Two things matter in Iceland. One is the language, which has hardly changed at all in a thousand years and is now defended by an annual Icelandic language day (16 November). There is also a group of Icelanders who, like their French counterparts, aim to keep the language from being corrupted by new words coming in from outside. This is not easy.
In their attachment to their distinctive language the Icelanders are much like the Scottish, Welsh and Irish (not to mention the Manx and Cornish) linguistic loyalists who resist the remorseless progress of the English language on the world scene. The value of a common worldwide language by air traffic controllers, for example, is acknowledged but the spread of the global village is accompanied by a growth of regional loyalties, with Icelanders being in the vanguard. There are Icelandic-speaking communities in Canada and the USA, who are bonded together by their inherited language.
Iceland has always been on what might be called a maritime motorway. The Vikings went island-hopping across the north Atlantic, calling at the Shetlands, the Hebridean islands, the Faroes and Iceland. The sea was a highway in those days. Even a journey from Lindisfarne to London was better done by sea than by land. England, we remember, had a Danish king in Canute, son of Fork-beard, who had very sensible ideas about the limitation of his autocratic powers. His rule over an Anglo-Scandinavian empire was brief but business-like.
The second thing that matters in Iceland is its history. Way back, this was stormy and military. The one date to remember is the year 1000. The Althing (representative assembly) met at the Law-rock and decided to adopt Christianity as the national religion, replacing paganism. For the next half-millennium the Christian faith was seen as a national or tribal choice rather than an individual commitment. Resort to force of arms was a likely way of settling matters. The Reformation made its way to Iceland and the national religion switched from Catholic to Lutheran and has remained that way ever since. The imposing Lutheran parish church Hallgrimskirkja is a national monument completed in 1986 that symbolises this history. (A ban on eating horse-meat is a notable factor in the story.)
This understanding of religion and its expression in an Established Church makes us ponder underlying issues we face in England. As far as language is concerned, no two countries could be further apart. On one hand is a pedigree tongue; on the other a mongrel mix. The Vikings would doubtless be surprised by both.
For more on this see ‘The Vikings’ by Martyn and Hannah Whittock (Lion Hudson).
ADELAIDE NETWORK
Trinity Network, Adelaide, South Australia is the result of a 20-year church-planting campaign by the oldest church in Adelaide, Holy Trinity, opened in 1836. Led by Paul Harrington, a multi-ethnic team of young men from varied professional backgrounds – law, sound-engineering, construction, mechanical engineering and general practice – minister in the ten churches of the network in and around Adelaide.
If you have a comment on this post please send an email to Revd John King at johnc.king@talktalk.net Edited extracts may be published. To forward this to a friend click on the chain icon below.
Comments