Language is full of trap-doors, surprise snares, pitfalls.  But I only recently figured out that the Dutch word for this type of misleading mistake -- valkuil -- is, in fact, a trap-door surprise of its own.

You see, previously, I had always heard the word valkuil as valk - uil (falcon - owl).  And I had actually come to like the connotation of a dangerous falcon-owl, catching us in our moments of weakness.  It seemed like a very vibrant word-picture:  some stealthy bird of prey sneaking up behind us on a seemingly pleasant and peaceful evening stroll and digging his talons into our unsuspecting shoulders.

But for whatever reason, it just recently dawned on me that my personal translation of this word has been incorrect.  Embarrassingly off.  The more correct interpretation of the phrase valkuil is actually val - kuil (fall - pit).  Of course, this actually makes a lot more sense, as it's basically a direct translation of the English term "pit-fall."  But, albeit more logical, I somehow find this realization disappointing.

So all that to say this:  Beware the valkuil, whether it's the talons or the drop.

I was talking with my friend Marc this afternoon about formal titles.  It was fascinating to learn of some of the intricacies of the Dutch language.  For instance, the most proper for of address for a mayor in the Netherlands is De hoogedelgestrenge heer.  Thus, if addressing an official letter to Amsterdam's mayor Job Cohen, you'd address it to "De hoogedelgestrenge heer Cohen."  Literally translated, that means "the highly-noble-very-stern Mr. Cohen."  Isn't that awesome?!?!?  The principal of the high school (let's pretend this one is a woman) would be "De weledelgestrenge vrouwe __________" -- "the definitely-noble-yet-stern Ms. ___________."  Seeing that I serve as the leader of a church community (which tends more towards the Protestant end of the spectrum than the Catholic), it may not be too far-fetched to think that I could be addressed as "De weleerwaarde heer/vrouwe Dominee Asp" -- "The Definitely-Honorable Mister-Reverend Asp."  Sounds kind of nice, huh? :-)  You can find a specific title for just about any role in society on the Wikipedia page about "Aanspreekvorm."

Then I found out about the English equivalents.

To my surprise, there were almost two times as many forms of official "honorifics" in the English language!  Most of us probably know that the President of the United States is officially addressed as "Mr. President."  Or that a judge is typically called "The Honorable Judge __________" (addressed as "Your honor" in a court-room setting).  But did you know that there's also a special form of address for the King of Hungary ("His Apostolic Majesty")?  Or that a bishop in the Church of England should be addressed as "The Right Reverend and Right Honourable _________?"  Crazy stuff, isn't it?  In case you're interested, you can also find more information about English honorifics on the Wikipedia page about "Manner of Address."

I love this kind of stuff in theory.  I hate this kind of stuff in practice.  Good thing almost everyone I know is content to simply call me "Eric."  But if you really wanted to try out "De weleerwaarde heer Dominee Asp," well... I'd be willing to give it a try. :-)

You know that pesky H1N1 virus that's been filling up headlines for the last several months?  It now seems that it's not quite the killer that it was once rumored to be (in fact, I can now say that a personal acquaintance of mine has suffered from -- and safely survived -- the virus); however, I think it still serves as a very interesting sociological study.

You see, in the United States of America, the virus has become popularly known as the "Swine Flu" (since it was originally carried by pigs).  Pigs are presumably innocent, morally-neutral characters in American society -- so nobody is really offended by the label "Swine Flu."  But if anyone were to call it "Mexican Flu" (which is the most popular European name for the disease) -- well, that's borderline racism.  "What?!?  Are you saying that all Mexicans are dirty, disease-carrying mongrels or something?  I can't believe that you would stoop to that level of racial stereotyping!"  So no, no... We'd better call it "Swine Flu" (or better yet, "H1N1").  The poor piggies can't help it.  And believe it or not, the American health authorities have waged a very deliberate PR campaign to make sure that the sickness does not enter the American-English vernacular as "Mexican Flu."  Because there are enough tensions already between whites and Latinos in the United States.  No one wants to go around riling things up based on a name for a flu.

But in the Netherlands, it's interesting to note that the same virus has become (as previously noted) known as the "Mexican Flu" ("Mexikaanse Griep") -- since, well, the virus seems to have originated in Mexico.  And Mexicans are presumably innocent, morally-neutral characters in Dutch society -- so nobody is really offended by the label "Mexican Flu."  But if anyone were to call it "Swine Flu" ("Varkensgriep") -- well, that's just plain culturally insensitive.  "What?!?  We can't have this disease linked to pigs!  Can't you imagine the shame and disgust among the Jews and Muslims, who are very careful never to touch anything related to pigs?  I can't believe you would stoop to that level of cultural insensitivity!"  So no, no... We'd better call it "Mexican Flu" (or better yet,"H1N1").  The poor Mexicans can't help it.  And believe it or not, the Dutch health authorities have waged a very deliberate PR campaign to make sure that the sickness does not enter the Dutch vernacular as "Swine Flu."  Because there are enough tensions already between whites and Muslims in the Netherlands.  No one wants to go around riling things up (or hindering effective treatment of the disease) based on a name for a flu.

Isn't that fascinating?  One culture's good is another culture's bad, and vice-versa.  I've seen it many times in the last several years of living in Amsterdam (my second culture) -- but perhaps never so clearly, and so clearly inverted, as with the naming of the dreaded H1N1 virus...

Just one more week until I perform my first wedding ever.  In Dutch.

I feel surprisingly at-ease about the occasion.  My text is already prepared (and Marco and Claudia have been extremely enthusiastic and encouraging about what I've put together).  Public speaking engagements don't freak me out any more.  I've even preached in Dutch before (though you could count all such occurences on one hand -- or even one-half of one hand!).  And more than anything, I'm just really excited to be given such a role of honor for these two people who I really love and appreciate...

But I've been thinking about how strange it is that I've gotten to this point in my career without ever having performed a wedding before.  I've been in full-time ministry for over ten years now -- working primarily among young people (who are notoriously famous for that whole falling-in-love thing) -- and I've even been in a position of primary church leadership for almost eight years.  And yet, next weekend will be my first opportunity to preside over a wedding ceremony.

It just underscores the fact that my roles in ministry are evolving and changing.

Up until recently, I've always had another co-leader who's typically played more of the "mouthpiece" role.  Matt Hilderbran in Bowling Green.  Steve Bush and Todd Watkins, here in Amsterdam.  And even though God has blessed us with an awesome group of up-and-coming men here in Amsterdam, who are playing the role of volunteer-preacher as often as they can fit it in around their other jobs and personal responsibilities -- it seems that I'm currently being put in a position to serve as more of the "default communicator."  At least for now, for this season of life and ministry.

In the past, I would have been genuinely uncomfortable in such a position.  Not that I don't feel like I can or that I'm necessarily bad at it; it's just that I haven't really wanted to be a preacher.  I went into ministry for the one-on-one, having-coffee-and-talking-about-life stuff.  Or for small group ministry opportunities.  I've always thought that the 20 hours it would take me to prepare a message could be much better spent having 10-15 individual appointments with people, interacting one-on-one.  And indeed, this is the way that my ministry has developed over the last ten years.  But in the current situation, with the church I lead being kind of "between preachers" (after Todd and before the next batch of guys is fully developed), my ministry is evolving.  And what's strangest of all is that I don't actually mind all that much.  With these new "ministry assignments," God has given me grace to see and experience the ways that He can and does use me -- even from behind the "pulpit" (though, in our case, there's no actual pulpit or lectern involved!).  I even feel (dare I admit it?) a little excited about the opportunities to preach at occasions like Marco and Claudia's wedding... like the series on the Gospel of Luke that we're about to begin as a church this weekend...

Truth be told, I'm still hoping that it will be just a season of filling this more traditional church leadership role.  But even so, it's good to know that God is with me -- and that He can use me.  I can be tempted to pull out the ol' "Moses excuse" (that's the title reference, by the way, from Exodus 4:10).  But at least for today, I'm trusting God when He says, "I will help you speak well, and I will tell you what to say."  At least for today, I'm forgning ahead with God's staff in my hand and His name on my lips...

Did you know that the Dutch translation for the English term "chicken pox" is (literally) "water pox?"  And that the German translation for this same phrase is "wind pox?"  Strange, huh?  And what's strangest of all is that the actual virus has no actual connection to water, wind, or chickens!  Linguistic stuff like that is fascinating to me...

Whatever you call them, I'm glad that they're finally on their way out of our house!  It was three weeks ago today that Olivia first came down with the chicken pox.  And yet we're only just now coming through the final stages of the sickness's aftermath.  Elliot went back to school this week -- but he's only been able to manage half-days, as his system is still wiped-out from battling the chicken pox virus.  Cor, too, has gone back to taking two naps per day for awhile, and it was only today that he was able to return to his one-nap-for-the-day habit.

Habits and attitudes are finally getting back to normal again, too.  Elliot and Olivia are finally getting back to their daily chores.   Cor is finally smiling, laughing, and dancing again.

It feels good to have all that behind us now.