"Smiling, Crying, and Celebrity"

Sabbath, May 13,2006

“There are some things you shouldn’t get too good at,” Bono of U2 croons in the song “Original of the Species,” “like smiling, crying, and celebrity.” If there was any pitfall to an otherwise beautiful day this, would have been it.

Another very early morning for us. The main SDA church in Koror began with the church service at 9:00 A.M. sharp, followed by Sabbath School. Since we WERE the church program, we HAD to be on time. So the morning was hectic. I was still working on the final draft of my sermon. Everyone had to be packed up because we wouldn’t be returning to the Norton House that day. We were spending the rest of the tour at the palatial Palau Pacific Resort, which came as part of our airfare package. A remarkably generous student missionary named Shane had offered to drive all of our bags to the hotel before church so we wouldn’t have to mess with them. Of course that meant we had to get the bags packed. The worship team and special music participants HAD to get to the church before nine so they could rehearse. The music people left first with Harry’s dad (who just moved to Palau and kindly helped drive us about throughout the weekend). The rest of us were NOT on time. We arrived around 9:15 A.M. just as the praise and worship was ending.

For special music, Holly and CK Girl sang Amy Grant’s “Carry You” (our “theme song” for the weekend) while the Rock and Peterson (a former REAL Christian Theater club member from last season who has sense moved back to his native Palau) accompanied them on piano and guitar respectively. In another miracle, they pulled the song off even though they were still hashing out the chords even as it was time to go up and sing. They were good enough that my wife turned to me and asked if they were singing along to the CD.


Me preaching Sabbath morning. Note the translator putting my words into Palauan.

My sermon went well. I didn’t feel it was one of my best and preaching with a translator always takes away your sense of momentum. The topic of the sermon which tied in with the theme of Per Chance to Dream, the play we would perform that evening was about laying down our burdens, about the need to stop trying to “impress” God with our own goodness, about the need to stop rushing around and “be still and know that He is God.”

After church was a nice healthy Sabbath School Bible study. Palau has dispensed with the redundant “Sabbath School program” (which is basically ANOTHER church service) and goes straight to the Bible study (or the “lesson study” for those of you that know the Adventist jargon) so there’s plenty of time for real in depth discussion and study. Man, I wish Saipan would get with the program. If Palau, the most conservative SDA community I’ve ever been in, can change it up, surely we can.

By a little after eleven, church and SS were done and it was on to potluck lunch. Amazing! The food was plentiful (unlike back in Saipan, where those who go through line last aren’t left with much. Our church really is a mess, huh).

By one o clock, o joy of joys, we were on our way out to Palau Pacific Resort (PPR) for some much needed rest. By 2 we were checked into our beautifully appointed rooms. I allowed the team to swim for an hour but everyone had to be in bed by 3 for a mandatory one hour nap. Maria was in charge of making sure that happened because I went right to sleep. Not sure how many slept, but no matter. Everyone had the energy they needed later that evening. I shared a room with Harry. Babs and I debated whether she should come down and stay with us, or stay in her “official” room with Maria. In the end we decided to sleep separately, figuring Harry might find it a bit uncomfortable to share his room with a married couple.

A view of Palau Pacific Resort (PPR) approaching the hotel's private dock from the sea.


PPR Grounds


Front entrance to PPR

By 4:30 we were on our way back to the church to set up for Per Chance to Dream. During the set-up Satan launched his full-scale assault. The lights were being rigged. The stage was being built (big thanks again to youth pastor Isaac James for giving us virtually all the furniture in his house to use as set props, including his own bed). The sound system was being set up. Friday was doing last minute spot rehearsals with the team. Everything seemed to be fine. I went upstairs to work with Isaac on our program booklet which we were downloading from my e-mail and copying on the churches ancient copier. Forty minutes or so later when I came back downstairs the team was on the verge of collapse. Cowgirl was sitting in a corner in full make-up and costume, glowering. (I’d never ever seen Cowgirl frown much less glower). The Gentleman usually unflappable, sat with his head in his hands as if in tears. Everywhere I looked the team was in a state of agitation and irritation. “Mr, we need to pray or something because people are really having attitudes” CK Girl announced to me and I knew she was right.

So we gathered everyone in a tight circle, arms around each other, heads bowed and we fought back. Every one prayed as they felt the desire, and it was so beautiful. The memory of our team, momentarily splintered but now one in prayer by the Spirit, is something I will never forget. Listening to these kids’ honest, heartfelt, unpretentious prayers, hearing their faith, knowing how they all struggled—how they were plagued the less the pure motives, temptation, sin and doubt in their lives—essentially the same as us adults, and yet here they were holding on to Jesus, asking Him to be in them and work through them. I know for those readers who are not believers, this will be hard to relate to—religion so often seems such an evil thing—but it was just so beautiful. To me this is what means to be a Christian—to acknowledge we are human, that sometimes we can’t make it on our own, but that there is Someone who loves us, who can help us in our time of need.

When the prayer circle broke, the mood of despair and agitation was completely gone. Babs arrived with food and drink, and the kids chowed down as the social hall filled. And filled. And filled. And filled. We were at capacity and beyond, standing room only, the largest evening audience we’d ever had in Palau, when the house lights went down and the stage lights lit up. REAL Christian Theater had hit critical mass.

The production itself was not necessarily our technical best. The play abruptly began without the usual musical lead-in (“Love Alone” by Caedmon’s Call, which begins with the lines that totally represent Lizzy the main character, played by Bono Girl: “No one would love me if they knew all the things I hide”). We had problems with the music sequences throughout the play. In our hurry to begin we’d never properly tested the sound system and for some reason the vocals were mixed out of all of the songs except for “Exit” by U2 at the end. But despite our the various glitches, this performance was probably emotionally and spiritually the most powerful we’d ever done. By the time we reached the end, when Lizzy is struggling to free herself from the menacing self-created barriers she can no longer control, the tears of the actors on the outside were real, so immersed were they in their roles. For the final scene, I slipped out, threw on a white robe and let down my hair that had been more or less neatly tied back all weekend and stepped into the role of my Savior. The interaction between Bono Girl and me during that final scene was as authentic as it had ever been. Playing Jesus is hard. . .but I’ve always trusted that God will somehow represent Himself through my clumsy efforts.

After the show something, perhaps less godly unfolded. And perhaps this is the real pitfall in any of the performing arts that are used in a Christian context. It’s so easy for the focus to go from Creator to the created. It wasn’t really bad—the kids were innocently thrilled and didn’t seemed to let it go to their heads for the most part, but I saw how a problem could develop. In essence the kids were mobbed. For one brief shining moment they were Rock Stars. Literally. People were actually asking for their autographs. Adoring fans flocked around the actors, taking picture after picture with them, the camera flashes going off like so much paparazzi. I watched as half a dozen or more girls followed Harry around, then grouped around him for autographs. I wish I’d had my camera handy because the picture was priceless. We let the kids revel in their fifteen minutes of fame for about 45 minutes or so, then met once again to put the glory back where it belonged. Once again, we huddled in a tight circle, arms around each other, the Man kneeling in the middle. Once again, team members prayed as they felt moved, and even more than before we all felt a sense of God’s presence. Again I was touched by the kids’ heartfelt prayers of real gratitude and praise. They KNEW God had worked miracles for them that night, they KNEW that He had been with them, and they told him so. There were tears this time, tears of joy from many of us, as we basked in the unity we felt and in the Presence of our Friend.

After that special moment, we packed up our gear and headed back out to PPR. Our tour of Palau was finished.

On the way home we stopped to get more hamburgers and fries. Ben Ermis—the best burgers in the world. All cooked out of a little roadside trailer—made fresh. And you can only find them in Palau.