Monday, December 19, 2011

Sundays in Hawaii

Church in Hawaii is so much better than church in Utah. Maybe that's because eating nails is better than church in Utah. Or maybe it's because church in Hawaii is really quite remarkable.
Sundays in Hawaii start with a trip to the Hawaiian style cafe, where very little money buys mountains of food. Well, of thick pancakes, bacon and spam. The cafe opens around eight and closes when they run out of food. This is island living. And its a lovely go with the flow attitude. It also gives me an icky feeling in my stomach because there's no control. I like to have control.
So after Hawaiian style cafe comes church. Church where men wear jeans and white shirts and sometimes ties if they're feeling really formal. Church where the women wear traditional muumuus and pull back their thick long hair in in intricate knots. Church where most of the congregation has tattoos that peek out from under their collars.
The organ plays. This would not be remarkable, except that the boy playing the organ does not have a hymn book in front of him. He appears to play from memory. The prelude ends and he feels his way to his seat. He's blind. All of a sudden, the organ music is incredibly remarkable. Music played by a blind teenage boy who decided teach himself to play the organ, because he wanted to contribute to the church he loved so dearly. What music could be more holy?
So church goes on and in many ways it is like church back home, but each speaker starts his talk "brothers and sisters, alooooooHA" and the congregations calls back "alooooooHa" and the blind boy accompanies five songs and each time it is so stunning it could bring tears.

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