I love the Helong translators prayer, “Thank you, dear Lord, for opening our minds and using us for this holy work. When I read any Helong text after our final revisions, it is so clear and smooth and natural. It’s wonderful! We give thanks to God for giving us the wisdom and ability to translate into our language.”Location: Timor, Indonesia;  Number of Speakers: 20,000

‘In February this year the New Testament in Mauritian Creole was published – and sold out within a month! Scriptures are being published in the Mauritian newspaper and read out over the radio. Recently, portions of Scripture were read in prison and had a huge impact on many of the prisoners. One man commented, ‘When I heard God’s word in my own language it felt like Jesus was physically here among us. I felt He was very close to me. Like a close friend’.

I think the preface to the KJV Bible could equally have been the preface to the Mauritian Creole New Testament. ‘Translation it is that opens windows, to let in the light’.

Why would they want to do that? Isn’t the English Bible in the Old Testament good enough? Translation consultant, Dr Charles Grimes, asked this question at a recent Old Testament Workshop held in the remote Pitjantjatjara lands of South Australia. The answer he received was “When we read the Bible in Pitjantjatjara, it is really clear, we understand it, and it reaches deep into our hearts. When we read the Bible in English, it is only half-half.”

16-19 September  Mt Tamborine, Queensland

24-27 November Maleny, Queensland

 For more information contact qldro_australia@wycliffe.org

for more information contact: saro_australia@wycliffe.org

I eagerly read from the New Testament whenever I could. I was enthralled by the character of Jesus and the things that he did. Jesus was ‘the man’ and I connected my changed perspective on life to Jesus though I didn’t really understand how or why.

I was seeing things differently. I had prayed that ‘God, if you are real, I am interested’, and now God was showing his interest in me. I couldn’t take the prayer back and nor did I particularly want to, but I was unsure where this journey would go. At the moment it was very private but I was having trouble keeping it to myself.

I had a strong sense that God was the one bringing about these changes. I was not following a set of external rules of what I should or should not do. I felt the changes were coming from within. At this time I did not go to church but I did not feel alone. I was attracted to others who expressed their faith in God. I found stories of God turning up in the lives of people in daily newspapers, weekly magazines, in sportsmen, singers and entertainers. I recognised that there were also others who experienced Jesus Christ in a similar way to me.

to be continued…..

I just received on my screen Belinda’s latest newsletter from Papua. Belinda comes from Melbourne and joined Wycliffe two years ago after studying linguistics. She is in Papua giving a helping hand to a local NGO involved in translation and literacy. Belinda writes about the Edopi children in this photo who have had no opportunity to attend school until this year, when nine local tutors were trained by the NGO she works with.  Literacy classes were started and 165 children are now getting that chance. The response amongst parents, tutors, and children, has been overwhelmingly positive. They are delighted that their children are being given the chance to learn how to read and write. What is also encouraging is that after only two months of classes, half of the children passed the test for the first book and are now ready to move on to the second level of literacy classes.

As a former Primary School teacher I love this story. The human mind loves to learn the world over. Never underestimate it, never sell someone short, including those in the remote locations of Papua.

I became ‘a man of religion’ through no fault of my own. I don’t recall that I was seeking God or that I was opposing God. My parents were not church goers, nor were they antagonistic to hose who felt the need to attend. Whatever happened inside a church I was not privy to throughout my childhood and I did not feel that I was missing out on anything of consequence. Life was good. It was uncomplicated, filled with the routine of school, sport and milking cows.

It was during the Easter break in my final year at High School that my friend took his opportunity. He asked me to come away camping with him over Easter at a place called Belgrave Heights near Melbourne. I accepted. I didn’t know that it was a meeting of Christians. It was an Australian version of the Keswick Convention that had started in the 1880′s in the Lakes District in England. I was told that there were plenty of nice teenage girls there, which was a true statement, but I was not told that it was a ‘Christian’ thing. At least I didn’t hear it if I was told.

I made my way into the large wooden auditorium with a sawdust floor and an iron clad roof. It used the natural slope of a hill and formed an amphitheatre that held around 2000 people. It was nearing capacity with people spilling out onto the lawn. My home town had a population of less than 500 so for me this was a huge crowd. All those in the auditorium rose as one to sing the hymn ‘To God be the glory, great things he hath done’. It was awe inspiring. In my primary school days my scattered attention had been caught fleetingly by a clergyman singing songs but now my full attention was caught by over 2000 ordinary people singing songs of worship to their God.