Half a pace behind: Leading a service in Welsh

I have noticed that whenever I lead a service in Welsh, the act of worship takes a little longer. It is not that there are more pauses, but that I say the words more precisely. I might be tasting the words, perhaps savouring them, although practically I am slowing down so as not to make as many mistakes. I am half a pace behind where I would be using English.

One of the delights of coming to Wales has been the chance to get to grips with another language. I am not a linguist, although can read various ancient languages, which is a joy that comes from having been, prior to ordination, a NT research student and tutor.

There is something inevitably vulnerable about suddenly only having the linguistic capabilities of a young child. Initially, in one language, I might make a stab at talking theology, in the other; I could manage ‘lle dach chi’n byw?’ (Where do you live)? In one memorable moment, I realised I could pronounce iachawdwriaeth (salvation) and not ask for a pint. This has now been addressed.

Leading worship is though done from a place of weakness, vulnerability and openness. This is the more true when leading in a second language. I am not referring to the learning of words and correct pronunciation, which although important are perhaps not the most important facets for taking worship in a language other than your mother tongue. Whilst, not the most important; discipline and regular learning is essential. It is an incarnational thing.

Language is a gateway to another culture. Until that is appreciated, you cannot begin to learn another language. Whilst language learning can be simply a case of what does this mean in that language, which is an important building block, learning to speak a different language moves you into a different place. It is impossible to be unaffected by it. This is not a simple reference to the struggle to get to grips with mutations, or in my case the quiet panic of having to speak publicly and clearly at key moments of people’s lives.

 
In the process of learning, everything slows down. This is obvious, perhaps. I need to accept my limitations, for example, I might want to say something, which in English I could do with ease, but in Welsh, simpler ways need to be found in order to accommodate my limitations. Moreover, as time goes by, it is not just my limitations that are exposed, but what I might want to say in my mother tongue cannot be said in Welsh. Direct translation therefore becomes stilted at times. Thus, in the learning, I must make time not just to memorise new words, but begin to hear the spiritual rhythm of the language itself. Perhaps in a sense you do not learn a language without living it.