So I found myself reflecting on the biblical narrative of Babel as I wandered past the language school last night on my search for dinner.  I’m in Ubud, Bali for a language proficiency assessment and trial – I hope to do some more training early next year and wanted to see if this might be the place where I hand in my brain for a three month beating.
But I was thinking about Babel, and how if it weren’t for those idiots and their towering arrogance, my cross-cultural work would be significantly easier. I would have got what I thought I ordered for dinner; I might have understood the real reason why that project failed; I would have been able to laugh along with that joke that was made as I wandered through the markets; I would have been able to articulate more gently and graciously why funding wasn’t given for that program and why I’m not so keen on durian.  And so the curse of Babel continues to sow confusion, frustration and relational distance.
But paradoxically there’s another part of me that cherishes the contrast and perspective that another language provides. I love the staccato rhythm of Bahasa, and I enjoy attempting the intonation. I love the use of ‘kak and adik – ‘older/younger sibling’ when addressing someone of a similar age who you are close to. I appreciate the gentle and relational, longer way that Bahasa seems to travel; it appears to be more concerned about the person it is addressing than getting the message across quickly. I am fascinated by the way Bahasa, like English, has words to express things like gratitude, love and forgiveness – isn’t it interesting that these concepts transcend cultures? – and I am intrigued by the particular situations where Bahasa deems it important to have more nuanced words than English does – like the word ‘rice’ – padi, gabah, beras, nasi. I love learning Bahasa’s idioms – buah tangan – ‘fruit of the hands’ – a visitor’s gift. I love the way each local area tweaks Bahasa slightly, so that people know that I have learnt most of my Bahasa in the rural areas of NTT though to me it all sounds the same.  Attempting to learn Bahasa is teaching me more than just how to communicate in another language; there’s so much beauty that wants exploring in the belly of another language.
As I reflect on the Babel story in light of Jesus, it all makes a little more sense: for it’s only here that I can begin to understand how evil intentions might be turned into blessings by a creative and redemptive God. It is only here that an instrument of death like the cross can become the key to eternal life, where God ultimately and creatively turns the devil’s attempts at evil into masterpieces of beauty.  It is in light of Jesus that relational distance through language also has the possibility of drawing me closer, through learning a language, to Bapak di sorga dan saudaraku di Indonesia – Father in heaven and Indonesian siblings – by highlighting and drawing out their unique reflection of His person and character, their imago Dei.  Is this not attempting the two highest Christian goals of loving God and loving neighbours?
And so I head into this afternoon’s language session confident that this too – in an unusual way perhaps –  has the potential to be a participation in the good news of Jesus and the restoration of all things.