High-amped linguistic buffet in Mayan church

SOLOLÁ — I wonder what Mayan children think about God.

A child who attends a Mayan church around here is likely to wonder whether God speaks her language. She will likely hear sermons given in a mix of Spanish and Kaqchikel Mayan — about 75 percent to 85 percent in her mother tongue. When she hears the preacher pray or read from God’s Word, however, she’s likely to hear Spanish prayers and Spanish Scriptures.

That’s how it was again yesterday as I visited another Mayan church. The Kaqchikel preacher offered the typical linguistic buffet, praying in Spanish and reading only from the Reina-Valera Spanish Bible, instead of the Western Kaqchikel New Testament translation, which was printed in 1996. When he spoke extemporaneously, teaching and explaining, the preacher primarily used Kaqchikel, mixing in a few Spanish words.

When a preacher takes on this role of “interpreter,” acting as an intermediary between the people and God, a Mayan child might be led to believe God speaks Spanish and doesn’t understand Mayan languages. Perhaps Mayans don’t know the Reina-Valera Bible is also a translation from the original biblical languages.

I was happy to attend the service. It was good to be reminded that I’m not living in a Spanish-speaking world. My friend, Jose, who is Kaqchikel, invited me to attend the church. His sister goes there, and it’s a Mayan crowd, 100 percent.

I had already attended a three-hour morning service at Jose’s church in the middle of town, attended mostly by Spanish-speaking Ladinos. My hind quarters were ready for a break, but the afternoon service — seated on an unbending, flat metal chair — lasted at least three hours as well.

The music time proved to be among the loudest I’ve ever experienced. The church sported six upright Peavey speakers standing proudly on either side of the stage. At one point, I glanced down to see whether the thundering bass was causing my clothes to vibrate. Nope. The pulsing music beat against my chest, but it didn’t appear to be moving my clothes.

Fortunately, I had remembered my earplugs, made of neon green foam. Jose and other Guatemalans usually laugh at my earplugs, but midway through the music time he motioned that he wanted to try my spare set. “These really help!” he shouted after he stuffed them in his ears. Later, he said the music had been giving him a headache. Imagine that! These poor Mayan evangelicals are all going to be deaf soon.

A man led the singing for a while, but pretty soon a short Mayan woman climbed the stage and took the microphone, continuing in a repetitive singing style (again, all in Spanish) for probably 30 to 45 minutes. As she continued, the men began to kneel one by one and pray by their chairs. I suspect they were tired. Later, the women (who sat on the opposite side of the center aisle) also began kneeling by their chairs.

This being a Pentecostal church, a group of four or five women danced in front of the church by the stage. Their hopping dance appeared to indicate they were being led by by the Spirit as their arms dangled loosely at their sides and their heads bobbed up and down. They had been gathered there by an usher. Whenever he noticed a woman taken by the dancing spirit, he herded her up front.

After the female song leader finished singing, she disappeared behind the pulpit, presumably kneeling in prayer. She continued praying for five or 10 more minutes. I noticed her speech seemed to have changed and so I asked Jose. He confirmed that she was not speaking Kaqchikel any longer but had begun to “speak in tongues.” Perhaps she has not read I Corinthians 14:27-28, which calls for an interpretation of tongues spoken in public services, or 14:14-19, where Paul teaches that he would rather speak five understandable words “that I may teach others also, than ten thousand words in a tongue.”

Later, during the sermon I saw something we might want to try at my home church in Oregon: Two ushers, a woman and a man, paced up and back beside their respective group, poking people who appeared to be dozing off. Fortunately, Jose warned me about this practice before the usher reached me.