Into Culture: Lingua Communis II

In the first Lingua Communis post I began to articulate the cultural underpinning of language. I described an encounter with a Slovak family and their neighbours and reflected on the complexities of communicating and connecting with them over a linguistic divide. Since that time I have become more adept at Google Translate but this has only confirmed my declaration all those months ago,

Language is cultural; sharing the same linguistic language does not mean you share the same cultural language.

This month I went on holiday to Spain and Portugal. My wife and I booked ourselves on a coach trip through an online company. The booking stated that the tour would be in Spanish and English. When we arrived at the pick up site in Madrid early on the first day we found no one in the office spoke english and I fumbled my way, with Google Translate, through discovering if we were in the right place on the right date at the right time. After a fretful 30 minutes a tour guide came in and asked us in Spanish if we were on her tour. We vaguely understood the place names involved in our tour and so said, “Si/Yes”. Thus we met the lovely Orphelia, our Spanish tour guide who, we quickly discovered, spoke beautiful English. For a moment we thought that the tour was going to be challenging not having any way of navigating this new place without verbal communication.

That morning as we set off on our journey, Orphelia said something powerful,

Growing up in my family home, I was taught we were always to speak only the language of our guests.

Despite the coach being full of Spanish speakers with little to no English, for the rest of our tour everything was spoken in both Spanish and English. Orphelia asked just one thing from us: we were to learn some Spanish… even just one word. I vowed to learn more and to start all conversations with Orphelia and to attempt requests/questions in Spanish.

How might I practice my tour guides axiom ‘to speak the language of our guests’? What would this approach to hospitality look like in my context and ministry? Should I become more willing, even before the question of ability, to step over the linguistic divide to make people feel welcome? Is this necessary and/or enough to build a meaningful connection with an other and begin the journey towards unity of heart and mind?


As part of our Spanish/Portuguese tour we visited the Shrine at Fatima in Portugal. I had been before and on my previous trip had attended Mass in Latin. This time the only languages available to us were Portuguese or Polish; we opted for Portuguese, in the hope that there might be some words I could learn for the Portugal leg of our journey.

Coming from a Roman Catholic background, and knowing that the Church of England’s liturgy remains similar to the rites from our historic roots, celebrating the Eucharist in a foreign language is not so much of a problem for me. Although I could not follow the words in Portuguese, I knew, by ritualistic action and the shape of congregational responses, where we were in the service. I could follow and feel a small part of the family by my knowledge of the cultural practice even if the lexicon was different. I experienced a glimpse of understanding that went beyond spoken word; a unity with others as we worshipped together in our different heart languages, despite mine not being the primary lingua communis.

In Bradford I attend an Urdu/Hindi bilingual service as often as I can. This service is led in both Urdu/Hindi and English. I sing along to the Urdu/Hindi songs. I translate the title and, if there is one, the refrain/chorus but apart from that I participate in my limited way. The experience of being a guest in a community that do not primarily speak my language gives me an insight into the experience of those who come into an English church wanting to worship but with little to no grasp of words we speak. It is a challenging exercise but one that humbles me and makes me reflect on the nature and necessities of worship; in spirit and in truth. This Urdu/Hindi congregation go out of their way to speak English with me but I am unable to reciprocate in any meaningful way, although I am trying to learn conversational Urdu.

Although I can get by in worship and prayer in these contexts without syntactical understanding, when it comes to preaching/teaching I am at sea. I have been reflecting with my clergy colleagues about intercultural preaching at Bradford Cathedral. There has been some concerns and confusion from members of our congregation from different etnic and cultural backgrounds around a sermon I preached some weeks ago on Peter’s attempt to walk on water. I won’t go into the detail of the sermon but during it I made the point that the attempt to defy gravity by Peter was instigated not by Jesus but Peter himself. He says, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” (Mt 14:28) I was struck by the similarity of the phrasing in the temptation accounts earlier in the gospel where the devil says, “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread/throw yourself down.” (Mt 4:3,6) In an attempt to make the point I suggested that “there is, maybe, something demonic in Peter.” I pointed out that there is further evidence that later in the gospel Jesus responds to Peter’s refusal to accept the need for Jesus to die by saying, “Get behind me, Satan.” (Mt 16:23). This was not the major point of the sermon but rather was leading me to the point that we need discernment and humility when we seek to follow Christ. For those from different cultures, although they speak good English, the word ‘demonic’ caused questions to their understanding of my teaching. They heard that their preacher was saying that Peter was demon possessed. I did not mean that but I can see, in hindsight, how they came to that conclusion. 

Again, the challenge to be united in heart and mind with my fellow human beings is both linguistic and cultural. In some cases it is enough to share a culture without the need for a shared lexicon like in the Portuguese Mass and the Urdu/Hindi service. In other cases it requires a shared spoken/written language for connection to be made and deepened particularly in the context of preaching/teaching. For this reason the instinct to start with a shared lexicon in order to develop a shared culture still remains necessary in most instances. We cannot agree the parameters and rules of a shared life without common linguistic understanding. Could worship, however, be able, in some ways, to bypass the linguistic divide and aid the creation of unity before a shared language is established? What would be involved in this process?

As Bradford Cathedral seeks to ‘excel in intercultural worship and seek to better reflect our city’s many cultures and ethnicities within our community life’ it might not need to mean, in the immediate, doing worship completely in other languages in a reactive way to the people who join us. It will not be enough, even if it were possible, to learn, to a good standard, the linguistic language of all who come through our doors. There will also be times when there are multiple guests with diverse languages at the same time. We must still show willing to meet the other halfway in the linguistic exchanges, enough to establish trust in order to walk together towards a shared culture between us. It will need to start with an acknowledgement of the linguistic divide and to show an openness to all tribes and tongues to add their voice to our shared song of praise.

If we are also to ‘be a centre of intercultural practice, learning from and encouraging other local churches’, I am mindful of the work we must do to follow the rule of thumb ‘to speak the language of our guests.’ How we do this outside of praise and prayer, in preaching/teaching or administrative spaces, for example, is more complex. There are two translations required: one linguistic and the other cultural and these must be done simultaneously and with a great deal of humility. Through mutual linguistic translation the real work is to teach one another and to all input into our shared cultural life.

I think it is willingness that is important. I am ashamed with my lack of ability to speak other languages. I am passionate about language and I have attempted to learn many languages over the years. I have not persevered and have put it down to not having the necessary aptitude to do it. I envy others who can speak multiple languages and who have settled in other cultures. They say the best way to learn is to submerge and force yourself to survive in the foreign land and tongue. This is where my commitment to intercultural practice must begin: to force myself and show a willingness to be immersed in the experience of foreignness as often as I can. To experience again and again the feeling of lostness when you are unable to communicate with spoken/written language. To welcome opportunities in my ‘home’ to speak the language of my guest. In this way I want to seek a shared cultural language that transcends a limited lexicon.

Mein is kaam ke liye khud ko paband karta hon (Urdu)/ I commit myself to this work.

One comment

  1. Really thought provoking piece.I’m a communicator by profession (performer)and love connecting with people both on and off stage but I too have struggled with other languages.But the high is profound,when some crazy, physical story I m flinging myself about telling, breaks through the barriers with both adults and children with all sorts of language issues.Connection is everything even if at a very simple level.

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