Words are icons of reality.

The word ​“tree” isn’t a tree, but it so closely represents the real thing in our minds that the word and the thing are inseparable.

Jesus is called the Word because he is a visible representation of the invisible God. ​“If you’ve seen me,” he said, ​“you’ve seen the Father.”

This close link between word and reality means words have immense power.

When asked for one sentence to sum up her book Caring for Words in a Culture of Lies, Marilyn McEntyre responded, ​“Words matter in more ways than we imagine.” In her Renovaré Podcast conversation, she even makes a case that caring for words is a moral issue.

McEntyre believes words are more than just delivery boxes for ideas; the words themselves can be the idea. This means that when an older word like prudent or noble ​“falls into disuse, the experience goes with it. We are impoverished not only by the loss of a precise descriptor, but by the atrophy and extinction of the very thing it describes.”

It’s worth noting that the point of caring for words isn’t to become perfectionistic about them, making sure we say something exactly the right way for fear of being misunderstood. Using words well with others — and listening between their words to get at the heart of what they mean — is a way to love well. And finding words to speak to God can give language to the groans of our hearts, which is why written prayers can be so helpful, like this one for the Ukraine crisis by the Anglican Archbishop of Sydney, Kanishka Raffel:

Sovereign Lord, you observe all those who dwell on earth. Have mercy we pray on those who now suffer the miseries of a war not of their own making. Have compassion on the wounded and dying; comfort the broken-hearted; confound the hatred and madness of those who make war; guide our rulers, bring war to an end, bring peace across the world. Unite us all under the reign of your Son, the Prince of Peace, before whose judgement seat the rulers of the world will give account, and in whose name we pray. Amen.