood, and still less felt. Why talk of the "vicarious satisfaction of Christ," when we might say, "Jesus died in our stead?" The language of religion should be the language of common life—as poetical, graceful, and devout as you will, but entirely untechnical. Familiar words, at whose voice the door of the affections has already opened, will most readily find admission when religion is the theme. We appeal from the practice of the moderns to the example of Jesus and his apostles. Their uniform practice, when addressing individuals, was to speak in the most direct language. Our Saviour says, "Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven." Can anything be plainer than this? In Peter's first sermon he says, "Let all the house of Israel know assuredly that God hath made that same Jesus, whom ye crucified, both Lord and Christ;" and, not to multiply examples, Paul himself, instead of following technical phrases, is pre-eminent for the life and freshness of his language: "Now then, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us; we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God." Are not the apostle's own words worthy of serious attention? "Except ye utter by the tongue words easy to be understood, how shall it be known what is spoken? for ye shall speak unto the air." "I had rather speak five words with my understanding, that by my voice I might teach others also, than ten thousand words in an unknown tongue." Abbot remarks, with his usual good sense, that "children will understand the language of maturity easily enough if the logic and rhetoric are theirs." In teaching, therefore, we need not laboriously omit all the hard terms; let us get into the style of children, and they will follow our meaning. At the same time, one of the ways of acquiring their logic and rhetoric is to study their vocabulary. In avoiding words above their capacity, we learn also to avoid a style above their capacity. We do not plead for a babyish style of language, which reduces everything to the level of the nursery, but for the language which springs spontaneously to the lips of a man who is in earnest about God and the salvation of the soul.—Inglis.