I began my first day of teaching with optimism. I had
prepared my lessons and prayed for God’s grace. I thought I was ready.
The day began with a frightening
talk from pastor Gill about cell phone usage in class—the Ethiopians soon
learned what “airplane mode” was. Then he introduced us as the teachers,
assigned trainees to our groups, and sent us to the room or mango tree where we
would teach.
I have never taught with an
interpreter before, and it did not take long to realize how difficult it was. I
felt like a carpenter who had lost his hammer and had to resort to using a rock
in order to pound nails and build a house. Any teaching abilities or skills I
had seemed to be gone. I did my best to communicate clearly and concisely, I
finished my lesson for the day, but I returned to the hotel looking like
Quasimodo. I was discouraged and frustrated. The day had not gone as I planned
or hoped. The language barrier felt insurmountable.
In Genesis 11, God judged the
people of Babel for their pride by confusing their language and dispersing them
over the face of all the earth (Gen 11:8). I tasted this curse like never
before, and it was bitter. I desired to know the students beyond just their
names. I longed to be able to teach these brothers and sisters directly. I
wanted to communicate my emotions as well as my thoughts. I wanted to know that
they understood me fully and grasped what I was teaching. But I could not.
After an encouraging talk with
Jason, some prayer, and a semi-good night’s sleep, I returned to the school to
teach again. Slowly, I learned how to teach through an interpreter and the
students began to understand me and interact more with my teaching. Slowly, I
got to know the students better. And
slowly, God showed me that we are more similar than different. He showed me
that although we speak a different language, we speak to the same God. And
although it may sound different, we have the same confession of faith. The same
Spirit that filled the first Christians at Pentecost was dwelling in us. And
although he was not causing us to speak in the same language, he was causing us
to praise the same God. And our language differences did not stop the Spirit
from using me to teach them and using them to teach me.
Ethiopians are amazing singers. And
although I do not understand a word they are singing, I am still worshipping
God with them. And as I do, I am looking forward to the day when I will stand
with Ethiopians and every other nation, tribe, and people and cry out, “Salvation
belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” (Rev 7:10).
-Nate Weller
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