God speaks my language | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: God speaks my language | Previous Challenge Entry
By Paul Servini
01/30/07
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Adamou picked up the book and stared wide-eyed at it. His hands lovingly fondled its smooth cover as he took in the immensity of the occasion. Tears welled up in his eyes. God speaks my language; here is the proof. Strangely enough, this awareness was not new to him. He had after all been part of the team that had helped translate this book into his language. But it was only now, seeing the finished book before him, holding it in hands, letting his eyes rove over its pages that this truth really came home to him. God speaks my language!

He turned to the beginning. The book's very first words jumped off the page at him. “In the beginning God created...” This was something he had always believed. Indeed, his tribal traditions affirmed as much, yet with a difference. For in the tradition this god, the chief of all the gods was lofty and distant. The God of his tradition would never communicate, let alone speak a human language. Now, here was the very first page of this book affirming, “God said...; God said...; God said...”

According to tradition God had created and then abandoned. So disappointed was he with humans that he decided, he wanted nothing further to do with them. Indeed, a number of myths existed explaining how this rift came about. Whatever the story, the consequence was the same each time. God wanted nothing further to do with them.

Yet here was this other book telling a different story; about a God who was so majestic, so loving and so just. It also talked of a rupture and of estrangement. But this time, they were not the last words. These were reserved for justice and love; the love of a God who met justice's demands by paying its price himself. That was why Adamou had given years of his life to see this book translated into Podoma. He wanted others to discover this God who not only spoke their language but also became one of them. And now the book was ready. He held it in his hands. He could at last share its message with the loved ones around him.

He slipped to his knees and lifted up his heart in adoration to God. He did so in his own language because God not only spoke Podoma, he also understood it. It was their secret language, the language of his heart.

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