In Denis Villeneuve's "Arrival," linguist Louise Banks learns the language of alien "heptapods"—and in learning it, her perception of time transforms. Their circular written language expresses entire thoughts simultaneously rather than sequentially. Learning to read it changes how she experiences reality itself.
The film explores the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis: language shapes thought. Different languages don't just express the same thoughts differently—they enable different thoughts altogether. Learn a radically different language, and you might think in radically different ways.
As someone who often thinks in words and relies heavily on linguistic processing, I found this both fascinating and unsettling. And it raised theological questions about Logos—the Word who was with God and was God (John 1:1).
The Heptapod B Writing System
The aliens in "Arrival" use two languages: Heptapod A (spoken, linear) and Heptapod B (written, circular). Heptapod B expresses complete thoughts in single circular logograms. There's no word order, no temporal sequence—the entire meaning exists simultaneously.
Louise discovers that learning to read Heptapod B changes her perception. She begins experiencing time non-linearly, seeing future events with the same clarity as past ones. The language doesn't just describe a different way of thinking—it creates it.
This is Sapir-Whorf taken to its logical extreme. Language doesn't just influence thought; it determines the structure of possible experience.
The Autistic Language Connection
Autistic people often have unusual relationships with language. Some are hyperlexic, reading early and obsessively. Others are minimally verbal or non-speaking. Many think more in images than words.
I think heavily in words—my internal monologue is near-constant. But I've learned this isn't universal. Many neurotypical people think without constant linguistic narration. Temple Grandin famously thinks in pictures.
This suggests language and thought aren't as tightly coupled as Sapir-Whorf implies. People with different linguistic capacities nonetheless think, reason, and understand. Language shapes thought, but it doesn't entirely determine it.
Logos as Ultimate Language
John's Gospel begins: "In the beginning was the Word [Logos], and the Word was with God, and the Word was God" (John 1:1).
Logos means more than "word"—it means reason, principle, rational structure. The Stoics used it to describe the rational principle governing the cosmos. John appropriates this to describe Christ: the Logos through whom all things were made, the rational structure of reality itself.
If language shapes thought, then ultimate reality is shaped by ultimate Language. The Logos doesn't describe creation—it constitutes creation. All that exists is "spoken" into being through the Word.
Creation Through Speech
Genesis presents creation through divine speech: "And God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light." Reality comes into existence through linguistic act.
This isn't metaphorical. It's claiming that existence itself is fundamentally linguistic—that things exist because they're spoken by God. The universe is structured by Logos, rational and intelligible because it's constituted through rational Word.
If "Arrival" is right that language shapes thought, and if creation is through Logos, then creation's structure reflects divine thought-language. The mathematics that describes physics, the logic embedded in natural law, the intelligibility of the cosmos—these aren't just descriptions we impose but reflections of the Logos through whom all things were made.
Learning God's Language
Louise learns heptapod language and gains new conceptual capacities. Could we "learn" divine language and gain deeper understanding of reality?
In one sense, we're already immersed in it. The creation is God's speech—physical reality is divine Logos expressed materially. Natural law, mathematical structure, causal regularities—these are the "grammar" of divine language.
Science is learning this grammar. When we discover physical laws, we're not inventing descriptions but discovering the actual rational structure through which creation exists. We're learning to read what the Logos has written.
The Incarnate Word
But the Logos didn't remain abstract principle. "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us" (John 1:14). The rational structure of reality became a particular human being.
This is staggering. The language that constitutes all existence entered creation as creature. The Logos through whom we were made became one of us.
If learning alien language in "Arrival" transforms Louise's perception, what happens when we encounter the incarnate Logos? Not just learning about God but meeting Him, being addressed by Him, learning the "language" He speaks?
Language and Relationship
Here's where "Arrival" and Christian theology diverge. In the film, language is primarily cognitive—it shapes how you think. But biblical language is relational—it's address, response, covenant communication.
God speaks to create but also to relate. He calls Abraham, reveals Himself to Moses, speaks through prophets. This isn't just information transfer—it's personal address that demands response.
The Logos who was God became human not just to communicate information but to establish relationship. Jesus doesn't just teach us about God—He invites us into fellowship with God.
Different Languages, Same Reality
"Arrival" suggests different languages reveal different aspects of reality. Heptapod B makes non-linear time perceptible; human languages structure sequential experience.
Christian theology affirms something similar about Scripture. God spoke through multiple human languages, cultural contexts, literary genres. Hebrew poetry, Greek philosophy, Aramaic proverbs—each contributes distinct perspectives on divine truth.
This diversity isn't a bug; it's a feature. Different linguistic frameworks illuminate different facets of reality. We need the poetry of Psalms and the logic of Romans, the narrative of Gospels and the visions of Revelation.
The Universal Translation Problem
Communication in "Arrival" requires finding commonalities—mathematical concepts, physical realities—that transcend linguistic difference. Only then can translation begin.
Christian missions face similar challenges. How do you translate "sin" into languages with no concept of divine law? How do you explain "grace" to cultures with no framework for unearned favor?
The answer often involves finding conceptual bridges—cultural narratives, religious intuitions, moral sensibilities—that can be reframed in Christian terms. Not forcing English/Greek categories onto other languages but finding how divine truth can be expressed in those linguistic frameworks.
When Language Fails
"Arrival" shows language transforming thought. But Christian mysticism suggests some realities exceed linguistic expression. The deepest experiences of God might be ineffable—beyond words.
This isn't because God is irrational (He is Logos), but because our linguistic capacities are limited. We see dimly, know partially, express inadequately.
Paul describes "inexpressible words" heard in mystical vision (2 Corinthians 12:4). Negative theology emphasizes what God is not, recognizing positive descriptions fall short. Contemplative traditions value silence—space beyond language where God meets us.
The Autistic Non-Verbal Experience
Some autistic people are non-speaking or minimally verbal. This doesn't mean they don't think or understand—it means their thinking doesn't primarily operate through spoken language.
This challenges linguistic determinism. If thought requires language, non-verbal people couldn't think. But they obviously do—they reason, feel, understand, relate.
Language shapes thought, but it's not identical with thought. Reality can be engaged through non-linguistic modes—visual thinking, pattern recognition, embodied cognition.
Similarly, encountering God isn't limited to linguistic modes. Contemplative silence, artistic engagement, embodied worship—these access divine reality without necessarily using words.
The Eschatological Language
What language will we speak in new creation? Revelation shows people from every tongue praising God—diversity persists. But presumably we'll understand each other perfectly.
Will this be like Pentecost—each hearing in their own tongue? Or like "Arrival"—learning a language that transforms perception?
Maybe both. We'll retain our linguistic identities but gain capacity to communicate perfectly across difference. The Logos who unites all things will enable understanding that transcends linguistic barriers while honoring linguistic diversity.
Practical Implications
What does this mean for how we engage Scripture, creation, and each other?
- Language matters: How we speak shapes how we think; choose words carefully
- Diversity enriches: Different linguistic frameworks illuminate different truths
- Listen deeply: Communication requires learning others' "languages"—conceptual and cultural
- Expect transformation: Encountering divine Logos changes us, not just our information
- Value silence: Some realities exceed words; make space for non-linguistic encounter
- Seek the personal: Language ultimately serves relationship, not just information transfer
Conclusion
"Arrival" imagines learning alien language transforming human perception. Christianity claims something more radical: the ultimate Language became flesh to transform not just perception but being itself.
We don't just learn about Logos—we encounter Him. We're not just adopting new linguistic frameworks—we're being addressed by reality's rational structure incarnate as person.
This transforms more than thought. It transforms existence. We're brought into the divine life, adopted into God's family, made partakers of divine nature—all through encountering the Logos who was God, became human, and invites us into relationship.
Language shapes thought. But the Logos shapes reality. And encountering Him shapes us—not just how we think but who we are.
Louise Banks learned heptapod language and saw time differently. Christians encounter Christ and are transformed entirely—from death to life, darkness to light, slavery to freedom.
Different languages reveal different aspects of reality. The Logos reveals reality itself—and offers not just new perception but new creation.
In the beginning was the Word. The Word became flesh. And those who receive Him are given power to become children of God—transformed by the ultimate Language, shaped by Logos himself, learning to speak the language of new creation.
That's a more profound transformation than any alien language could offer. And it's available not through linguistic study but through personal encounter with the Word who was God, is God, and invites us to know Him.