On service, interpreting, and chocolate

"Be dressed for service, and keep your lamps burning." - Luke 12:35. It's funny, because when I read this, I immediately thought Jesus meant to dress in your best. Lately there has been some emphasis in our church about wearing our best clothes to church (with some ambiguity as to what exactly that means... apparently, my most prized pair of jeans doesn't count), especially if you are going to serve in any ministry. I was wondering at the time whether I needed to wear a suit for translation... the pastors and the other translators wore suits, but they are all men. So I read on, hoping Jesus would tell me whether to wear my suit or a normal jacket.

There was some confusion before I realised Jesus meant to dress like a servant. It does not solve my immediate problem of to-suit-or-not-to-suit, but it did remind me that, in reality, it is trivial. I needed to put aside my proud notions of looking good or seeming intelligent before everyone, and instead take on the heart of a servant. The attitude of servitude, so to speak. Pride is such an easy trap to fall into. (By the way, I didn't wear the suit, but I wore a denim blazer that looked like a suit anyway.)

Today was the big day, where I stood up at the podium with the pastor, and interpreted his words into English. The sermon lasted about an hour, but for me it seemed like at least 2 hours. If I were to evaluate my performance, I would have to say I sucked. I didn't know what St Augustine was in Chinese (I guessed, but by the time I realised it was too late), and interpreted some parts in a really strange way. My Chinese simply isn't good enough, I think. On the other hand, after the service nearly everyone in the church approached me to tell me I did well. Being a self-critical type of person, I take these praises with a grain of salt, but I also refuse to let me put me down. The experience had my sympathetic nervous system firing on all cylinders, and I had the tremors toward the end of the service. I've now come down from my high, and am confronted with a massive headache and an unquenchable thirst. Kids, don't try this at home.

Now that I've had some time to think about it, it really is a blessed thing to be interpreting at church. If God's message is spoken through the pastor, then the interpreter also is an outlet of God's word, a channel through which God's word flows. It is the next best thing to being the pastor himself - the privilege of being an outlet for the word of God, without the toil of seminary training.

As for the chocolate... it is the other thing I'm craving, aside from water and sleep. I don't think there is any proper chocolate in the house, and I can't be bothered going out to get some. I'm sure that if I look hard enough, I will find a chocolate biscuit. It's out there, somewhere, I know it.

A conversation with my brother

"Hey, are you going to have babies when you're older?" he asks

"I don't know. I guess if I get married I might." I reply

"Oh, right. Hey! I've never thought about this, but how do married people make babies?" He asks, "You can get married, but where does the baby come from?"

I stared at him, and couldn't hold back my laughter. He is 10 years old, and obviously his innocent mind is still untainted by modern media. How does one answer this question?

"E-bay." I said.

Barry Marshall to visit UQ

I received an e-mail today that would have given me a heart attack, were I not so meticulous about my diet and exercise (ha!). Barry Marshall is coming to visit UQ later this month to give a public lecture. Barry Marshall is coming to my campus.

For those who don't know, Barry Marshall is a Nobel Prize laureate for his contributions to medicine - specifically, for his role in the discovery of the Helicobacter pylori bacteria, which lead to the effective treatment of peptic ulcer disease - a painful and potentially dangerous disease which has plagued mankind ever since Man were given stomachs.

Last year, in March, I wrote a blog article entitled "If I Ever Meet Dr Barry Marshall" ... about his discovery and how crazy he must have been. I think I also wrote something about what I'd do if I ever meet him. I think I said something about giggling. <cringe>... This particular article caught the eye of Professor Marshall himself, and he got his staff to contact me to send me some memorabilia. This is all very good, but now he is coming to UQ!

I wonder if he remembers my blog. Probably not, but then, what if he does? If I were in his position, it would give me unspeakable joy to see what this girl would really do. It feeds my strange sarcastic sense of humour. I can only hope that he is not like me and has forgotten all about it, although, how much normality can you expect from a man who drank bacteria in a self-experiment? I better stop right here before I get myself into more trouble. The self-experiment did save lives, and it wasn't that crazy a decision given the gravity of the situation.

I think I will go and listen to this public lecture, but I'm don't think I will approach him afterwards, and if anything happens, I'm going to deny everything. The thought does occur that having contacts or knowing people (or pretending to know people) like Professor Marshall may be beneficial in some way. I could do what Sharon Stone did, and say things like "... my good friend Professor Marshall..." (Sharon Stone did it to the Dalai Lama) ... but it seems kind of like cheating, and besides, people would ask me how I know him, and that must be avoided at all costs.

Let this be a lesson to us all. It is embarrassing to write about Nobel Prize laureates and other famous people who are still alive. Save it for people like Einstein, Marie Curie, Mendel, Plato, and the like. Jesus is alive, but at least Jesus isn't going to come and deliver a public lecture at your campus.

Or will he? *shift eyes suspiciously*