Speaking with the gift of . . . hands

     Speaking different languages has always been something that I’ve defined myself by as I’ve grown up.  In my last church congregation I was probably the most fluent French speaker and was asked to translate services for the French-speaking African immigrants and refugees.  I really enjoyed that. 

     In my current congregation we just had some deaf folks move in.  While I’ve known French for years, studied it at the university and spent a year and a half living in France, I’ve only audited 1/3 semester of ASL and then taken a few week long night school course in it.  So, comically, I’m once again the guy translating services.  Imagine a speaker, instead of just speaking, reading every letter of every word of their talk to you over the pulpit.  That’s me as I translate for deaf services.

     On the other hand, I think it’s a valuable Christian lesson for these deaf church members.  More than any lesson they are taught at church, more than any sermon they hear, each Sunday they have practical application of the gospel principles of 1) not laughing in my face at me, 2) patience, and 3) the gift of “tongues” (you should be laughing at least by that last one).

     It doesn’t take much for me to admit that I actually really love doing it, hard as it is.  Here’s a group of people that have been unintentionally marginalized in their own native culture.  For an immigrant, you just have to put in the time studying or hashing it out pointing at stuff until you start picking up some words and a bit of grammar.  But for a deaf person it doesn’t matter how hard you try, they will never get “an ear” for the language.  Even reading is, actually somewhat, based on oral speech.  What different does a letter make to you if it doesn’t represent a sound (or two or three :D )?  So learning through reading is still a bit hard.  So it gives me a greater-than-normal thrill to be able to help deaf people feel included.

     After services, there are usually a couple people who make the nice comment that they think it is “so cool” that I can sign.  I’m grateful for the kindness but I try to refrain from laughing out loud about how atrociously bad my signing ability is.  It makes me proud to be able to speak different languages and it does give me a certain pleasure that people notice it.  But secretly I wish the comments were more about how awful of a signer I am and that they should actually start signing themselves so they could do a better job of it all.  Then at least there would be a bunch of people able to communicate with our deaf friends.