Photo Credit Sven Brandsma Unsplash

By Holly Gustafson

As a linguist, I’m interested in everything that has to do with language, so when it comes to Pentecost and the coming of the Holy Spirit, the violent wind and the tongues of fire are great and all, but it’s the next part that really has me intrigued:

“And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in different tongues, as the Spirit enabled them to proclaim. Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven staying in Jerusalem. At this sound, they gathered in a large crowd, but they were confused because each one heard them speaking in his own language. They were astounded, and in amazement they asked, ‘Are not all these people who are speaking Galileans? Then how does each of us hear them in his own native language? We are Parthians, Medes, and Elamites, inhabitants of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the districts of Libya near Cyrene, as well as travelers from Rome, both Jews and converts to Judaism, Cretans and Arabs, yet we hear them speaking in our own tongues of the mighty acts of God.’”

When the apostles spilled out onto the street speaking Iranian, Sumerian, Aramaic, Arabic, Phrygian, and Greek, just to name a few, the large crowd was “astounded and bewildered,” with some even suspecting the twelve had just had too much bad wine. But what the apostles were experiencing is called xenolalia or xenoglossia, from the Greek xenos- meaning “foreign or strange,” and –lalia, “speaking” or -glōssa “tongue or language” – the ability to speak a foreign language that they otherwise did not know.

None of us are likely to ever experience the supernatural gift of true xenolalia (which is linguistically completely different from glossolalia, often referred to in charismatic Churches as “praying in tongues”). That being said, all of us are called to speak in our own way and in our own lives of the mighty acts of God, in a language that those around us can understand. What does this mean?

The language we use when we talk about our faith should be accessible. When we throw around vocabulary – like consubstantiation, or calumny, or even sin – that the average person, particularly non-Catholics, can’t properly place in the context of the teachings of the Church or of salvation history, our words can be at best confusing, and at worst ostracizing.

But even more than accessible, our language should be kind. “Speaking the mighty works of God” is tricky, because God is always engaging with us, inviting us, and challenging us towards repentance and, ultimately, mercy, and this means that in God’s message, we might hear truths about ourselves that are uncomfortable, and even hurt. It’s easy, if we’re not careful, to phrase God’s challenging message in a language that is judgmental, hurtful, thoughtless, or rude.

Thankfully, we have the Spirit to guide us in the language that we use and the message that we speak – Jesus promises us that the Holy Spirit will give us the words we need in the moment that we need them (cf. Luke 12:12). So just as the apostles, imbued with the gift of xenolalia on the day of Pentecost, were understood by all those around, may we, too, invite the Holy Spirit into our own language, so that God’s message may be received by those in our lives who need to hear it most.

Holly Gustafson lives with her husband, James, and four of their five children, in Regina; they attend Christ the King Parish, where Holly works as the sacrament coordinator. Holly teaches linguistics at First Nations University, and pursues her love of the art of language through public speaking, writing, journaling, and calligraphy. The best advice she ever received was from her spiritual bestie, St. Faustina, who told her that when in doubt, “Always ask Love. It advises best.