Austin's Blog

I’m at a Bible translation conference this week presenting on some topics related to the discipline. I think a lot about oral Bible translation. I also think a lot about death since my son died. And in a strange, sacred way, I see affinities between translation, death, and love. Translation is retelling the meaning of a message from one language into a new language. It’s about conveying the heart of the message so that it can be understood in a new context.

When someone dies, they are “translated” in a way. The “meaning of the message” isn’t lost. It is retold into a new language. If they are a believer, it is a heavenly language. One that is better. One that is all gain. The message of their life isn’t erased. It’s carried forward into a new language.

John Donne writes, “All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated… As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come: so this bell calls us all… No man is an island, entire of itself… any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.” The chapter isn’t torn out, crumbled up, and then trashed. They are translated. 

When someone we love is translated, we are left with the work of love in a language we never wanted to learn. In a way, our love now must be expressed in a new language. The chapter of their earthly life is over so our love for them must be translated. One writer notes, “Grief is perhaps the last and final translation of love. This is the last act of loving someone. And you realize that it will never end. You get to do this to translate this last act of love for the rest of your life.” 

How do we translate our love for them? 

We think about them. 

We do things in their honor. 

We live worthy lives that would make them proud. 

We speak their name. 

We steward their legacy. 

We remember them.