Ann has enjoyed the second series of The Bridge, and has started watching the first. It’s Swedish, with subtitles. Whenever it is on, I think she’s watching Pingu.
We had a lot of Pingu videos. We all loved it. It’s amazing how much you can understand from what the little penguin says, even though you can’t recognise a single word.
It reminds me of Pentecost – not that I was there, I hasten to add. It puts me at the scene that is so graphically described. Disciples speaking in tongue they do not understand, but everyone present able to hear clearly the glory of God expressed in the language they understand.
And, I suspect, any Yorkshireman there would have heard it in a familiar Yorkshire dialect.
I can’t prove that, but God’s speech to us is usually phrased in such a way that betrays a knowledge of who we are, and a disarming chuckle at our peculiarities. So I think God speaks in informed dialect. Not just Authorised King James English.
But, as ever, hearing and listening are not the same, and our listening ears usually need us to be ready to respond to the message we will hear to enable the switch to be turn to ON.
‘Let God speak, and I will listen,’ as the song simply says.