The Old Testament prophets, those often-fiery messengers of God, speak across millennia with a startling contemporary resonance. Take Nahum, a prophet who lived in the 7th century BC and whose book delivers a powerful oracle against the brutal Assyrian empire – specifically its capital city Nineveh. Reading Nahum today, one can’t help but hear echoes of his pronouncements in the struggles of marginalized communities in Nepal, their cries for fairness often muffled by the din of dominant power structures. 

In a land of dramatic glacial rivers and complex social hierarchies, with 90 tongues across valleys and mountains, the need for Scripture in native language transcends mere translation; it’s about spiritual accessibility. For those living on the fringes, justice can feel like a distant whisper, a promise perpetually deferred. As Nahum declared Nineveh’s impending doom (Nahum 1:3), the sense of reckoning resonates with the long-held grievances of Nepal’s marginalized. 

Using Nahum’s voice, God delivered a forceful judgement: “And this is what the Lord says concerning the Assyrians in Nineveh: “You will have no more children to carry on your name.” (Nahum 1:14a, NLT) This very nature of Nahum’s ministry – a direct and unambiguous communication of God’s will to a very specific people in their context – implicitly demands that God’s Word, in its fullness, be made accessible to all peoples in the language they understand best. 

If a message of vindication and hope needed to be clearly and accurately conveyed, how much more vital is it for the full spectrum of God’s love, redemption, and guidance to be felt in every heart?