LIGHT THE WAY

When language shifts, meaning follows.

There is something quietly revealing about what we don’t see in Scripture.

For a text that references animals, nature, agriculture, and daily life so frequently, one thing seems noticeably absent:

Cats.

This is especially striking when we consider that in neighboring cultures—particularly ancient Egypt—cats were not only present, they were deeply significant.

They symbolized protection.
They were associated with spiritual awareness.
They were woven into both daily life and religious identity.

And yet, in the Bible, they are nearly invisible.

At first glance, that might seem like a small detail.

But it raises a much bigger question:

If something culturally significant like a cat can be left out—

What else may have been shaped, filtered, or simplified over time?

Not because it didn’t exist.
Not because it lacked meaning.

But because human beings made decisions about what to include, what to emphasize, and what to preserve.

And that’s where this becomes less about animals—

and more about how understanding is formed.

Scripture is inspired.

But it was still:

Written by people.
Translated by people.
Copied by people.
Taught by people.

And people are shaped by:

Which means there is always a human layer in how truth is communicated.

That does not weaken truth.

But it does affect how clearly it is understood.

When we think about Babel, we often focus on language being divided.

But the deeper impact was this:

Understanding was divided.

From that moment forward, humanity no longer shared:

So as truth was passed down across generations, it moved through different perspectives.

And those perspectives shaped how it was recorded, translated, and taught.

This does not mean God lost control.

It means that human limitation became part of the process.

Which raises a deeper thought:

What if this fragmentation wasn’t separate from God’s will—

but part of the Babel pattern itself?

Not to hide truth—

But to require people to seek it.

To wrestle with it.
To discern it.

Because truth that is discovered is often understood more deeply than truth that is simply repeated.

In ancient Egypt, cats were seen as protectors.

They guarded food supplies.
They symbolized watchfulness.
They were associated with divine presence.

In contrast, Hebrew culture developed with a strong emphasis on distinguishing itself from surrounding religious practices.

So what happens when a culture defines itself in contrast to another?

It doesn’t just reject beliefs.

It filters symbols.

Certain things are emphasized.

Others are left out.

Not because they don’t matter—

But because they don’t align with the identity being preserved.

As Scripture moved from Hebrew to Greek…
From Greek to Latin…
From Latin to English…

It wasn’t just translated.

It was interpreted.

Each step required decisions:

What word fits best?
What idea will people understand?
What cultural reference carries over?

Sometimes meaning is preserved clearly.

Sometimes it is simplified.

Sometimes it becomes narrower.

And sometimes, pieces of context quietly disappear.

Not out of deception—

But because translation always carries limitation.

There is another layer to translation that often goes unnoticed.

Not just what is translated—

But how it is taught to be understood.

Throughout Scripture, Jesus often taught in parables.

Stories.
Metaphors.

Because stories invite reflection.

They require thought.
They require interpretation.

A story does not control understanding—

It awakens it.

For much of history, most people could not read.

Access to written texts was limited.
Translation was controlled.
Interpretation was delivered by a small group.

Understanding became centralized.

And when meaning is presented as fixed and unquestionable—

power concentrates.

Because the ones who interpret become the ones who define.

While some cultures preserved truth through writing, others carried it through story.

Indigenous traditions passed down wisdom through oral history.
Through nature.
Through lived experience.

These stories were not always literal.

But they were deeply true.

They taught identity, connection, responsibility.

In many ways, this mirrors how Jesus taught.

Not through rigid instruction—

But through layered meaning.

There is something else worth noticing when we read Scripture honestly.

Many stories are written in ways that feel supernatural.

A burning bush that speaks.
Visions.
Voices.
Dreams.

But most people today do not interpret these experiences literally.

They are not expecting a voice from the sky.

So the question becomes:

What was actually being described?

Ancient cultures described spiritual experiences using symbolic and experiential language.

A burning bush may not just represent what was seen—

but what was understood.

Because when we look closer, these moments share a pattern.

They happen in stillness.

In solitude.
In reflection.

Moses was alone.
Prophets withdrew.
Jesus sought quiet.

These were moments of clarity—

not noise.

And this is where it connects to us.

Because people still experience this today.

Not as something external—

But as something within:

Most people already trust this.

They just don’t always recognize it as spiritual.

Scripture reminds us:

And that we are created in God’s image.

Which means we were not created to be disconnected from truth—

We were created to recognize it.

To understand it.
To respond to it.

Over time, as Scripture was translated and taught, something shifted.

People were taught what to think—

instead of how to discern.

And when that happens, people begin to doubt their ability to recognize truth.

They begin to look outward for every answer.

And in doing so, they disconnect from something that was always there.

So when we notice something as small as a missing animal—

it reveals something much larger.

If something culturally significant can be left out—

What else has been shaped?

Filtered?

Simplified?

Not to deceive—

But to define.

And when understanding is shaped without full context—

division becomes easier.

When context is missing, people fill the gaps.

With assumption.
With fear.
With incomplete understanding.

We’ve seen this throughout the series:

When context is removed,
meaning becomes fragile.

And fragile meaning is easily shaped.

We live in a world full of information—

but not always understanding.

Discernment requires more than reading.

It requires:

And the willingness to look deeper.

This is not about questioning truth.

It is about seeking it more fully.

Because God’s truth does not depend on perfect translation—

But our understanding does.

And when we explore:

We don’t lose faith.

We deepen it.

I seek understanding, not assumption.
I trust my ability to recognize truth.
I approach knowledge with humility and curiosity.
I am open to deeper meaning.
I walk in discernment, wisdom, and light.

God,

Thank You for truth that remains steady even when our understanding is limited.

Help me to seek clarity with humility,
to trust discernment,
and to grow in wisdom.

Guide me beyond surface-level understanding
and into deeper awareness.

Let me recognize truth not only in words,
but in understanding.

Amen.

A missing cat may seem small.

But it reveals something much larger.

Language shapes meaning.
Culture shapes understanding.
And when context is lost, clarity follows.

Not because truth disappeared—

But because pieces of the story did.

Maybe God has never stopped speaking.

We’ve just been taught to look for His voice in the wrong place.

In solidarity,
Lyndsay LaBrier
Merchant Ship Collective