I would like to share with you a tidbit about myself that qualifies for admittance into that lofty category often referred to as "little known facts." It is not that I am ashamed of or highly motivated to conceal this information. It is just that I have rarely had the occasion to share it, and in the few occasions that I could have brought it to light my admirable modesty restrained me from doing so. The fact is, for a few years I carried the estimable title of Assistant Head Usher at my church in America. Actually, I believe the complete title was Senior Assistant Head Usher in Charge of Maintaining Quality Control and Assuming Head Ushering Duties in the Event of the Absence of the Head Usher (SAHUCMQCAHUDEAHU). This is quite a weighty title and demands a broad set of shoulders to carry it about. One cannot simply stuff that title in one's pocket. It drapes over its bearer like a heavy blanket and is apt to bend the back of the man ambitious enough to take it up. Such a man is oft tempted throw off the blanket and walk freely through the world again, yet the needs of those poor souls searching for a seat in the sanctuary compel him to suffocate under the weight of his position a little longer. In truth, these men do not stumble into this title. No, they are born for it and fate invariably directs them to their end. They have little choice in the matter.
Great blushing accompanies the penning of this revelation, as it has never been my intention to boast of the burdens it has been my lot to carry, no matter how lofty the titles and accolades that are part and parcel of their calling. I share it now so that you can properly understand and appreciate a new turn that life in Taiwan has taken for me. I have recently joined the ushering staff at my church here. It did not take long to the ushers here to recognize a brother in their midst. We are, after all, something of a small, close-knit fraternity and can instantly identify others who are born to be ushers. By spotting the telltale marks and scars of one who has born great ushering responsibilities, the ushers here were astute enough to determine that I am not of the plebeian offering-taking sort, but rather of the ushering noblesse (once again, much blushing). Thus, they hastened to entreat me to take my place among their ranks. Not wanting, or feeling the need, to hoist once again the heavy mantle that I had already set aside, I agreed to join the lower ranks of their ushering hierarchy. At first, they refused to have me stoop so far, and pled with me to accept at least the position of Assistant Head Usher in Charge of Packet Distribution (AHUCPD). However, my humble, yet firm, insistence on taking no greater title than the simple "usher" eventually won the day. I blush once again to mention the many tears that were shed by the ushering community here after witnessing so noble a condescension.
As difficult as ushering may be, it does not come without its perks. In America, I had the pleasure of sitting in the very back by the door. This provided an excellent vantage point from which to watch the congregation and get to know who left the sanctuary frequently. I also sat very near the door that led to the kitchen. It seems that my various duties often forced me to venture over in that direction, where various goods were sometimes stored and in need of inspection. Here in Taiwan, the perks consist of getting to dress up in a white dress shirt with a tie and black slacks. This exciting combination is accompanied by a yellow armband sporting Chinese characters. I have not found the kitchen yet.
My first two Sundays found me greeting all the parishioners at the front door. Not much was required of me at this post. My duties consisted solely of shooting a phrase in Chinese at each comer and giving them a slight bow. In this process, the phrase generally ricochets back at the usher in its bow-less form as the people rush past. This performance begins twenty minutes before the service starts and continues for twenty minutes after the beginning as well. Those who show up later than that, and there are quite a few of these people, do not deserve to be greeted.
The bow here in Taiwan is worth a short digression. There are actually several forms. The first, and most common, is little more than a quick thrusting forth of the head followed followed by and equally quick snap back. It makes it look as if the head is kept on by some sort of rubber band that snaps the head back into place if it moves too far. This is a brief and quite moderate show of humility and thanks. A more advanced form of the bow is a quick nod of the head. The chin bounces off the throat. The humility/thanks level is higher in this second mode. The nod may be accompanied by a slight slumping of the shoulders if an extra does of humility is called for. The next mode involves a descending of the whole upper body. This is not achieved by a stiff bending at the waist, however. It is more of a retreating of the posterior regions which in turn draws the trunk of the body down. A nod may be added but must take place simultaneously. The final mode is a stiff bending of the waist that nearly forms a ninety degree angle. This is rarely seen and conveys the highest degree of humility, thanks, and respect.
I experimented with all the different modes while greeting the church goers. Eventually, I settled on the posterior retreat. I felt that mode gave a decent representation of my humility without making a obscene show of it. This was well received by the members and guests of the church. Soon large lines formed as people waited to come through my door. I am fairly certain that many people came in, exited through another door, and got back in line to be greeted by me once again. I noticed a number of vendors in the area as well, offering various snacks, memorabilia, and authorized pictures of each person's entrance into the church while being greeted by me. I blushed often and deeply.
I am not sure at this moment where all this new ushering road will take me. I am hoping not to become one of those soulless ushering celebrities. It would be much better if I could retreat into the background. Or maybe just retreat into the kitchen.
