My wife and I went to California for vacation several years ago. We had two children, both under 4 years old. My wife wanted to attend an LDS ward, so we just decided to drive around until we ran into a Mormon chapel. We figured church would start at 11 AM, found a church around 10:40 AM, and sat in the back. The ward was very friendly, and several people approached us asking who we were. We discovered that it was a Spanish ward, and asked if we spoke Spanish. We don’t. Missionaries and several ward members asked if we wanted a translator, but we declined. We figured we would just stay long enough to take the sacrament and then leave. The funny thing is I don’t think my children even noticed that the meeting was in Spanish! Have you ever attended church when you couldn’t understand the language? (I’m sure this is the case with many missionaries, but I’m talking non-mission experiences here, although all experiences are welcome, especially if they are unusual.) What was your experience?
Culture, Mission, Mormon, Mormon Culture
Church in Another Language
My experience is that even when I have attended in another language (German, French, Tagalog, Chinese and Spanish) the exported outline of Sacrament meeting is identical so there is always enough context to understand what’s going on in the meeting. I would be lost if the meetings catered more to the cultures and not just the languages but I think that is when the spirit could truly help me. Something, in my opinion, is lost when we just impose American hymns with translations into another language or just impose our American agenda with a translation. Feels a bit imperialistic.
I’ve attended a Japanese language ward in Tokyo over several months back when I was a graduate student, and got to spend a potion of my research time each year at Tokodai. I opted for that Japanese language ward over the English-language wards because my now husband was a member of that ward, and Sunday was pretty much the only substantial amount of time we got to spend together. I had to take 3 trains across Tokyo to get there (if I’d wanted just Japanese language there was a chapel in walking distance of Tokodai).
Meetings really didn’t seem that different in format. Green hymnbooks, though fewer hymns, translated into Japanese – some not found in the English language hymnbook though, like Jesus wants me for a sunbeam. The same lesson manuals and curriculum.
The ward had a munch and mingle get together after meetings on a fast Sunday.
What did surprise me was that Easter Sunday went utterly unrecognised in any shape or form. I found that disturbing. I hadn’t realised so starkly until then that all our Easter celebrations growing up in the church were essentially borrowed from wider Christianity, and were not an inherent part of Mormon worship. My husband tells me Christmas also doesn’t get much attention. I guess in the west with a Christian heritage, that at least has some influence on hymn choices and sacrament meeting topics, and I don’t suppose it helps that Western and Orthodox Christianity follow different calendars…
My husband recently went back to visit family and attended church there. He commented that having had the same lesson two weeks in a row, once there and now here, there were cultural differences in the way the lesson material was understood, and discussed, but that’s not the kind of thing that would necessarily be picked up on without a good understanding of the language.
We were in Houston and attended the nearest ward. It too was Spanish. A fun experience.
By the way, the top sign is for a Preperterian Korean church.
We attended a ward in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. It was in Khmer, and there were headsets available for those of us who needed them with missionaries in the back translating. It was a well attended fast & testimony meeting, and I was particularly touched by the stories some of the members shared about having joined the church. One member talked at length about drama with her mother who was opposed to the church and stole their money to prevent them going to church. It was fascinating to hear the sacrifices people made. Our driver / guide was local and happened to be LDS. Maybe he was the bishop (I can’t remember if he was), so that’s how we happened to get connected with the local ward. Someone in our Singapore ward had recommended him. He spoke decent English also. Great guy. Given the history of Cambodia, we really found the people to be remarkable.
The weirdest thing was that the couple sitting in front of us knew my parents years earlier when they lived in Tennessee. We have often had these “Mormonism is a small world” moments when attending different wards around the world or country.
Since you mentioned Cambodia….. About a year ago, a ward member gave one of the best priesthood lessons I have heard in a long time. His family were refugees from Cambodia and discussed trying to get away from the war zone in the 1970s, walking through minefields and making his way to the USA. His joined the LDS Church in Washington, mainly because the LDS Church members were nice to them. He indicated he didn’t have much of a testimony of the church, but went to Ricks College (now BYU-Idaho). He had no desire to serve a mission until he had a spiritual experience there and decided to serve. Upon his return, he met his wife. I’m not giving his story due credit–it really was a moving story to hear the difficult circumstances of a young boy in a war zone, making his way to America. I’ve tried to help him do some family history, but of course it’s hard to find much info about Cambodia. I encouraged him to look for Indexing activities of Cambodian records, but there aren’t very many. He has done some DNA testing, and may have found some distant cousins, but he literally doesn’t know his grandparents. Some of these immigrants have amazing and heroic stories. You don’t often hear those in Utah where 6th generation Mormons are common. It’s nice to hear of some modern pioneers who have just as amazing stories as the handcart disasters.