Today the lost are found in His translation.
Whose mother-tongue is Love, in every nation.
~ From Malcolm Guite's Sonnet for Pentecost
Sometimes, as I'm reading, listening to or speaking another language, I wonder at this capacity I have somehow been blessed with. I grew up bilingual from my cradle, able to process both English and Italian as separate, equally familiar languages; understanding each one as a mother-tongue. Over the years Italian has given me an easy entrance into French, Spanish and Latin, while English helps with basic German. And then there are a couple of other languages and dialects which I cannot speak but can understand - at least in writing - and connections I can somehow make, without quite knowing how.
As with any skill, languages - even native ones - need regular practice to maintain not just fluency, but their primacy within our brains and memories. Small children moved to a completely new environment can eventually forget the language in which they uttered their first words, while accents are modified and assimilated. I will never forget Italian, but if I haven't spoken it for a long time I can make a good start, then stumble and grapple for rarely-used words - though I still understand everything being said. And then I know why we say we "lose" a language rather than simply "forget"it - a mother-tongue lost is a fundamental part of ourselves lost.
There are of course scientific explanations for whatever is going on within my brain, just as science could probably come up with theories about what happened on that first Pentecost within the brains of all those Parthians, Medes and Elamites. All we can say through faith is that on that day there was a Spirit-caused miracle of understanding and unity - and of mother-tongues: and it's a miracle and an understanding and a unity we could all benefit from right now, here in the UK as well as around the world. Because at its heart lies a mother-tongue our world so needs to speak - and needs us to speak: Love.
We were all created in and by Love, and that is indeed our common mother-tongue, in every nation. Deeper and more fundamentally and much earlier than English or Swahili, Hindi or Hungarian, Love was embedded within each one of us. It is the language we can all speak to each other, far beyond the limitations of gutterals and phonic sounds. But just as any language needs regular practice lest it become rusty or lost, so we need to work at maintaining our comprehension and first-language fluency in the words God speaks and yearns to speak within and through us... We cannot, must not, allow ourselves to lose this particular mother-tongue...
Today, feast of unfettered speech and unbounded understanding, would be a good day to ask the Spirit for this gift and this grace, for ourselves and for all in positions of influence and authority.
Happy Pentecost everybody!
Whose mother-tongue is Love, in every nation.
~ From Malcolm Guite's Sonnet for Pentecost
Sometimes, as I'm reading, listening to or speaking another language, I wonder at this capacity I have somehow been blessed with. I grew up bilingual from my cradle, able to process both English and Italian as separate, equally familiar languages; understanding each one as a mother-tongue. Over the years Italian has given me an easy entrance into French, Spanish and Latin, while English helps with basic German. And then there are a couple of other languages and dialects which I cannot speak but can understand - at least in writing - and connections I can somehow make, without quite knowing how.
As with any skill, languages - even native ones - need regular practice to maintain not just fluency, but their primacy within our brains and memories. Small children moved to a completely new environment can eventually forget the language in which they uttered their first words, while accents are modified and assimilated. I will never forget Italian, but if I haven't spoken it for a long time I can make a good start, then stumble and grapple for rarely-used words - though I still understand everything being said. And then I know why we say we "lose" a language rather than simply "forget"it - a mother-tongue lost is a fundamental part of ourselves lost.
There are of course scientific explanations for whatever is going on within my brain, just as science could probably come up with theories about what happened on that first Pentecost within the brains of all those Parthians, Medes and Elamites. All we can say through faith is that on that day there was a Spirit-caused miracle of understanding and unity - and of mother-tongues: and it's a miracle and an understanding and a unity we could all benefit from right now, here in the UK as well as around the world. Because at its heart lies a mother-tongue our world so needs to speak - and needs us to speak: Love.We were all created in and by Love, and that is indeed our common mother-tongue, in every nation. Deeper and more fundamentally and much earlier than English or Swahili, Hindi or Hungarian, Love was embedded within each one of us. It is the language we can all speak to each other, far beyond the limitations of gutterals and phonic sounds. But just as any language needs regular practice lest it become rusty or lost, so we need to work at maintaining our comprehension and first-language fluency in the words God speaks and yearns to speak within and through us... We cannot, must not, allow ourselves to lose this particular mother-tongue...
Today, feast of unfettered speech and unbounded understanding, would be a good day to ask the Spirit for this gift and this grace, for ourselves and for all in positions of influence and authority.
Happy Pentecost everybody!
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