“He spoke in simple words. He sighed”: Dr Tan Lai Yong on the personal language of Jesus in the Gospels

It was a simple church service, but as the room was filled with refugees from different nations, the message was interpreted into several languages. 

The main group spoke in a Middle Eastern language, while there was a family of Rohingyas on the side and some Tamil-speaking families in the corner. 

Their languages may have been different, but they shared a common history of fleeing from war-torn homelands and conflict zones. 

Listening to the heart

Ministry among refugees is tough.   

One family told us of being adrift in a small boat for days. Even after reaching dry land, they have been stuck in limbo for more than 10 years while waiting to be moved to a new country.

I am usually at a loss as to what to say or think or pray when I’m with refugees. What comfort can I bring to them amidst their stagnation?

After service one day, a young man said to me: “May I ask you some questions … privately?”

We stepped into a quiet corner of the room. I had no idea what to expect and was dismayed that I had little to offer. 

I remembered how another church member had spoken to me in hushed tones, afraid that his words would be overheard. He and his family had received papers to emigrate to a western nation after more than 10 years of waiting. 

“Please pray. Please pray nothing bad happens to disrupt or delay.” 

I wanted to shout for joy with him. But the lifeline seemed so fragile that he hardly dared to whisper. 

Another time, a young father shared that his baby had a hernia and he did not know what to do. I was relieved as that was “solvable”. Some red tape was required to get the documents and funds for the hospital visit. But at least that was a task we could get our hands on. 

So I wondered what this young man in front of me had to say. He was shy.

I asked him how things were. He replied: “I am okay,” then added, “But my hair is turning white. Can you help me?”

With weighty issues of bombs going off in their homeland, and news of persecution and gender based violence, he was almost embarrassed to talk about his hair.   

But he shared confidentially: “I am a young man. But my hair has gone white.” We talked a little, then shared a few moments of silence. He smiled, his face brightened, we shook hands goodbye.

It was a simple exchange, but an unmistakable connection had taken place.

Language that heals

We know that the Old Testament was primarily written in Hebrew and the New Testament in Greek. 

However, in the New Testament, as in the Old Testament, there are portions – short phrases, to be exact – of Aramaic. These are found mainly in the Gospels.

There are four occasions in the Gospel of Mark when the words of Jesus are recorded, likely verbatim, in Aramaic. Three of these are in Mark 5:35-43, Mark 7:31-37 and Mark 15:34 where we read: “And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani.”

Why would the Gospel writer switch from Greek to Aramaic at these moments? Think about it – Jesus was speaking in Aramaic to a dead girl, a deaf man and, when on the cross, crying out to a very distant God: “Eloi Eloi …” 

The words on the cross are from Psalm 22 and Christ would likely have memorised the original Psalm in Hebrew. Yet these agonising words were uttered in Aramaic and recorded in Aramaic in the Gospels.

Traditionally, it is believed that Mark wrote his Gospel for Gentiles who would become Christians. They would have spoken Aramaic.  

Writing in Greek meant that the Gospel could travel swiftly throughout the Roman empire, explaining the reason that the bulk of the Gospel is in the formal work language of Greek.

But the intense, yet intimate, moments the audience hears the words of Jesus in ordinary language are moments aimed at the heart.

The death and atonement of sins on the cross is not couched in lofty theological jargon, but in words that resonate in the hearts of the hearers – at the cross and in the early church: “The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20:28 ESV)

In the case of the girl who had died, sceptics outside were scoffing. Her parents were in deep grief and would hear the assuring words of Jesus: “Talitha cumi.” (“Little girl, I say to you, arise.”) (Mark 5:35-43)

In Mark chapter 7, Jesus took the man who was deaf to a private place. “And looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, “Ephphatha”, that is, “Be opened.” (Mark 7:34 ESV)

These were not magic words, spells or talismanic utterances. They were simply daily, Aramaic words that touched hearts and heal bodies. And Jesus was intensely personal – He spoke. He sighed. 

Perhaps the Gospel writer kept these Aramaic phrases to herald that Christ, the Son of God, is also the Son of Man – fully human despite being divine.

“Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you.” (Deuteronomy 31:6 ESV)

This is the final of Dr Tan’s devotions in his series on The Language of Hearts and Minds. Read the first devotion here and the second devotion here. 

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