The Wonder of Words

For the three years that we were in middle school, and even beyond that, my sister had a secret weapon. She would sing these words, “Ching chong, ching chong, boop scala vatske, gilly-gilly-gilly vitch on vo, vitch on vo.” That’s nonsense you might say. I was convinced the taunt had meaning. It was some sort of curse or an insult. What made it worse was when my sister sang it in unison with her friend Sylvia, the one who made it up or shared it.

My strength was no match for those words. Is the pen truly mightier than the sword? Perhaps not if the sword has insecurities or feels mocked. I still don’t know the meaning of that chant. It certainly says something for the power of words. “By our speech we can ruin the world, turn harmony to chaos, throw mud on a reputation, send the whole world up in smoke and go up in smoke with it, smoke right from the pit of hell.”

That same chaos can be turned to harmony. Even that ching-chung was a song sung by my sister. Who can not be flabbergasted at these words, “’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe…” Or those deep lyrics of the Beatles, “I am the walrus, goo goo g’joob.” Image bearers are we and we can create complete new languages like the Quenya and Sindarin spoken in Middle Earth.

One wonders, if we’d had different songs sung over us as children if the taunts and blows we’d dealt each other would have happened. Certainly my sister understood that by flinging ching-chung boop-ska-la-vatski she was only making me feel more helpless and angry. I had no magic words. Only anger and force. It could have been worse.

Words and language are wonderful mystical things with great power. I wish our politicians understood that. And our bosses. And some parents. We could sing silly songs over each-other to make us laugh (There once was an old lady who swallowed a fly—perhaps she’ll die). We could sing spiritual songs, songs of blessing and peace. Romantic stories (No more Mr. Darcy please) about deep love and heroic tales. Legends that married the two together.

My sister called today to wish me well. The words we speak to each other now are to bless and encourage. We speak of wine and art and love and life. Life is short we realize. So we sing a different song.                                   

Photo by Glen Carrie on Unsplash