[Disclaimer: I recognize that good can function as a noun while pleasant cannot, but I think my point still stands.]
Languages are dynamic. Like living organisms, they change
over time. Some develop, others die along with their people groups, and still
others morph due to societal factors and the influence of other languages. The
English language is no exception. For example, the progress of technology has
decreased the demand for words like rewind,
cassette, and darkroom. Another example: In the 1980s, the word cool
became popular to say for all kinds of
uses. Those of us born in that decade probably still use it as slang, but as
its popularity seems to fade, it may not be as cool to use it anymore.
Beyond the flux of idioms and clichés, I have observed
communication confusion due to semantic breakdown. Situations supply
connotations for words that eventually adapt to a manipulated range of meaning
as people confuse denotation with connotation. To be plain, a person will
ascribe a meaning to a word beyond its “original” range of meaning because of
the idea or feeling the word invokes. It seems to me that as more people do
this to the same word, the word’s semantic range expands. Expansion, however,
can lead to near replacement in meaning, which causes the communication
confusion.
I faced this phenomenon over the winter while on the
backside of a family crisis. My mom nearly died from sepsis; my dad was
diagnosed with stage four colon cancer, underwent major colon surgery, and
began chemotherapy; my uncle was diagnosed with incurable bone cancer the same
week as my dad; I was sick five times with five different illnesses in one
month; a good friend moved to South Korea for a year while I was out of state
with my parents, a different friendship ended after returning home, and another
friend temporarily abandoned me; and a week after my return I started a new
seminary semester and resumed my service to my church family. All this happened
in the span of two months. The question was inevitable: “How are you?” My
response: “I don’t know.” Another inevitable question: “How are your parents?”
I would try to answer positively.
What is the common response to such questions? “Good.” I
struggled to know how to answer because, as the Lord sustained me, sometimes my
inner being was in a good state though the circumstances were grim. If I
answered “good,” however, the person would likely interpret me to mean that I
feel no pain or am unaffected by the circumstances, as if they were pleasant.
For me to say that things were pleasant would be a lie, but to say that I was
good (which grammatically should be well)
would not be. Do you see the dilemma? Good does not equal pleasant.
Since the Bible is my ultimate authority, it shapes much of
my understanding of the word good.
Scriptures like Romans 8:28-29, Hebrews 12:10, Deuteronomy 7:24, and Genesis
50:20, in their contexts, present a different “good” from how we often
understand it today—very different. Someone tells us how an event went, and we
say, “Oh, that’s good.” I am not saying that this use of good is wrong. I think it is appropriate to associate good
with favorable circumstances. On the other
hand, I am saying that using the word very liberally cheapens its greater use.
Throughout the winter I was often crushed in spirit. Even
when the darkness would lift a little, I felt the deep inner wound. I thought
much of Jeremiah 15:18-19. When I returned to Louisville, I asked Frodo’s
question, “How do you pick up the pieces of an old life?” I know that now, if I
try to recount all that God has done for me to carry me through and begin
healing, my reflections would be incomplete. Let me just say that I have indeed
tasted and seen that the Lord is good (Psalm 34:4). A sweet and intimate
knowledge of him such as I have now I would not have otherwise known. Toward
the end of my time in Missouri, I was thankful for sharing in Christ’s
sufferings. I did not maintain this thanksgiving consistently in the days
following, but to know it for a moment is worth it all. That is good. And the goodness does not stop there. Like in
Genesis 50:20, what God did and is still doing is bringing about good for other
people, not just my family and me.
The catch in the disparity I have observed between good and pleasant is that within this good I have put forward is pleasantness. It is
just not pleasantness seen from the outside. It is not the sort of pleasant
we naturally conceive. We must be retrained
in order to grasp the greater use of good. From all this we see that sometimes good is misunderstood because of its association with pleasant, and the confusion spreads as its frequency
increases so that they are sometimes considered equivalents. Do they overlap?
Yes, but not entirely. I tell you, good does not equal pleasant.
