How long does it take to learn a language? It depends. I know people who have lived in this country for twenty years but can barely put together a few sentences in broken English. Personally, I started “learning” English around the age of sixteen, mainly from films, songs, and – oddly enough – computer programming in a language called ‘Beginner’s All-purpose Symbolic Instruction Code’; in short: BASIC. The name of that language reflected my level of knowledge in English. Over the years, I used self-teaching books and even took part in a year-long, weekly language course. However, when I arrived in Scotland eighteen years ago, I was under no illusion that my English was any good. I was determined to immerse myself in the language; this meant watching British television (with English captions on), reading British newspapers and books (with a dictionary at hand), listening to British radio programmes (no additional help), and speaking to local people. It’s taken me eighteen years to reach the level of fluency you can hear from me today, as I continue to learn. However, there’s one aspect I have not been able to change completely and will not be able to: my accent. When I open my mouth to speak, it’s instantly obvious to anyone that I’m nae Scottish. I guess in a similar way, the crowds in today’s first reading recognised the Apostles as Galileans, a fact that added to their utter astonishment: “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us in his own native language?”
Their surprise was immense for a number of reasons. In the time of Jesus, the province of Galilee was viewed by the inhabitants of Judea, the Jewish heartland, as a culturally unsophisticated and inferior backwater. It was separated from Judea by Samaria, whose residents were despised as pagans and heretics by both Judeans and Galileans. This meant that whenever the Galileans travelled to Jerusalem, they had to cross Samaria, treading on pagan soil and risking accidental ritual impurity. Consequently, the metropolitan Judeans, as well as many visitors from afar, looked down on the Galileans with contempt. That’s why their unexpected ability to speak foreign languages, merely coloured by their local accent, astonished them so profoundly. The conclusion of today’s first reading suggests that it suddenly earned the Apostles the crowds’ respect and awe. Not quite. In the Bible, the episode concludes with confusion among the crowd and even a rather disrespectful comment: “All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, ‘What does this mean?’ But others sneered and said, ‘They are filled with new wine.’” Simon Peter then used that comment as a springboard for his Pentecostal speech, but that’s another story.
From the spectacular to the sublime. The difference between the noisy, even frantic, action in the first reading and the gospel passage could hardly be greater. In the latter, Jesus instructed his disciples that love must be at the heart of their lives, community, and ministry. These days, there’s massive confusion about what “love” is and what it means. Thankfully, in the original language of the New Testament, there were a few words for “love” with distinctly different meanings, and their use offers great clarity. Jesus and St Paul, the two main figures of the New Testament, almost exclusively employed the word “agape”, the love of the highest quality. Jesus described this in the well-known phrase: “No one has greater love (agapen) than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13-14), but He expanded it beyond friendship: “I say to you, love (agapate) your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” (Matthew 5:44) St Paul had no doubt that this kind of love was highly challenging to practise: “rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die. But God proves his love (agapen) for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:7-8) This type of love, ready to make sacrifices, is so counterintuitive that we need active support from on high: “the Father […] will give you another Helper, to be with you for ever.” However, the Holy Spirit isn’t given to you and me as a friendly, charming, non-pestering lodger, inconsequentially tucked away in a far corner of our lives, called in only when we need some help. So, what is the Holy Spirit for?
These days, learning a foreign language is much easier than it used to be, as numerous resources are available at your fingertips, literally so when using apps on your smartphone. The one I use constantly pesters me with notifications if I neglect or forget to complete my lesson. That’s a good illustration of the fulfilment of Jesus’ promise: “The Holy Spirit […] will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you.” In other words, His job is to prod you and me to keep us learning and practising the language of agape, the love of the highest quality. The more we do, the more fluent we become, eventually reaching the level of the native residents of heaven: our ultimate destination of travel through life.
