‘La grande vedette a disparu’
It is now over forty years since I put down my pen at the end of my French O’Level and ended my five year flirtation with the Gallic tongue. Quite why the above expression remains so firmly fixed in my memory I could not say, but if one day I were to find myself in Cannes having to announce that a famous actress has gone missing, at least my years of study would not have been entirely wasted.
Languages then were not my forte at school. French was not my raison d’être, when it came to German I was something of a Dumnkopf, and my approach to Latin was always somewhat ad hoc.
Which is perhaps a shame, for had I lent more towards linguistics, life may have been somewhat simply. Take for example the time I spent in the Northwest Frontier Province of Pakistan, back when I was a medical student. Living alongside a mix of Urdu and Pashto speakers, had I been able to discern who was speaking what language, there may have been less instances of me saying ‘paKhtu Khabaree’ [I don’t speak Pashto] to people who only spoke Urdu and ‘mujhe Urdu nhi ata’ [I don’t speak Urdu] to people who only spoke Pashto!
Furthermore, in recent months I might have communicated rather more effectively with the new friends I’ve made across Eastern Europe, many of whom seem to speak a different language to the one spoken in the county in which they live. And so I know Moldovans who principally speak Russian, Romanians who generally speak Ukrainian, and Serbians whose first language is Hungarian.
It has all been rather confusing.
Which is, of course, the way it’s meant to be, every since, that is, the days of Genesis Chapter 11 when mankind sought to build the Tower of Babel as a symbol of human autonomy, it’s height intended to act as a proud boast by the people of that city that they had no need of God. In so doing, rather than honouring God as they ought, the people wanted instead to make a name for themselves.
It seems though that their plans were somewhat optimistic since, despite planning a tower that they hoped would reach as high as the heavens, God still had to ‘come down’ to see what it was that they were up to. And having done so God then proceeded to frustrate the plans of the people, first by confusing their language, so that they would not understand one another’s speech, and secondly, by dispersing them over the face of the whole earth.
Even so, there would come a time when God would reverse the judgment that fell on Babel, a time when he would come down again, in the outpouring of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost.
For as the disciples, empowered by the Spirit, boldly proclaimed the gospel, not only was the confusion of languages overturned, as ‘each heard the disciples speaking to them in their own language’, but so too did the dispersion start to be reversed, as the task of gathering a family of believers from all four corners of the earth began in earnest.
There has, over the years, been much debate about the phenomenon by which the disciples that day were able ‘to speak in other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance’. But what we can be sure of is the fact that what the disciples said was more important than precisely how they said it.
Because what they shared was the gospel – the good news, not only that Jesus has died for our sins, bearing on the cross the punishment that we deserved, but also that, on the third day, he was raised from the dead, proving that God’s justice had been fully satisfied and we, having been declared ‘Not Guilty’ can now stand before God, no longer fearful of his righteous anger, but rather as those who have been lovingly adopted into his family.
All of which fits with what, some weeks previously, Jesus himself had said to the disciples when he described the Holy Spirit as the ‘Spirit of truth’, the one who would guide them, and indeed ourselves, into all truth whilst simultaneously convicting the world concerning sin and righteousness.
Far then from glorifying himself, the job of Holy Spirit is to glorify Christ and, having revealed to us our need of salvation, so enable us to see in the gospel how that salvation is brought about. Which is why, in churches in which the Holy Spirit is most active, you will hear far less about the Spirit himself, but a great deal more about Jesus and the forgiveness secured by Him through his substitutionary death on the cross. Little wonder then that on that first Pentecost Sunday, the apostle Peter was moved to stand up and preach a Christ-centred sermon, the upshot of which was that about three thousand people came to faith in Jesus.
And that’s why today, Pentecost Sunday, is considered by many as the church’s birthday. But whilst Pentecost is certainly of great significance, I prefer to think of it as the day when the church came of age, when it was, if you like, given the key to the door. Why? Well because the church itself dates back further than the special outpouring of the Holy Spirit that took place that day.
Much further back, in fact.
Further back than the Old Testament prophets, further back than King David, further back, even, than when God chose the nation of Israel to be his special people. Because, since the church is made up of those who put their faith in Christ, be that the Christ of history or the selfsame Christ of prophecy, it follows that Old Testament believers are every bit as much a part of the church as both believers in the New Testament and those who have come to faith over the subsequent 2000 years.
And so it was that Adam and Eve constituted the first Christian church when, back in the Garden of Eden, they believed God’s promise that a Saviour would one day be born.
From those earliest days the church has grown, and all the more so since the day of Pentecost. Today, with the a Bible being translated into ever more languages, and the gospel being taken to the very ends of the earth, the word of God continues to increase. And as it does so, the number of believers multiples greatly and the church grows ever larger. Oftentimes it has been through trials and persecution, but the gates of hell have not prevailed against her – and nor will they ever.
In his great hymn, Charles Wesley wrote these words:
‘O for a thousand tongues to sing
my great Redeemer’s praise,
the glories of my God and King,
the triumphs of his grace!’
Most of us though, whilst we might long for more, have but a single language that we are able to speak fluently. Even so, we can use that one tongue to share the gospel with others.
And as we do, the church will continue to grow, until that time when Jesus returns and stands before a vast multitude of believers, made up of those from every tribe, every people group and every language.
But then, what was foreshadowed at Pentecost, will, I believe, have become a present reality and my inability to speak other languages will no longer matter. No more will I have to struggle to discern Urdu from Pashto, and no more will friends from one country speak the tongue of another, for then we will all, with one voice, be singing God’s praises together.
Because the big star may have disappeared – but the church never will!
Related blogs:
To read ‘An Advent Calendar – Twenty Five Reflections for Christmas’, click here
To read ‘What becomes of the broken hearted? Sorrowful yet always rejoicing on Palm Sunday’, click here
To read ‘Why do bad things happen to good people? Sorrowful yet always rejoicing on Good Friday’, click here
To read ‘Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things? Rejoicing, though temporarily sorrowful, on Easter Day’, click here.
To read ‘The Resurrection – is it just rhubarb?’, click here
To read ‘Faith and Doubt’, click here
To read ‘Ascension Day’, click here
To read “Hope comes from believing the promises of God”, click here
Some musings 