Abiasaph, a figure from the Levitical lineage — a “father of gathering,” his very name hinting at communal bonds – would likely have understood the deep value many in Asia place on collective worship. Consider, for instance, the extended family gatherings for worship in rural Sabah, where generations unite in prayer and song in their own Murut dialect, reinforcing deep social ties alongside their faith. Or witness the powerful display of shared devotion when mountain tribes in Mindanao come together for church services where the entire congregation raises their voices in Obo Manobo hymns. For them, faith isn’t a solitary pursuit; it’s woven into the very fabric of community, expressed through shared song and story, and punctuated by the raw honesty of communal lament.

Yet, for countless believers, the heart of their faith – God’s Word – remains a distant echo, locked away in unfamiliar tongues. Imagine the psalms of Abiasaph’s, those poignant verses of longing (“How lovely is your dwelling place…” Ps. 84.1), of communal devotion (“A single day in your courts is better…” Ps. 84:10), and even of anguished lament (“Wake up, O Lord! Why do you sleep?” Ps. 44:23). These verses, resonating so deeply in the Asian hearts, yet remain inaccessible in their heart languages.

To deny these communities the Scriptures in their own voice is to mute their spiritual expression, to hinder their communal embrace of our Saviour, and to leave their deepest sorrows unarticulated within a biblical framework. True faith thrives in the language of the heart. Providing that language is not merely translation; it is liberation.

Help us pave the way for a future where every community can sing their faith in their own voice – let us create a symphony of praise that resonates throughout Asia’s gatherings with the gift of a verse today.