03/16/2026
The Power of “We”: A Translator’s Witness
by Erica Brown Rosado, Spain
During the International Resource Summit in the Philippines, we were a gathering of people from 23 countries — carrying different languages, cultures, and life experiences — yet all trying to participate in the same work: to create resources that would bless our global church with hope.
I found myself in a very interesting position since I was helping with translation. I was able to listen deeply to transforming testimonies. To witness deep and profound conversations taking place. This opportunity gave me a special lens. I became a bridge between people who shared the same mission but could not share the same words. So I stood in the middle, and what a great place to be in. I was able to help carry someone’s story across a barrier that would have kept it silent. I was helping hope become shareable.
What stayed with me was not the logistics of the conversations, but the way people leaned toward one another — across barriers of language, expression, and culture — in order to listen. What struck me was how eager everyone was to understand each other, even when understanding wasn’t simple. People asked questions with genuine curiosity. They shared with courage. They waited patiently while others found their words. And somewhere in the middle of all that careful listening, something holy happened.
I realized that even when we did not speak the same language, we recognized the same Spirit. Even when our stories came from different contexts, they pointed toward the same longing: a desire to serve, to heal, to build, to participate in Christ’s mission of hope.
Throughout the week, I kept being moved by how naturally people offered themselves to one another — their stories, their wisdom, their creativity, their presence. It didn’t matter who came from where. It didn’t matter who spoke what language. What mattered was that everyone came with hearts open, ready to create something that would serve others they may never meet.
That is what gave me hope. Not the polished resources at the end. But the process: the generosity, the listening, the collaboration, the refusal to let differences be barriers.
As I translated, I listened with all of myself — compassionately, respectfully, and without judgment. Sometimes, the stories I translated challenged my own assumptions. Sometimes they stretched my heart. All of them broadened my understanding of what God is doing around the world.
I came to the realization: We do not need to speak the same language to be moved by the same Spirit. Even in our differences — maybe because of them — we were united in Christ’s mission, in the longing for Zion, in the hope that the world can be healed.
As people shared their stories — stories shaped by their own cultural contexts, struggles, ministries, and hopes — I felt the same Spirit that moved at Pentecost moving among us. A Spirit that says: “You belong to each other. You are part of the same body. You carry the same fire.” A community of people who, despite all differences, understood one another because God was speaking through us and among us.
And I realized something: Understanding is not only about language — it is about posture. A posture of humility. A posture of curiosity. A posture of service.
As the week went on, I saw people collaborate with gentleness, creativity, and a shared commitment to Christ’s mission. I saw people offer their cultures as gifts, not as barriers.
This experience opened my eyes to the beauty of the global church. A church where the Spirit still speaks in many tongues. A church where diversity is not something to overcome but something to celebrate. A church where “we” matters more than “me.”
Christ’s mission is not something any of us carries alone. It is a shared work, a shared hope, shaped by many voices and many cultures held together by one Spirit.
I left the summit believing more fully that Zion is possible — because I saw it. I heard it. I felt it.
That week, I saw people from 23 countries bring their unique gifts, cultures, languages, and stories... and yet every contribution pointed toward the same goodness. The same hunger to build something that our global church could celebrate and use to bless the world.
Standing between two languages gave me a lens I didn’t know I needed. It showed me the beauty of “we” over “me”. One same spirit. That is what Community of Christ is. I am, because you are. I am, because we are. Ubuntu.
