Button

Nicknames.  I used to remember wanting a nickname when I was a kid.  It seemed like a way other people said that you were so great, you earned a name that described you as a person better than the mere label your parents selected from some baby book.  Speaking of baby names, why is that book parents refer to  not just called human names?  You don't stay a baby very long, and yet, the names are only for babies.

When we named our first daughter Alyssa it was not very popular, therefore nobody could pronounce it.  That was alright with us because it was how we could easily identify our friends.  Kind of like the guy that calls your house looking for someone with a name that is almost pronounced like what he said, but just off enough to identify him as a salesperson.  Sorry about that. None of this really goes with the story you are about to read.

Nicknames.  I used to remember wanting a nickname when I was a kid. Actually, I do remember it. If I used to remember it, then that means I forgot it.

Nicknames.  I always thought they were better when given by a friend than if you try to give yourself a nickname. Unless you don't like it.

A missions trip to Uganda.  My name translates to Dawidi (da-weedy) in Lugandan. Lugandan is the name of the language spoken in the Kingdom of Buganda in Uganda, Africa.  Thats right. The country of Uganda had to name a Kingdom.  Lets see...how about Buganda? What about this language we speak?  Lugandan. Perfect!  So Dawidi also means David the King in the Bible. Cabaca (ka-ba-ka) is the name for King.  So the kind people of Buganda called me Cabaca Dawidi, much to my pleasure and chagrin of the rest of the team.  I was okay with the name.  Not as an egocentric thing, but as a term of endearment these kind people wished to bestow on me.  I will admit it caught on a bit.  Our team began to call me Dawidi, without the King part.  So here we are in Africa and I have earned a nickname. Well, sort of.  Can a translation of your name actually be a nickname?

One day a friend on our team finds an interesting treasure on the ground.  It was a button from my pants.  It fell off and I was casually trying to find it without making a big deal that I lost the button from my pants.  As he picks it up, he offers it to me with the one word in the form of a question as if asking me if this is what I was looking for.  "Button?"  

Imagine yourself nearby, but not in the game.  You did not know I was looking for anything. You did not see our friend pick something off the ground.  Suddenly you are in the game as you hear him approach me and say "Button?"  A bit odd for a nickname from a guy, but how sweet that he calls you "button."  Chagrin and pleasure now have changed places. And that is how I earned my new nickname in Africa.

Jack Fruit Tree

I recently spent time with a friend of mine who traveled with me on a music missions trip to Uganda, Africa.  It was my first trip to this unique country with amazing landscape and people.  This friend of mine is a very smart man. He is the CFO of a very large nationally recognized company.  I have lots of smart friends.  I am not sure if that really has any significance to anything I write, but it is worth noting since most of my stories deal with my friends.  Anyhow, this guy who we will call John loves learning the details of everyday things, as do I.  When traveling with Christians of other countries, it is good will to show an interest in their culture, but we can't always understand the language barrier.  I now know that in many countries they have words that don't translate.  I always found this odd as an American.  I thought as most arrogant English-speaking people, that of course we know all the words that exist and everyone else translates our intelligent language into their own.  Imagine my surprise when I found this not to be true.  I could pause briefly for you to imagine it but I know you will just read on so lets press ahead.  As an example of this barrier, I asked our host who owned the large home on the hill that we were looking at. He told me it was a minister. Wow, I thought. I had already been to many churches and all the ministers were poor people who many times had to teach or hold another job to make ends meet.  What kind of church was this man a minister of?  Well of course he was a minster of the government.  Ok, so this is where my education helps a bit because at this point I knew he meant minister as in government official, not as a Pastor.  All that is cleared up so we asked, what ministry is he in charge of? Wax he replied.  Ok. Now I had to pause to imagine what this would be like. So far with our time in Uganda electrical power had been rare. Most people use candle light at night so of course a minister of wax is very important. The government must supply candles to people as a courtesy for those who cannot afford candles or solar power.  By the size of his home, the wax business must be pretty good.  So, who manufactures the wax was my next question, met with a puzzled look.  What?  The wax. Where do they make it?  Our host was so kind. He looked at me to say, "he is in charge of roads and highways".  Now I am really confused.  What do candles have to do with roads?  Wax... in their Ugandan accent translates to the department of Works in mine.  Great. Lets move on to an easier question.My friend John takes the opportunity to switch to a more relevant cultural question.  We had been introduced to a wonderful fruit that is very difficult to describe.  It is about the size of a watermelon, but is very sweet inside and looks like a bunch of triangular pieces of translucent green candy connected in rows. You pull the pieces apart to eat them and they are sweet and chewy.  It is called a jackfruit and it grows on trees.  John asked our host, "what do you call the tree that the jackfruit grows on?  We all waited anxiously for the reply, perhaps some great African name. He stares at us like we are not quite as smart as he had thought and said, "the jackfruit tree".  What do you call the tree the orange grows on? What do you call the tree the apple grows on?  Right.  Language barrier.

You're Offended by What?

Recently our church showed a series of video clips by an actor portraying stereotypes of God.  These are actually quite clever. One clip shows God as a butler, taking orders from his people. He is there for our service, and we send our requests to him expecting him to serve us all the time.  Another shows God as an Old Man, since God is quite old. He sits in his rocking chair remembering things he has done in the past, but not really doing anything today. As these skits go on, we are supposed to identify with how we view God.  How do we see God?  We showed this video series to our congregation as preparation for Christmas, the coming of Christ.  I was reminded of the movie with Will Ferrell and Gary Cole; Talladega Nights.  In this movie as they pray over their meal, Ricky Bobby prays to the tiny baby Jesus, while others remember other stages of life where Jesus is older.  I liked that part of the movie.
It never ceases to amaze me when people come to complain about something in our services.  I have fielded countless complaints about our music, the slides we use, the amount of light that comes in the windows, the temperature of the sanctuary, and many more I will probably write about later.  This one particular complaint caught us off guard.  After watching the skits, one of our parishioners was offended by the actor.  Deeply offended (his words).  In one of the skits the actor portrays God as a sheriff, citing violations of his code, and handing out punishment for it.  We know God isn't really like that, it is just a skit.  But that part wasn't offensive to him. Oh. Of course the actor dresses the part of a sheriff, complete with 10 gallon hat, vest, badge, gun, boots; well you get the picture of a cheesy western character.  So what part of the sheriff's words or costume offended our friend?  None of it.  He was offended at the way the actor waved the "firearm" around so carelessly.  Our response?  Ummm....it's a toy cap gun.  Clearly not a real weapon.  A firearm should always be handled correctly.  People may watch this video and think it is okay to handle a firearm like that.   This is wrong!  Our response? Yes, of course we can see how that might happen.  Thanks for your input.

Throw a Flag on That!

If you have read any of my blogs you know what a fan I am of proper planning.  I am also a huge fan of planning gone bad, with good intentions, but just for a good laugh.  It happens every day.  Yesterday as I was filling my car with gas I noticed a sign above the pump that says Americans waste 700,000 gallons of gas every year because of under-inflated tires. The sign goes on to say that in response to this crisis Exxon/Mobil has developed a product to put into tires to prolong the life of the tire pressure.  I have many issues with this. First of all, the company that sells the gas is telling us they are trying to get us to use less.  There is the first flag.  Not a good business plan, but someone was smart. They figure what better way to help us than to offer another product we can buy from them that will help to save us from buying less of the product we are already buying.  Follow me so far? Probably not. Right about now you are probably thinking this is way too much ranting and not enough interesting which equals boring. I agree. So really as I saw the sign about wasting gas because tire pressure is too low I immediately looked at my tires.  Then I looked around the pump. It seems years ago gas stations had air lines right there at the pump to keep your tires full.  I wonder who made that decision to take the free air away from the pumps, leaving us with under-inflated tires to buy more gas.  Some stations have moved the air next to the vacuum, and for .75 if you act as fast as a NASCAR pit crew you can fill all your tires before the money runs out. Throw a flag on that.
But speaking of flags, we recently put up a flag pole, complete with an American flag on our church property.  A bunch of well-intended veterans pushed for this, and being a veteran myself, I wound up on the committee to make it happen.  My favorite suggestion during those meetings came from one of our more vocal military retiree parishioners.  While discussing the "ceremony" which was to take place on the sunday following Veteran's day, he wondered who we could get to play taps while they put the flag up.  A real bugle player? One of our band members?  I was staying away from this one until they looked at me, the music director, and asked "can you arrange for someone to play taps?"  I looked at all the 20+ years of service to our country people sitting with me and thought, I am thankful for their service and dedication, but didn't you ever go to a flag raising? "Taps is for funerals and taking the flag down at night" I said.  "Maybe even Memorial Day, but as sure as John McCain won't come to our ceremony," (yes that was another suggestion...to ask him by email to come), "we won't be playing taps to put a flag up."  I didn't ask for a moment of silence, but it was a nice touch. As a mere 8 year veteran of the Navy, I suddenly felt like a 30 year military hero in front of these well-intended retired heroes.
The flag went up on Veteran's Day, so it was there already raised for that Sunday. We said a short blessing from the prayer book after our normal services.  We ate lunch.  Everyone was happy.

That's Even More Alarming!

Of the many things I have done, one I am very proud of is my service in the Navy. I am sure you are familiar with the term "cuss like a sailor".  Well let's just say I have those tools in my belt, but I just choose not to use them on a daily basis. And yet, every now and then when I reach for a pair of pliers I grab the wire cutters.  Such was the case last week as I was trying to sight-sing a part for our Christmas Cantata. That means I had not rehearsed the part but was reading the music and trying to sing based on my reading.  Our Bass singers were having a difficult time hearing their part so I decided to sing their part on a CD so they could study it. With great technology I can fix all my mistakes so I sang the entire piece then went back to fix bad notes. I did this upstairs in the production room at church. A quiet small room with a microphone, headphones, and the music in front of me. Frustration set it as a couple lines were a bit out of my range but I plowed through with several takes of the same sentence.

If a tree falls and nobody is there to hear it....Oh yes it makes the noise.   I figure I am in my own little world recording.  Here is an approximate transcript of a few parts. Sung: "O come, O come Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel".  Mumbled: "oh dammit, ugh, crap...alright this time I will get it..." 

As you can see, I have removed all the tools from my belt that can hurt someone. All that is left are a few common sharp objects, nothing alarming in every day usage, but when a church music director uses them; well, I was a sailor again.  On this particular day, our fire alarm installers were working throughout the building. No big deal, I am in the production room on headphones. On a break I hear our assistant Pastor say to me; "The alarm guys like your version of those songs, especially the cussing." That's right. The speakers were on downstairs very loud, blaring my singing and mumbling for all to hear.

That pastor always signs his emails "with grace and certain hope." In this time of holiday cheer, there is great hope.  I hope God smiles at my stories. I hope His grace for the human race extends to me.  With grace and certain hope!

Herbie Doesn't Like to Make Toys!

One of my favorite Christmas memories is watching Rudolph back in the day when our only choice was to see specials like that on regular television. Now we have DVDs and on-demand programming and I can watch Rudolph any time of the year. I think this is both good and bad. It kind of takes the "special" out of the show, but network stations probably did that years ago when they began to air Rudolph a week after Thanksgiving.
Anyway, lately I have been feeling a lot like Herbie, the guy who is making toys with the elves but really wants to be a dentist. I don't really want to be a dentist, but sometimes I feel like I could wind up on the island of misfit church workers.  Take for instance this blog.  I am sure that many people probably judge me for writing about situations that should be kept in those places we ask God's forgiveness for in private.  I always ask the questions in a Bible study that get glances with expressions my parents would make when I embarrassed them.  For example, in a recent reading of Isaiah, "a voice cries in the wilderness make straight in the desert a highway for the Lord".  So how did that guy Isaiah know what a highway is?  I mean, I know he was a prophet, but really?  Ok, so before I get more of those looks from the people reading this, you have to understand I know it is a translation. I get that.  My question is not actually how did he know about highways.  I am really asking the person who decided to create this translation; A Highway? Years of education in linguistics and that is the best you could come up with?  When everyone else takes those words at face value, I am distracted by details.  I listened as John the Baptist sent his disciples to Jesus to ask him if He was the one. Jesus replies to them, "go and tell John what you have seen".  And then they go.  Everyone seems okay with this. I couldn't help but think if I were one of those guys I would have said to Jesus, "Ok, we will go back and tell him what we have seen, but are you the One? We came all this way to ask that question and I am pretty sure John will want to know."
I can relate to Herbie. Herbie always looked at toy-making a bit different.  Why not fix the doll's teeth?  It can be a good doll and have good teeth.

Well That's Alarming

During the holidays there are many things that happen at a church.  This is one that has happened over the course of many months, unrelated to the holidays. 
The fire marshall has been hard at work in our church.  Well, hard at work is really a metaphor, or really not a metaphor but what I mean is he doesn't actually work hard. He spends time trying to make his job seem useful. He write reports and has to justify his existence to the county by bringing local businesses up to code.  Churches make good targets for this sort of thing. We never want to offend anyone and of course we want to be in compliance with anything the general public would have to comply with, except taxes of course.
During a recent inspection it finally became obvious that in our 25 years of existing in this location, we did not have a voice evacuation system. Now I have to be honest, I had no idea what this was or that anyone actually had one, but all of a sudden we needed this. Not like when you go to get your oil changed and the guy tells you your car needs new winshield wipers. This is code.  Now of course the exact code details are a bit fuzzy. Kind of an oxymoron to say fuzzy details. Semi-related side bar: I was at a grocery store this week and saw a bag of "giant popcorn shrimp"...enough said there.
So we had a consulting company come to give an estimate. $20,000 to install this voice evacuation system in our sanctuary. Wow. Now we are interested in details. What the heck is this sytem and why do we need it today?
First part. Apparently the strobe lights and loud buzzing alarm are not enough of a warning to get people out of a burning building. Neither is the rushing mass of people exiting the building on instinct. This has to be accompanied by a loud voice instructing people to leave the building. Really? I asked the inspector the obvious question. Are you telling me that when the church is on fire and everyone is leaving because the recently updated sprinkler system is spraying water over the people holding their ears for the recently updated loud fire alarm buzzing and recently added strobe lights directing them to our new and improved GREEN fire EXIT signs, some people will remain seated until a voice asks them to leave? They wouldn't think to follow the other people out or listen to other people telling them to go. "No thanks, I am waiting for the loud official voice to tell me to go." (I hope you noticed all the "recently added" items I listed. That fire marshall has done great work here at the church.)
Well our story doesn't end here. I really thought there must be some common sense in this procedure. We have a great PA system already in place. What if I, or anyone really, yells over a microphone the instruction for people to leave. Certainly since every sunday people complain about the volume of our music, the system must have the decibel levels to get everyone out. Well, that got us a test. In comes the inspector with a decibel meter and piece of paper to write his readings. I got to shout "get out of the building" over our super-loud PA until people's ears were sore. The inspector told me we may or may not be loud enough in the bathrooms, but other rooms seemed alright.  Then came the final question. "Do you have a battery back-up system?" "Yes" I replied. "On the whole PA system?" "Yes again", I said proudly, with the knowledge our system is well protected and safe from the common summer power outages. "How long is the battery back-up good for?" "At least 3 hours", I replied. Well, the code requires 24 hour back-up.  I was speechless...but only for a few seconds. "How long do you think the building will be standing after a fire starts?" I asked. Why would anyone need a 24 hour back-up on a system that starts when the building is on fire? And here come the supposes....suppose there is a hurricane. Yes? And suppose power is knocked out in the area. Yes? Well then you are in the building with no power, no battery back-up, and a fire starts.  "Ok, so why would anyone meet at a building that had no power and just how would that fire start?" was my last question. "Well you are a church, and people come to church. And I can see that you use candles."
We spent the $20,000.