Shattered Hopes

High expectations are downright dangerous.  Countless disappointing experiences over my 32 years have taught me at least that much. However, disregarding this warning yet another time, I overdosed on optimism. Hung-over on anticipation, I staggered into the Gmz church, armed with my fully-charged digital camera and recording devices. Ideas first planted three months ago on the southern slope of Mt. Kilimanjaro, were then watered through conversations with colleagues. They sprouted in the Gesas translation office, and now, today, they were about to bear their first fruits in this Sunday morning’s service. I couldn’t wait to witness the Gmz translator’s debut of their first Scripture-based worship songs. Entering the service a bit late, I immediately observed a very important fact – the place had already overflowed its seating capacity. Whether or not today’s song debut was common knowledge I didn’t know, but I was certainly confident of one thing: God was at work…no doubt it would be a morning to remember!

After the final introductory song, Habtamu, one of the translation team members got up and called the children outside for their lesson. As I saw the throng of children squeeze through the double door, I thought to myself, “It’s a good week to have Habtamu leading the kids’ time, such a herd needs a strong teacher!” At this same time, my eye caught Work’u approaching the podium. Again I lifted up a silent praise to God. Formerly of the Gesas translation team, Work’u had been hired away to represent all the protestant churches on the official New Testament translation team. He was definitely one of the strongest readers in the church. No doubt, the text would be heard clearly today. And that it was, as Work’u confidently read through the passage three times before handing the floor over to Dewan. I had forgotten who had been chosen for each of these roles the previous week, but as it unfolded before me now, I could only shake my head in amazement at the all-star line-up for this service. Dewan is not only the brightest member of the Gesas translation team, but he is probably the most-knowledgeable and most-gifted communicator in the church’s preaching rotation. “Once again,” I thought, “God is clearly at work behind the scenes here.” 

As I was still basking in amazement at God’s orchestration, Dewan launched into his explanation of the first verse and I was soon reminded that our enemy is not indifferent to what was happening. Surely, he could see it just as well as I could. And surely, he could see the potential threat it would pose to him if God’s Word became implanted deep in people’s minds through Scripture-based songs. Surely, he wouldn’t let this all-star service continue without some “excitement.” And so it began.

We praise God for the many women who have begun coming to church in these past few months. However, probably 80% of Gmz women of childbearing years are accompanied twenty-four-seven by their youngest child. Most weeks, these half a dozen little guys and gals pose no problems as people just learn to ignore the occasional squeal, cry or “puddle” on the church’s cement floor. However, when the church is packed to the brim with adults (as it was today), it is consequently full of infants as well, and their scooting around on the floor magnifies the possibility of disruption. In a large room that reverberates sound like a gymnasium, Dewan didn’t stand a chance at being heard over the roar reverberating out of the back right corner. He tried firm rebukes of the kids (hoping for an indirect rebuke of the mothers), he tried waiting patiently for the excitement to pass, other elders tried intervening to calm the disruptions, but in the end, it simply had come down to patience. Patience on Dewan’s part as it is very hard to teach and hold a train of thought in such a distracting environment. Also patience on the part of the listeners as the children’s play was quite entertaining to watch. The service that began as a beautiful picnic in the park was quickly dampened by this sudden cloudburst of distraction. But what other options were there? If you kick out the disruptive kids, you kick out the mothers who have come to hear God’s word. And what would that communicate about who is most welcome in God’s house? We couldn’t, so we all did our best, especially Dewan. And in the end, God’s word went out.

With the implosion of what I saw as a fail-proof sermon out of Dewan, my confidence and optimism were shaken as the service moved toward the grand finale – the introduction of the new Scripture-based song.  I prayed silently as Habtamu and the horde of children re-entered the sanctuary and two men carried in the big Gmz drum from where it had been warming up in the late morning sun.  Here we go.

 With everyone on their feet encircling the big drum, Dewan again approached the podium and briefly introduced the new song. He then cued Gwiaanz to start the drum beat and returned to his spot in the circle. All eyes turned to Habtamu, the unofficial music leader of the church, who without hesitation started the traditional Gmz dance step (a close cousin to the hokey pokey’s “put your right foot in, put your right foot out”). As the Gmz community followed Habtamu’s lead, I started my recording device and switched on my camera, hoping to capture the entire event from beginning to end.

Now, Gmz do not teach new songs by playing a recording, or flipping through a powerpoint presentation. Instead, they teach them by simple exposure. A few people sing, the others listen and join as they start to pick up the song’s melody and words. I expected this, so I expected a slow and bumpy start, but I didn’t expect what was about to take place, something that can be best described as an all out derailment. With the drum beat pounding in our chests and the uniform step/dance raising our collective anticipation, Habtamu started to belted out the opening line. However, unfortunately, he was singing the wrong song.  Needless to say, he was abruptly cut off, the drum stopped, and a rumble of confused conversation spread around the room.  A half a minute later, with the side conversations still in progress on the perimeter of the room, Habtamu cued the drum and began again - this time the right song. But he didn’t get very far into it before the next major interruption hit. Somehow, the drum player got off the rhythm and there is no possible way to keep a Gmz song afloat in the presence of an off-kilter drumbeat. So as the song fell apart, insults were hurled at the drum player, a different person was chosen to take over and Habtamu did his best to call attention back to the song as he started it now for the third time.

I looked around the room at what I had hoped to be an amazing worship experience where the Gmz church would rally around the new song in their language and their traditional music style. Instead, I saw confusion, distraction, arguments, and frustration everywhere I looked. My high expectations for this morning’s worship were not just knocked down a few notches, they were shattered on the ground before me. The third attempt at the song limped along with only a handful of people singing, and after five minutes or so, I was ready to pull the plug and admit defeat. This was nothing short of a train wreck. Thankfully, however, I am not the leader of the Gmz church. Praise God that Habtamu, Dewan, Work’u, Damis, Gulbak, Wohis, Wene, and others were not ready to throw in the towel quite yet! And thanks to their perseverance, I was blessed to witness the amazing transformation in what happened next…

(to be continued in our church presentations later this summer)