Today in church, in the spirit of Pentecost and the unity it represents through language, the priest invited us to say Our Lord’s Prayer in our native tongues.
It was such a beautiful thing to witness, voices rising together in different languages, yet united in one prayer and one faith.
Some people, unable to speak their native languages fluently, prayed in English instead, and that was beautiful too.
But for me, there was something deeply special about saying my Nna anyi nŏ n’enigwe in the church, after a long time.
In that moment, I felt proud…proud of where I come from, proud of my language, and grateful for a tradition that reminded us that God understands every tongue and every voice.
It reminded me that language is more than just words, it carries memory, identity, history, and belonging.
Hearing so many different languages spoken together felt like a glimpse of what Pentecost truly means, that despite our differences in culture and speech, we are still one people united in faith and love.
There was something powerful about realizing that no language was too small or forgotten before God. Each voice mattered, each tongue carried meaning, and together, they formed something deeply moving and beautiful.
May God continue to unite us beyond language, culture, and background, and may we never lose the beauty of the voices and identities He has given us. Amen.
Happy Pentecost Sunday, brethren ❤️
✍️ Amara Ann Unachukwu
