God Speaks

It's a magical thing when you hear the Gospel in your own language. 

One of the hardest things about seeking God is walking into a gathering of His people and not knowing the language. I'm not necessarily talking about the spoken language; I'm talking about the rhythms of worship of any particular congregation. 

You walk in, and it seems like everyone else knows when to stand, when to sit, when to kneel, when to move, when not to move, when to bow their heads, when to take their bathroom breaks, when to break the bread.... It's a choreographed dance that you haven't been to any rehearsals for, and it feels like you're messing it all up. 

I've been there. I get it. 

But it's always been that way. Even from the very beginning, there were those who knew the rhythms and those who didn't. Those who understood what was going on and those who didn't. Those who were paying attention and those who weren't. 

Shortly after the final events of Jesus's life, the believers were gathered in Jerusalem, which you'd think would remember the hubbub of not that many days ago (we are at Pentecost at this point) when Jesus was crucified, then the tomb was empty, then He kept appearing to everyone. But somehow, all of a sudden, the believers are struck and start talking in other languages. 

Not unknown languages, but the languages of the persons around them. Persons who were also right there in Jerusalem. Persons who might have seen some of the events of Jesus's life play out, but not understood them. And all of a sudden, the stories of Jesus are being told impromptu right there in the gathering, in a ton of different languages (Acts 2:6).

For the first time, they were hearing it in their own tongue. 

For the first time, they were "getting" it. 

See, God doesn't have some mystical, magical, other-worldly language that He calls us to learn before we can understand His story. He doesn't have some rhythm set up that we haven't rehearsed. He isn't hiding behind a series of secret steps and movements and motions that we have to figure out in order to get to Him. 

He speaks our language. Whatever that is. Wherever we are. 

It's not gibberish. It's the language of our souls. (And, yes, our tongues.) 

I think that's important for those of us inside the church to remember, especially as we work to intentionally make ourselves welcoming to those who are seeking. To those who have maybe heard a few stories or seen a few things or caught a few whispers but who had never heard the Gospel in the language they actually speak. We have to be mindful about speaking the language of the lost. 

After all, that's what God Himself would do. 

He showed us that much at Pentecost.