My translator

Recently my phone stopped working for some reason. I checked the pre-paid status; I had 37 ringgit left, plenty to send hundreds of text messages all over malaysia. But for some reason, whenever I made a phone call, a woman speaking Bahasa Malay would defiantly explain something. All I know is that I listened to that recording ten times and had no idea what it meant. So, I decided to get some help.

There are a few Malay guards who work at E-park, my apartment complex. I knew they spoke Bahasa so I asked one for help. He listened to the message, and quickly starting gesticulating and speaking to me. Of course, he spoke to me with few words of English. I nodded a few times and made similar gestures back to acknowledge my understanding, thanked him ("terima kasih!") and walked off. I still did not know what was wrong with my phone.
When I thought about this experience, I thought about the irony of a Malay-English translator who doesn't know English. One who ought to relate in the most familiar way to bring understanding must emulate--if not actually be--that to which he is communicating. In my case, I needed someone who knew how to speak English. It's interesting, too, how this concept separates Christianity from many other religions. The idea that our translator, Jesus Christ, was not and is not a removed deity but rather a personal God who is accustomed to human life. He indeed was human. A man of sorrows, acquainted with grief (as the hymn goes), this is a very real and necessary thing for the Christian faith. We do not need to wonder about forgiveness or redemption; rather, it has been freely given to us by a God who knows the temptations we face, who understands our heartbreaks, who has not failed in any way, and yet loves us beyond limit. Our translator, Jesus, can intimately know and redeem us, because he was human and yet God.