Words are not enough?

Let me introduce you to the Mapuche (mä-pū'chā) people of Chile. Yesterday listening to And Sometimes Y on CBC sparked me up a little. I have this closet, amateurish linguist lurking in the shadows of my mostly empty brain. See if you can follow this:
Remember this tirade by Steven Colbert well it gets worse – sort of. Turns out Microsoft wants to use the Mapuche language in its software platforms (as it does hundreds of other languages). So they make a deal with the Chilean government (who are famous for their upstanding human rights record) to use the language. Turns out roughly 95% of all Mapuche do not even own a computer but…
Now the Mapuche want to take Microsoft to court. Smelling the potential of a healthy settlement, they claim Microsoft did not follow due process in gain the right to use their language for their software. They are ticked that Gates and Co. did not consult with Mapuche leaders before incorporating the language into their stuff. (read more here)
This got me thinking about who really owns the words we use. Owning a language could be a difficult thing to do but it is clear in this case that Microsoft stands to benefit financially from securing the exclusive rights to use this language (especially if they can convince more Mapuche to buy and use computers). And as such they clear have some influence on the way the language is used and how the words in the language are interpreted and understood – even if that is only in the context of their own software. So even though they may not be able to change the meaning of words outright they will still have and influence on the words thus changing the language. That is the privilege of ownership.
So who owns English words? And what scrim illuminates and reveals the meaning of those words? This is where Colbert’s rant really starts to haunt.
Language is constantly shifting. It is influences by so many factors: the function of words, the common cultural understanding, technology, etc. But what happens when language – the words we use are controlled and shifted due to profit margins?
And then the next question that comes to mind is – wait for it – come on – Who owns Christian words?
Let’s take the word “worship” for instance. If by some enormously fabulous twist of fate the Christian establishment were to decide to return the word worship back to its original meaning and intent and not just a primary reference term for music done in the church, what would be the implications on our Christian music industry? I dare say there would be some significant scrambling to re-orientate the way most of these recording companies market their products. So you say you want a revolution why not start with the words?