We have a sporadic tradition here of inviting people to use their most comfortable language when we share the Lord's Prayer. We do this because there are quite a few languages represented among the regular congregation. Indeed, on a Sunday morning, we almost always - certainly at this time of year - have people in worship who speak very little English. There are even one or two people who come regularly to worship who speak no English at all. With a printed order of service, careful announcement of the readings so that people can follow them in their own language, and lots of smiling and handshaking, we manage to build relationships and make something happen. Sharing the Lord's Prayer in our own languages emphasises our links and still gives us all the chance to participate.
I have wondered often about why people come to worship when they don't share the dominant language. On occasions, I have attended worship in other countries, and it is a strange feeling not to be sure what is going on, or at best, making a guess.
But it is also true that actually all of us are attempting to speak and hear in a language not our own when we come to worship. All language of God is so huge, so partial, so striving to speak the unspeakable. We can never fully speak the mystery.
And the words we say of ourselves, the promises we make in the hymns we sing, the offerings we make in our praying, these too are more than normal language - and certainly not our normal language, our everyday speech.
The stories, the promises, the commands and calls we hear when we read Scripture, share bread and wine, open the baptismal pool - such language is foreign to us all, speaking to us in the dialect of the Kingdom, a country we are not fully at home in, but which we look towards.
Having those among us who do not speak the language that the majority speak is a a salutory reminder to all that our worship speech is always a language we are learning, and in which we will always be beginners. But thanks be to God, he still chooses to speak to us.