cjones's blog

So why three parts? Because I had more thoughts than I had time at a time to write. And because what I wanted to say falls roughly into three points: background, what's going on now, and the obligatory abstract reflections.

Incidentally, this is Christopher writing.

I'm pretty sure we've said this stuff before. Anyway, it won't be news to anyone who follows us that biculturalism guides our thinking re Ellis, a commitment to which the name of this blog attests. But in church, the stakes are raised. We put it to our pastor this way: we want Ellis to know that the gospel is for him, regardless of his culture and language. And we want him to be able to engage the gospel in his own, native language and culture.

So there's that. And then there's the fact that being in a church means being with people. And that means more than just communication, thought it certainly does mean at least that much. What it really means is that Ellis knows he is loved by these people. Realistically, we don't expect anyone to get as good at ASL as we are (not that we're all that good). But Ellis ALREADY sees people's efforts and is responding to them.

The other day we couldn't go to prayer meeting, but Ellis wanted to go. So we sent him with someone else who was coming by. That's right, we sent E to prayer meeting by himself. And he spent the time before and after, while people were chatting, to teach people the signs he was using, starting with the alphabet.

He tells us that he wants to go to church. He talks about it during the week. And this is after only a few weeks attending. So maybe what we're feeling is vindication. We've always said that a little goes a long way, that we don't expect people to master the language but just to try, and that would be enough. And as it turns out, it's more than enough.

We know that eventually Ellis will have to learn how to function in a Hearing world that doesn't understand or won't accomodate itself to him the way we do. We know that eventually he'll be in a church where people don't make this kind of effort. But he'll be an adult by then, and settled in himself and in his relationship to the Gospel. But for now, we think this is the way we, and the Church, fulfill our vow to raise Ellis in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.

I'll be writing more on this from time to time. But in the mean time, thanks to everyone who commented on parts one and two of this. Your comments mean a lot to us. And we especially appreciate Deaf people sharing their own experiences growing up. They instruct and encourage us.

In a previous post I talked about our difficulties finding an interpreter for church, and I mentioned some of the reasons why we think it's important to have one. Let me just say: thank God for the men in our church. Here's why.

We recently changed churches. When we moved from the 'burbs to the city we were much closer to another church in the same denomination. So it seemed to make sense to make a move. We were worried about what would happen with all the work we'd done with our session, but decided to at least visit the closer church to say 'hi, we're in the neighborhood.'

Well, let me just tell you. They were all over Ellis. We soon discovered that two members of the congregation have ASL in their background. One of them helps lead the singing, and within a few Sundays of our visiting started translating the songs as she was leading the singing. The other teaches Ellis's sunday school class, and she too immediately began using ASL wherever she could.

Completely on his own, the pastor started using what few signs he could pick up during the week in his sermon. I think he must have picked up the sign for "life" when they came for dinner one night. The next Sunday he was using the sign whenever he said the word. And he's added to his vocabulary since then.

He's also started asking the whole congregation to sign "Amen" at the end of every prayer, and he's asked us whether we would teach everyone how to sign the Lord's Prayer so we can do that together, too.

And I've noticed that as I'm translating hymns and such for Ellis in the pew, people behind me are trying to follow along. And some people are even turning around to be able to see and follow.

And the session at our old Church? They contacted the new church and offered to help out with the transition. They even had several joint meetings with our family and reps from each church's session.

So, yea. Like I said. Thank God for the men in our church.

Amid all the searching and learning we've done since we discovered Ellis was deaf, the biggest issue for us, the elephant in the room, always was what to do about church.

Anyone who knows us well knows that we take church very seriously. J and my own experiences growing up in the church were typical of what we call "covenant children". We believe that our children are Christians, and ought to be treated as such, until they prove otherwise. That means that children are taught at a very young age to participate in every aspect of public and private worship.

But what about Ellis? We are used to seeing young children sitting in the pews with their families at church. We know they don't understand a lot of what is going on, but we expect they will absorb what they can, and as they grow older they'll continue to grow in their understanding. But Ellis doesn't absorb a Hearing worship service the same was as Hearing children do. Most obviously, he doesn't hear the words we're singing and reciting. And he doesn't hear the sermon.

The most obvious solution is to find an interpreter to translate the content of the service. If Ellis can't understand everything that's fine. Neither can hearing children. And that's not the point, anyway.

Fortunately, our session was very receptive to the idea of hiring an interpreter. But they had to work through a lot of issues, first. Like whether or not the interpreter themselves needed to be a Christian, and if so then what kind? (The issue of who leads worship is a huge discussion in Evangelical Christian circles). And then there were practical issues, like where the interpreter would stand so that they would be accessible to everyone, but not distracting to anyone.

And then there was the actual search. We asked everyone we knew whether they knew any interpreters, or any good sources for interpreters. We contacted agencies, we scoured the web, and we followed endless friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend rabbit trails. Still, we just couldn't find anyone who fit the session's criteria. The problem was that any interpreter that was themselves a Christian wanted to be in their own church on Sunday! Duh.

So we kind of gave up, to tell the truth. We found a wonderful woman who was able to meet with us once a week to help us work out the difficult stuff-- like the Nicene Creed, so we could interpret those ourselves, in the pew. She also worked through the Children's Catechism, the Lord's Prayer, and the Apostle's Creed with us. Awesome. It gave us a measure of confidence we lacked before. But still. That's not enough.

The issues are much broader than mere communication. The issues here are cultural, too. But I'm going to save that for the next part of this post, soon to follow.

It's amazing. Simply amazing. We've been agonizing over how to find an interpreter for our church services. Having made no progress, we turned the project over to Mom, and within a few weeks she has made more progress than we've made in many months.

The background: we finally convinced the session at our church to hire an interpreter. I say "finally," not to say that there was any resistance. Quite the opposite, they were eager to help us in any way we need. But, like good Presbyterians, they have to be thorough. We did a lot of work putting together documents explaining our particular choices with respect to Ellis's education as a deaf child, and particularly why ASL is so integral to his education even with the CI.

Once we'd explained everything, and worked out all the parameters, they gave us the go-ahead. But there was no interpreter to be found. It's difficult because religious ASL is possibly the most difficult ASL, meaning you can't get just anybody who happens to know a little sign. You need a specialist, and you need one that's available. Most interpreters, as it turns out, are committed. Add the fact that our services are, at least by reputation, more heady than most. And add that the ideal candidate would at least be Reformed, whereas most religious interpreters are coming from the Catholic persuasion.

Any way, my Muti called last night to say that she's found someone right around the corner, who is eager to help us. She's so eager that she won't take 'no' for an answer. I can't believe that after all this time, and all this work, the answer was so close. But that's often how it turns out, huh?

I only wish we had been able to move more quickly. Since we started the search, ellis is ten times as ready for an interpreter as he was then. We've definitely reached the limit of what we can do for him in services, and he clearly is stagnating. And we still haven't addressed the issue of religious education in the home. Apart from the challenges every family faces in that regard, we just don't feel that our ASL is adequate to something even so simple as the Children's Catechism.

But now there's a solution in sight. Thank heaven!