In the "Window of the Ark" column of the Korean Catholic Times, a scholar of Religious Peace Studies at The Catholic University of Korea sheds light on the phrase: "Language is the root of all misunderstanding."
While language points to external events and internal emotions, it cannot convey them exactly as they are. Language possesses concepts and boundaries, and meaning is transmitted only partially within those limits. Moreover, the "edges"—or boundaries—of the language envisioned by the speaker differ from those envisioned by the listener.
People speak and listen only to the extent of their own experiences, situations, interests, and intentions. Consequently, the content contained within language becomes further restricted, and the speaking mouth and listening ear often fail to align. Consider, for instance, the differing interpretations and reactions of the Democratic Party of Korea and the People Power Party regarding statements made by North Korean leader Kim Jong-un.
Language points to certain content while simultaneously obscuring what lies "outside" that content. For example, if one focuses on the full moon in the night sky, the surrounding stars fade from view. One person might recall literary language upon seeing the full moon, another might engage in astronomical speculation, and yet another might share a romantic conversation. In this way, language functions by aligning with individual interests while inevitably masking other aspects.
Imagining a vast world often places the smaller world within parentheses. For instance, the statement "Jesus is the Savior" evokes God’s eternal and universal providence, yet this association often obscures the humble, everyday details of Jesus's life. The Jesus of everyday life—walking through desert sandstorms, subsisting on bread given in charity, and occasionally relieving himself in solitude—is often pushed into the background by the grand concept of eternal salvation.
Yet, salvation that excludes the everyday is a contradiction. After all, a full moon shines brightest against a dark backdrop. There is no light without darkness, no resurrection without death. One must look at the hidden aspects of the world to truly perceive reality.
Religious people, in particular, ought to reflect more deeply on the meaning of their own words. For instance, when an atheist claims "there is no God," a Christian counters that "there is a God." However, the assertion "there is a God" implies a background—a specific "place" where God resides. If God exists, 'where' is He? Questioning that "place" reveals how human imagination diminishes God; a God located "somewhere" inevitably becomes smaller than that "somewhere." Christians, too, often encounter this paradox.
Take, for example, the verse "God created the heavens and the earth" (Genesis 1:1); one might imagine God somewhere in the heavens, fashioning light, animals, and humans. Yet, the moment one does so, the heavens become an entity greater and more primary than God Himself. It reduces God to a small being dwelling within a vast space. The notion that God is in the heavens elevates the heavens above God, while the idea that God resides within the human heart implies His absence from the human body.
The moment we conceive of God as existing "somewhere," the space *outside* that location becomes a realm devoid of God. We must constantly ask ourselves whether we have unwittingly grown accustomed to imagining God in ways that contradict the fundamental confession that He is the Creator of heaven and earth.
To avoid the contradiction where the statement "God exists" presupposes a space larger than God or a time preceding Him, we must perceive God within all space and time. The space that exists must be God, and the time that changes must be God. If such a perspective feels dangerous, it is evidence that one has not seriously probed the depths of the concept of "God."
Of course, a God who transmits revelations—like radio waves—from a point in the universe to humans (who are smaller than grains of sand) on Earth (which is smaller than a speck of dust) is also God. Yet such a God is imagined in human terms, confined by the limitations of language. To avoid the error of objectifying God in an egocentric manner, we must repeatedly question the concepts, backgrounds, and contexts of the language we use and delve into their depths.
We must not confine God within our existing self-conceptions, nor fall into the delusion that often masquerades as faith. Only then can we encounter God, who dwells in the depths of all things and reveals Himself through their very forms. Does the scripture not say, "For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things" (Romans 11:36)? We must not remain trapped within the ark of language; instead, we must look out the window of that ark and move forward.