The end and the beginning

Sixteen years ago, in 2005, I took my first “sabbatical.”   I spent two months with the Goethe institut, in Berlin and Bad Godesburg, then about 10 days visiting Christmas markets.   My husband dropped me that morning at the bus station in Goslar (he would be flying separately, accompanying a friend to the US to visit her family.).  And I sat there and cried.   I was full of grief that it was over.   (It must be said that I was in a job that I was really unhappy in, and had only held on because of the promise of a workplace sabbatical - 10 weeks unpaid leave, and that I’d start a new job about two months after that day on the platform in Goslar.)

I am not crying today.  While the experience of these sixteen weeks has been truly wonderful, even more magical than my 2005 break, it has led me even deeper into the love of the community that awaits me at home.  I cannot wait to share the experience with them, I cannot express the joy to be returning not just to my churches, in both the local and other settings, but also friends, family, all the loved ones I have not connected with for three and a half months, starting with my cousin Loraine, who is hosting me tonight, and my husband, daughter and granddaughter, who will pick me up tomorrow afternoon in Lewistown. 

The emotion I am feeling most keenly today is gratitude.   This sabbatical was an amazing, wonderful gift, and I am grateful to everyone who made it possible.   Please indulge me a minute while I mention some of them.

I am grateful to, first, foremost and most, my churches, St Peter’s UCC and St. Peter’s Lutheran in Rebersburg, Christ UCC in Madisonburg, and the Allegheny Synod of the ELCA and the Penn Central Conference of the UCC, who supported me in asking for a Sabbatical, in my Lilly Endowment application, and provided support to one another in my absence. 

I am grateful to the Lilly Endowment for Clergy Renewal, which funded this grand adventure, and who were so flexible about changes when we had changes.  

I am grateful to Janet Curtis, who helped me apply for the Lilly Grant, and who supported me every step of the way (even reading this blog!)

I am grateful to the family and friends who cheered me on, especially those who stepped up when a family emergency occurred mid-sabbatical. 

I am thankful to Dietrich and Ute, Birke and Birgit, who run Brot und Rosen, and all the folks living there, now and in the future.   Living in community with you for that time really solidified what this sabbatical was all about.   I love you all, I will get that newsletter article written, I will send a small gift for A’s first birthday, and I will keep in touch and return some day. 

I am thankful to the countries of Europe: Scotland, Italy, Switzerland, Germany, and Greece, for inviting me in in this difficult time, for making me feel welcome, for helping me when I did not speak your language (and for the folks who told me how well I speak German, even though I am not certain that is precisely true.).  My country did not reciprocate, even though Covid was more prevalent there and precautions are far less carefully followed.   I am glad that is changing in the next few weeks.   And Israel, who did not let me in - I’ll be there, when I can do my travel on my terms.   I know it will be a while, but I hope not too many years. 

I am especially grateful for the people.  The delivery guy and the construction workers who made sure I had sufficient food during my isolation in Edinburgh.  My friends in St. Andrews who met with me, and shared a lovely dinner together.  The hostel owner in Oban, who was so helpful when her hostel had to close because of a Covid exposure.  All the amazing people of the Wild Goose Worship Group who had this wonderful, wonderful retreat to kick off the sabbatical over a week in Iona. 

The young woman who helped me when Covid regulations in Germany changed, and no one could find the German PLF form online.   The apartment owner in Italy who let me stay in his little house, so amazingly nice, let me use his phone number so I could order food, and checked in with me via WhatsApp to make sure everything was OK.  

The community of Nuns, of Monks, and of PIlgrims in Assisi, who helped me understand Francis a little better, and who let me pray with them, even though I’m protestant. 

The city of Geneva, for giving me a free transit ticket, which made moving through that city, and taking the ferries so easy!   The churches in Zurich, all open for me and welcoming.

My brother, his wife, and especially his children, who provided me with some much needed downtime, access to some recreation that was not as touristic, and a lot of fun. Eva, your soccer game, and selling snacks was so much fun, Oliver, your smile is still in my heart.   I hope to see you in two years, maybe in Portugal, and to always be a part of your live.  Aunt Julie loves you. 

The community of nuns in Wittenberg, with whom I could pray twice a day, and who welcomed me so warmly into their hearts, and the people of Erfurt,who welcomed me into their Oktoberfest, and helped me discover that Radler made with the fresh raspberry soda!   Yum!   

The people all over Greece, who were willing to talk to me when all my Greek was Kalimera (and Dr. Newheart, because of whom I could actually make out the Greek letters - thank you!). Especially people on Ferries and Islands, and archeological sites.   Matt Barrett and Rick Steves and Lonely Planet, who gave me numerous ideas when my plans for Israel fell through. The families who ran the hostel in Meteora, the hotel on Kos and the Pension in Nafplio, who share their home cooked jams and lemonade and make these lodgings feel like you are a guest in someone’s home.  These were truly the best places I stayed.

The Polish Catholic (I think) Community of Nafplio who made me feel welcome at their masses, even though I’m a protestant, and a preacher at that.  The same with the Orthodox churches that provided me a place to pray.   I have a new understanding of the body of Christ because of you. 

Gratitude for every server and hotel maid, every ticket clerk, every tour guide, every person who translated a museum sign, checked my vaccination certificate.

And last, but most, my family, Mark, Catherine, Audrey, who carried on without me for sixteen weeks, who resisted asking me too many questions about what was going on at home, who managed the CSA and the morning coffee pot (but Mark always does that - what a gift.) 

You are all the best.   You all made this amazing. 

This blog is not over.   As I transition back to regular life, I’ll review and report on this Sabbatical in a variety of ways.   Most notably, I will do some slide shows to share my travels and my adventure.  I expect to do this over the winter, probably starting in mid to late January.   I’ll share over an internet conference as well as in person at my churches, and will put some of the best photos up here and on Facebook Live.    I’ll also continue blogging as I ponder what all this means and go back over my four books of notes from the last 16 weeks.  Stay tuned, and join me!

Paul’s steps in Athens - and a mistake

Paul made mistakes.   I think Athens was one.   He went there because it was the big city, and I’m sure he expected to evangelize lots of folks.   He went out of his way to meet the people where they were.   I visited the Acropolis, which was certainly one place people were in ancient Athens! Then I visited Mars Hill, the Areopagus in Acts, where Paul’s spoke about the “altar to a foreign God.” And next, I thought, I’ll go to the Forum.  But first some lunch.  It was, after all, almost 2 PM, and though I have been eating late, I was hungry. 

The day before I’d picked up a ticket for a local HOHO (Hop on Hop Off) bus, which was good through today, and I’d be darned if I was going to pay for a metro ride or walk when I had a free ticket.   And as I approached the Acropolis stop, there was a bus, just getting ready to leave.  I hopped on through it’s back doors after showing my ticket. 

You can cue the “wrong!” Buzzer here.   There were no seats, so I stood.  And stood.  And stood.   The next stop never came.   Looking out the window, I saw we were entering the highway.  To Piraeus, the port.   The ticket I had was good on three routes, Athens city center, Port of Piraeus and the Beaches east of Athens.     Looking at my map I began to have a sinking feeling.   It looked like the Port of Piraeus busses then went to the beaches.   I was in for a long ride. 

So I went to the beaches!   Which were lovely.  I did not get off the bus, even though I got quite cold (it was raining and this was one of those open top HOHOs, so the wind was coming down from the upper storey.   After Piraeus, I was able to get a seat.  But I did my best to appreciate what I had, rather than wish for what I had originally planned.  The forum will wait until another day.  

When Paul finally went to Corinth after Athens, I wonder what drew him there?  In Corinth, unlike Athens, he achieved his goal (while he did convert people in Athens, we don’t have a letter to the Athenians, do we?). He would spend a year and a half there.  He would write some of the most beautiful words in scripture to that church, and ultimately to us.   We take what we are given.   As the pillow in my office says, Love the people God gave you.  It’s a great first step.  And in three days I’ll be preparing to go home and love those people that God gave me.  

Community, again

I have, as I said yesterday, been feeling a llittle disconnected, so I decided to act on an idea I got when I arrived yesterday.

Upon arrival at my pension, the check in clerk, giving me directions, told me to turn at the Catholic Church.   This is a real landmark, because though there are a zillion churches in Greece, there are very few Catholic ones.   95% of the population is Orthodox, the next most frequent religion is, I think, Islam.  

So I did turn at the church, noting that they have mass every day, 9AM M,T,W, 7 PM Thur, F, S, and 11 AM on Sunday. an I thought, maybe I’ll stop in.   Yes, it will be in Greek, but one advantage of having grown up catholic is that I know the structure of the mass and what is being prayed and can pray along.   AS much as I love the freer expression of liturgy in my own tradition, having the prayers change means that this is harder in those rare cases when you cannot understand the language.   

The community was saying the rosary when I came in and quietly step down.  There were 5 of them, three men, including the priest, and two women, who were the musicians. They did a FULL hour mass, complete with hymns and special music, at 9 AM on a Wednesday morning.  

And they welcome me so warmly.  The priest delayed slightly starting mass to introduce himself to me and find out what my language was, he sprinkled the mass with various little bits of English, including rereading a couple verses, the key verses of his homily, I think, from the scripture.  After communion, he told the musicians to sing in English, but they gave him a strange look and went along an sang “Magnificat, anima mea Dominum,” of course, in Latin.  

During the mass I kept thinking that their Greek sounded very German, about halfway though the homily I realized this was German, just with an accent I did not really know well, maybe Swabian?   I’m not sure.   In any case at the end I had a great, spirited conversation with them in GErman and promised to come back. 

It was a nurturing and wonderful surprise.  It makes Nafplio no longer just a place to fill out the leftover time in my Sabbatical, but a place of spiritual nurturance for me.  And this trip is more and more about the community we make for the love of God. 

No photo.  I did take some photos of the church, and of the underground chapel one of the men showed me afterwards, but I I’d it with my camera, not my phone, so I won’t have it till I get home.

Leaving Crete

I have not been blogging regularly, and the reason is that right now I am feeling disconnected. 

I came to Crete because it is an island mentioned in the New Testament.   Acts 27:7-15.   It is the last place Paul was before Malta.  The weather was turning (much as it is now - we had severe thunderstorms in this semi-tropical place the first two days I was here, to the extent that the ceiling in my room was leaking, fortunately not ON anyone or their stuff, but still leaking).  Paul sets in to Fair Harbor, a place that still exists and which is actually still named the same thing, but which I could not get to.   Or rather I could not get back from, since the KTEL (Greek Bus) page shows busses going there, but I could not find any busses returning, alas.   I could connect with Paul in the turning of the seasons, in the coming of the storm, and in the preparation for a last journey. 

Another reason that I am feeling disconnected is, since coming to Greece I have not been able to worship with a community.  One of the findings of this Sabbatical, maybe the biggest one, is that I need that, and that I benefit greatly from it spiritually.  I hope to find it at home.   Maybe my community would be likewise interested.   Maybe when he retires, my husband would be.  Maybe I can find a community online.  Maybe I can co lead a local group with other pastor(s).   In any case I intend to look into it when I return, maybe starting something up in Lent.  Or earlier, in Advent!  I have, gladly, visited all sorts of churches, but the cultural disconnect (95% of Greeks are Orthodox Christians - which is a very different thing, liturgically - I believe the next largest group are Muslim) and the language barrier have led to me not having a place to worship on Sunday or on weekdays.   Hopefully, next week, I will find something in Athens.  

The last reason I am feeling disconnected, is that I am missing home and family.   It has been a long time now, more than 3 months, and I am ready to return.    I could travel longer with my husband or my daughter, or my granddaughter, but alone is a different thing.  I miss them.   I miss having conversations with my granddaughter that are not manic (she gets very much bouncing off walls when we talk - and I am sure it is the distance and the stress of the call).  I miss holding my husband.   I miss the community of Church at home, and cannot wait to be back with them!  I miss cooking, and putting together a five ingredient dish in the hostel just doesn’t count.   I work just fine alone, but Covid further estranges one: we make sure there are sufficient feet between us in the bedroom, we wear masks everywhere.   

It will ultimately take me some time to sort through my photographs (an obscene number of them!) reread my journals, and process the last three months.  It so far has been wonderful and glorious, but just like for Paul, the season is coming to its end; I can see the signs of the coming change.  

My next location is Nafplio. This has zero biblical significance, but the only Greek location that I have not yet been to and still wish to go is Athens, and I am doing that at the end of this journey.  So Nafplio will just be rest and recreation.    I’ll probably blog once, then give you more as I go to Athens, and again walk in Paul’s steps.

Walking with Paul the tent maker

When I realized that I was not going to o be able to get to Israel this trip (ironically they may open to independent travelers in November) I spent more time with Paul, listening to Acts and all the letters (since Titus supposedly came from Crete, I wanted to read the dieters-Pauline letters as well as the genuine Pauline letters.   

Yesterday, looking fora way to fill the long day in Piraeus, after the long day sitting at the ferry station in Patmos, I chanced upon a solo tour, via taxi, of Corinth.   I jumped on it, even though it was kind of expensive.   I am so glad I did.

The driver, Andreas, psi a lot of attention to me..   He gave me water and postcards and a little book about Greece, but most importantly, he ha information.  He had a couple of lectures queued up on his iPad, including one tracing the biblical connections between Acts1 and 18, and Paul’s letters to the Corinthians, that I could watch during the long trip, and even found a lecture on the archaeology of Crete and the palace of Knossos for me to watch on the way back.  He got me to all the places I wanted to go,gave me enough time at them, then brought me back to the ship, helped me get my ticket (help I probably didn’t actually need) and get to the right ferry dock (help that actually saved me a whole lot of bother.) 

His kindness and care were remarkable.   I was deeply grateful for it.

The most exciting thing about Corinth is it’s connection to Paul is very specific, coming in both Acts 18 and the letters to the Corinthians.    Down to specific, verified site.   The Bema in the middle of the site, pictured above, was where in Acts 18, Paul was brought before the Roman governor.  This WAS the Bema in those days, the function of the spot was exactly what is described in scripture.  There is no tradition or guesses or supposition.   Paul stood here, the Roman Governor sat there, this is where things happened.   

Also fascinating and moving was the areas of the Agora, where shops would have been set up, and where a tent maker, and his buddies, would have had a shop.  Maybe not exactly one or the other, but a liklihood that somewhere in these ruins was the site of the three tentmakers, as reported in Acts.  

And in Acrocorinth, the site of the temple to Aphrodite, I meditate a bit on how practices at that temple might have heightened Paul’s concerns about sexual sin and the Corinthian churches (a thread in these letters.)

Amazing.

Just before we came down to the site, Andreas stopped me by a fairly modern (1970s,  I think he said) church.  In their front garden was a huge marble block, with a bible chapter inscribed on it in 4 languages, one side each Aramaic, Greek, English and French.   It’s 1 Corinthians 13.   While I don’t like that chapter by itself, but LOVE it in the context of Chapter 12, it really touched me this day.    I was being loved by a fellow Christian. 

Yeah, he got a sizable tip.  

Addendum:  I’m running out of biblical stuff to do.  So I’ll be doing some tourist stuff during the last two weeks.  On Sunday, if the weather cooperates (right now the ceiling in my hostel room is leaking, and we have towels on the floor trying to soak it up, an the forecast for Sunday is iffy) I will take a full day trip to hike the Samaria Gorge.   If the weather does not cooperate, I’ll do that the next time I am in Crete.   After I leave Crete I’ll spend a few nights in Nafplio, and a couple nights on Hydra before going to Athens for the last six nights.    I’ll be back in the states on the 30th and back at home the evening of the 31st.    This adventure started 3 months ago today, and I have only 17 days left.    

Delightful Kos - Amazing Rhodes: Chasing Paul’s stopovers.

Acropolis of Kos

Acts 21:1 reads “ And so, with the tearful good-byes behind us, we were on our way. We made a straight run to Cos, the next day reached Rhodes, and then Patara.” (The Message)

Faced with three extra weeks in Greece, I am struggling to fill it.   I decided to visit a few islands, and for most of them picked islands that were at least mentioned in Paul’s journeys.   Attempts to add Samos and Ephesus in Turkey were foiled by ferry schedules disrupted by Covid and, more importantly, the end of the tourist season.   So the islands I’m visiting are Patmos, Kos (Cos), Rhodes, Crete (later in Acts, just before Malta) and possibly a couple days in Hydra just before Athens. 

Chasing Paul in Kos was pretty fruitless, so I did a lot of hiking.  A lot, including one very long day when I hiked to the major archeological site on the island, the Aeskleption, hiked back to town, explored another archeological site in town (the west site, as I’d done the Acropolis of Kos the day before) AND the archeological museum.   Looking at healing, exploring Hippocrates and the concept of healing in ancient times was quite possible, so that was my approach.

At the same time, I was completely taken by modern-day Kos!  It’s a wonderful island, with lovely beaches, lots of amazing food, an island-wide network of hiking trails, mountain biking, snorkeling, bike lanes throughout town (I have seen this no where else in Greece).   And I was in a great little family-run hotel for just 30 euro a night!   

Rhodes was almost as enchanting, especially the old town, and I was able to chase Paul to the town of Lindos, where a natural harbor called St. Paul’s Bay is traditionally the place that Paul’s ship docked in Rhodes.   It was an hour and a half bus ride each way, but I visited St. Paul’s bay, and the Acropolis of Lindos above that would have existed and looked down on the harbor in Paul’s day. And I actually swam in St. Paul’s Bay.

Both of these islands are places I’d love to return to, to explore as something other than a redirected pilgrim, share with my family.

John’s Patmos

Above, monastery of St. John the Theologian, Patmos.

Several of my blog entries have somehow disappeared.   I am not sure that they successfully published.  I can’t replace them as they were, but I can add some new ones, meditating on the sights that I’ve seen in the last week on Patmos, Kos (Cos in the Bible) and Rhodes.

I am sorry that I can’t offer a photo of the cave of the Apocalypse (Revelation) on Patmos.   It was really a cave, with a silver ring where John supposedly laid his head, a silver ring where he used a handhold, and a cloth and book where his scribe supposedly wrote down the Book of Revelation.   Seven times - since John wrote this supposedly for the seven churches. 

While I was visiting I listened to Revelation.   I have a Common English Bible from Audible, so I have been listening to the books related to my journeys as we go.  Revelation is, of course, a widely misunderstood book.   It’s often seen as a prediction of the future, but is actually a critique of the contemporary times of St. John, and of the Roman occupation of his time and it’s excesses.   That said, when I was listening I was struck by how the middle, violent part of the book is dwarfed by the rest of it.

The rest of it is about how churches are and are not churches, with warnings about failures that we fall into, things that are sometimes common in today’s churches, not just the persecuted churches of Asia Minor that John was preaching to.    How often, for example, are we neither hot nor cold but lukewarm?  Kind of following Christ, but not really going the full way to do so, maybe just happy with our Sunday to Sunday experience and not really putting ourselves out there?  And at the end of course the glorious vision of the end of the war with God winning, and the New Jerusalem descending. 

Because that is the real message of the book, that God wins, despite our failures, despite the real presence of evil in the world, despite, even the lack of religiosity in our current times - God wins.   Not actually in an “apocalyptic” end times way - that is a fable designed to teach us a little of how evil manifests itself in the world, today, as well as in the days of the Roman Empire - but in an irresistible, inevitable way.   God wins.  Amen.  

And an unexpected relationship

Iulia (her name is essentially the Russian version of Julie: first thing in common) and I met during a moment which was not good for either of us. We’d missed a train.   The guy in the ticket office had given both of us the same wrong information, and we sat at a track while our train pulled away on another track.  Silently. We never heard it 

We complained long and loud, but it was only when I said, it really doesn’t matter whose fault it is, please help us fix this, that he did, suggesting that we talk to the supervisor of the next train going in the right direction, which we did, and she let us on the train.   And he changed our tickets to Kalambaka for us, so we would have a train to change to.

Iulia and I spent the whole train ride talking and getting to know each other.   We are terribly different: she is in her 40s with a child still in school, and one out in the world, we are on basically different ends of the spectrum in handling Covid, me vaccinated and wearing a mask religiously, and she being the Russian equivalent of a vaccine denier who basically refuses to wear a mask (at one point she accepted from me one of my cloth ones, because she liked the pattern, and the conductor was getting real testy about it, but she still took it off when he was out of the way. 

But we bonded. And we ran into each other the next day at Agios Triados (Holy Trinity) Monastery, and I asked her to join me for dinner, which we did, and enjoyed each other.   Now she has an invitation to the US when all this mess is over, and I have one to visit Russia (though she lives 16 hours by train east of Moscow, so it might be a while until my travels take me there.)

Strange and wonderful; we have been connecting with each other via WhatsApp since.  

An unexpected pleasure

   

I spent three nights in Kalambaka and I hiked the amazing Holy Rocks in Meteora, one of the highlights of Greece, I am told.   In the process I visite six orthodox monasteries, and a 9th-11th century church, and made a new friend.

The rocks in Meteora were created by a unique blend of minerals resulting in almost a natural concrete, and shaped by unique forces into towering rock columns, more than a thousand of them, in a relatively small area north of the towns of Kalambaka and Kastraki in northern Greece.  They are an awe inspiring natural phenomenon, but even more awe inspiring is the people who have come here to dedicate their lives, their whole lives, every bit of it, to their God 

Six monasteries remain, at one point there were many more.  Four have small numbers of men (1 to 3) and two of them house about a total of 40 women.   The monasteries are available to tour, indeed the nuns make a good living off selling souvenirs and religious goods, but they do both, invite the public in and send them out with souvenirs, in the hope that God’s spirit will break into their lives, that their example of faith may spark faith in others.

And they are real about it.  On finding out I was a Protestant minister, one nun spent a while in broken English, telling me about her favorite saint, and why he inspires her faith.   Never mind that customers were waiting.   She was so enthusiastic and so fully committed. 

There is a lot of solitude here, but there is also community: around the dinner table, in the community prayer, just in living with each other.  The monks and nuns at the six monasteries in the air are aware of the others who have come here, and who live there now.  When the fog dips low over these structures, they surely live literally within that great cloud of witnesses 

If my plans had gone as planned, I would have completely missed this.   I came to Meteora only because I was not going to Israel.   I wonder what other surprises are in store for me here 

Too fast

I did Thessaloniki too fast. 

Mostly on this trip, I have been taking things at a slower pace, trying to savor the ambiance and what happened here.  But I only scheduled 10 days for Greece, originally, and I did not alter the first few days when Israel fell through 

That left me with three nights booked in Thessaloniki, (at one of the best hostels I’ve been at yet.)  I could easily have spent four or five days here, Thessaloniki, with it’s richness of treasures, varied neighborhoods and wonderful day trip possibilities, could easily support a week. 

Instead I was going out at 7, intime to visit churches or to grab a bus to the airport even earlier, going all day, putting major miles on my hiking boots eating late and falling exhausted into bed at night.

That did not mean there were not wonderful moments.   Let me share three of them. 

The first night I took a free walking tour with Giorgious of Thessalonikifreewalks.com.  It was a hilarious walk through Greek mythology, appropriate this close to Mt Olympus.  Each person was assigned a Greek God to be, mine was Demeter, and we walked about normal Greek streets and houses and the businesses that support them, not tourists, stopping where the business invoked something about a myth.  For example, we talked about Hermès in front of the Post Office and by a pharmacy.   I can’t begin to explain the fun of the tour, but I did end up having dinner with the tour guide and some of the participants.  It was a lovely evening of  connecting. 

Second was a moment the next morning when I walked into the Agios Demetrios.  There was something just so solemn and sacred about the very atmosphere in the large, Byzantine church.  Maybe it was the darkness, punctuated by candles, maybe it was the people stopping in for a prayer at 7:30 in the morning before they started their day, maybe it was the intensity of the icons, Maybe it was my tiredness, I don’t know, but I felt very close to God in that Holy Place.   Same thing at the Agios Sophia, to a lesser extent. 

The third was walking in Philippi.   It really felt, much more than Thessaloniki, like walking in the steps of the Bible, of Paul.   While it was a thrill to see his supposed cave prison, the real joy was the Octagon there, and imagining the people, 1700 years ago, finally able to build a building to honor God, after centuries of their religion being illegal. The joy is still palpable in the ruins.   It still felt like a holy place as well.  

Luther and the Jews

Solpersteine in Lutherstadt Eisleben.

Luther, as I said yesterday, was very much one who worked with others, who bounced things off others,who collaborated.   

But he could also be as stubborn as could be, and when he was stubborn, we sometimes could see how incredibly wrong he was.  

This came up with the debate with Zwingli.   Their differences of opinion about communion, and differences of opinion about baptism with the anabaptists essentially sentenced Protestantism to a state of being splintered that we are still seeing every time a new church decides that they can’t agree to disagree and creates a new independent entity.   The prayer of Jesus in John’s Gospel, that they may all be one, is left behind in the fallout that really hinges from Luther’s inability to let other people follow their conscience if it was different from Luther’s.

But where Luther really did damage to all of human history was in his treatment of the Jews.   The Askenazi Jewish people, those who settle in Central Europe, already knew decades of persecution when the fifteenth century dawned.  I highly recommend the Jewish museum in Berlin for an overall look at what the story of the Jews in Germany is, both the places and times when they thrived, and when their culture was, if not celebrated, at least respected, and we have a wonderful record, and the times, represented in this sabbatical by my visit to the Synogogue in Erfurt, when Jews were not only oppressed, but often murdered.  

Of course, this all came to its peak with the Holocaust, and the Solperstein, like those above all over Germany, are a stark reminder of that truth.  We like to think that this was all on Hitler and the Nazis, but places like that Old Synogogue, and the places that commemorate Luther’s life, are careful to remind us of a different story. 

Luther was mad at the Jews for not converting to Christianity. This became such a focus for him at the end of his life that we wrote devastatingly about the Jewish people, urging their destruction if they did not come to Jesus. 

And it was these writings that allowed twentieth century Christians to buy into the Final Solution of the Third Reich.  It was these writings that made it possible for the Christian Church in Germany to become complicit in the actions of the Nazis.  Luther, revered by them, had said destroying Jews was OK.  It was this point of view that made the Confessing church a community of outlaws.   There is no question that the threads of history that allowed hate to cause the murder of six million Jews in twentieth century Germany has its roots in these writings by this esteemed Christian leader. 

While I no longer believe that making a mistake, even a big mistake, destroys the life work of a person, I am glad that we as Protestant Christians can question and deeply regret these words.   I am very glad that every Luther house, every discussion of his life and his thought here in Germany brings these things to life.  I am glad that every church with anti-Jewish iconography (except one) addresses that iconography. 

The Stadtkirche in Wittenberg once had a brass plaque on its side that had two knights fighting.  The prevailing knight, on a horse, was wearing the sign of the cross, but the losing night was wearing a cap that was associate with Jewish people, and in a deeply troubling and offensive vision, riding a pig. 

That plaque is no longer there (I may have a photo of it from 2005, by there is not one in this year’s photos, because it has clearly been taken down.).  But, it is not forgotten.   In front of it, in the front, is a brass plate, like a flat square on the ground, broken in four quarters, and from underneath you can see something bubbling up.  It looks ugly an dark, and like the four squares above are trying to keep the ugliness out of sight, but failing. 

It’s message to me is that we cannot hide the ugliness of the past, whether it is the hate of others, or the writings of those we consider our own.   We need to own it, we need to reject it, but we need to seek reconciliation.   Hundreds of years of hatred of the Jews was in part fueled by these hateful writings of Luther’s.  We need to keep remembering that.  

Luther land

I spent 8 days in Luther Land.   Had I known that the Israel portion of my trip would be canceled, I would have extended that, taken it more slowly, an included Worms (and likely a few days am Rhine).   But it was what it was, and what it was was wonderful.   In chronological order I visited

1. Wittenberg.  Probably the most important Lutherstadt, this is where he spent the vast majority of his life as a professor at the University.  Doctor Luther was evidently very learned, he clearly was very intelligent, but he was also deeply involve with the lives of his students and friends.   I did a full set of museums here, Luther House, Melanchthon House, Luther Oak, Asisi panorama, Cranach House, SChlosskirche, including the tower, Market square with Luther and Melanchthon statue, and Stadtkirche.  I also worshipped with pilgrims at the Schlosskirche and an with a small but vital community of nuns in the tiny Corpus Christi chapel.

2.  Erfurt.   I had the wonderful opportunity to actually sleep in the Renaissance courtyard at the Augustinerkloster.   I visited the site of the University, the building where Luther was housed, The Catholic Cathedral where he was ordained a priest, and the also Catholic Church next door, and of course, the Kloster itself, where I not only did the tour and slept and ate a wonderful breakfast (and lunch, to be honest) from the buffet.   I traveled north of the city to the LutherStein, where Luther prayed that he would become a monk if allowed to live.  I also enjoyed the view from the Petersburg, a fortress overlooking the city, and enjoyed a little bit of beer mixed with local seasonal raspberry soda at the Erfurt Oktoberfest.

3. Eisenach.  I did this as a day trip by rail from Erfurt and visited the Wartburg, one of the two best castles in Germany in my opinion, and walked into town to visit the Luther House in town, where he lived as a young student, briefly.

4. Eisleben.   Luther was born here and died here.  He was baptized here, which is important in Lutheran theology, of course.   I was not able to see the Andreaskirche, where he preached his last sermon.  By I did see the birth house, the death house, and Sts. Peter and Paul church where he was baptized and which is now a baptismal center.  

5. Mansfeld.  Luther grew up here, living here till he was 13, and then presumably on school breaks until he entered the monastery, and then presumably visiting family here throughout his life.   I was able to visit the family house, the school where he was, the local Luther monument and walk around the church.  I did this as a day trip from Eisleben by bus.   It was pretty easy as I lucked into a bus that went the right way. 

So what did I learn about Luther?

First, that he was unusually blessed with gifts and opportunity.   His genius did not come out of nowhere.  He was born into a family that was hard working an entrepreneurial, and he no doubt learned well from them.    He was the recipient of an excellent education from the beginning, and seems to have taken particularly well to languages, learning Latin as a boy, well enough to go to college.   It is also clear that his family was warm and caring, that parents worried about not being too strict an that forgiveness and reconciliation was a part of his growing up.   Having that modeled to him from his early days, Luther had a framework to understand grace when he was thinking about his heavenly father as well.    

Second that this very liberal (for that time) environment extended to the monastery, where his questions were engaged seriously, where he was given a great deal of experience and opportunity, despite the seeming limited character of the experience of being a monk.  It was here he was finally able to read the Bible.  It was here that he was encouraged to think for himself.  It was here he was presented with the opportunity to go to Rome. 

Third, that he was not, ever, a solo player.  Even as he shouldered the focus of the reformation, in reality people like Melanchthon were at his side.   He regularly collaborated with people (especially on his translation of the Old 

Testament) and he constantly revised his work.  Indeed he was still revising his Bible right up until his death.

Fourth, that he made serious mistakes.   Mistakes that were a factor in tragedy on a massive scale.  I’ll write more about this tomorrow.  

And now on to Greece, and St. Paul.

Community matters

No picture today, at least not on this page (I think I have to enter one to post, but we’ll see.)

This morning I read a long post on Facebook about a community where people were leaving because one denomination was concerned with keeping people safe during Covid, and requiring masking and distancing, where other local congregations were worshipping in person with no limitations.  People were leaving and the pastor, who has worked herself silly during this pandemic, is both exhausted and distraught.  What happened, she asked, to community? What indeed?

I also received, today, an email from an old friend, a pastor who had been my pastor for around 20 years, between my joining the UCC and my ordination.  He was my mentor, my friend, my spiritual inspiration.   I sent him a postcard from Rome and, despite the fact that the friendship has not been very active, he emailed to me.  

I thought I was coming on Sabbatical to learn more about the context of the church, the context of the Reformers, the context of the Gospels.   Instead I have learned more about community: the community around Martin Luther most recently, but the community of Reformed reformers, including Knox, the community of the early church in Rome and outside Rome in the Catacombs, of which the family of St. Cecelia is central. The communities that I’ve been part of, if briefly: the community of the Scottish church down the street from the apartment I quarantined in, who welcomed me in their online service, the communities at Iona, at Brot und Rosen, the sisters in the tiny Corpus Christe chapel in Wittenberg, the community that prays around a Coventry Cross here in Erfurt.  The Roman Catholic community of monks praying evening prayer in the Basilica of St. Francis and the community of pilgrims gathering for prayer at the same time.  The working, everyday communities, the just on Sunday communities, and the once in a lifetime communities. 

Community matters.   Even if you don’t completely understand what is going on, because it is in a different language.  Even if you don’t agree completely with what is being said.   Even if you are barred from the Communion table (the ultimate expression of the joining of community) because you don’t believe the “right” way. 

Martin Luther did not post his 95 Theses because he wanted to start a new church.  He did so to help the community he was part of examine itself and be truer to the walk with Jesus.   In 2011 Pope Benedict came to visit the Augustinerkloster here in Erfurt.  Last Wednesday instead of an English language service, there was a commemoration of that visit 10 years ago.  It was a step back toward community.  

It would do us all good to have a little more balance between what we personally want and the welfare of the communities we are part of. A little less “I” and a little more “we” woul be a great thing for the life of the church.

Someone made up my room - and I did something that was just fun.

Someone made up my room today.  This might seem strange coming from someone who has been traveling for 2 1/2 months, but today was the first time I was in a place where someone made up the room.   Either I’ve been in apartments, or in a monastic community, or in a hostel, or in a home (my brother’s or Brot und Rosen’s).   Augustinerkloster is run more like a hotel (with prices to match - now that I am not going to three expensive places in Israel, this stay is the most luxurious of my sabbatical. 

It is a little strange to be served in this way.    I’ve been making my bed(and did this morning - the maid did not change that, nor did she move my towels, but the trash was emptied, and the toilet paper was folded into a little point. )

I also did something entirely hedonistic.  After a full Martin Luther day (Lutherstein, Wartburg and Lutherhaus in Eisenach) I arrived back home too late for church at the monastery, so I took a tram across town and went to the Octoberfest, where I had my favorite roasted mushrooms, a sheep cheese sandwich, and my new favorite beer - a Radler made with a seasonal Himbeer (raspberry) soda.  It’s bright pink and it is very, very yummy.   

Luther thought it was OK to enjoy life every now and then.   At least arguably.  This very family oriented Oktoberfest was a lot of fun.   I might go there for dinner tomorrow, too!

Every theology has problems

While in Wittenberg, I’ve been to just about everything. Lutherhaus, Melanchthonhaus, Cranakhaus (und Hof), the Panorama, the Luthergarten (all 3 sites, and I found the Allegheny Synod tree!

Plus the Schlosskirche, the Stadtkirche, and the Corpus Christie chapel next to the Stadtkirche.  I’m sure I am missing something, but I did a lot of Luther stuff here. 

One of the most pervasive things that I take back home with me, other than the fact that it is just really good to pray in community; thank you so much sisters of the Christusbruderschaft, is the incompleteness of humankind.  At first I experience that, in the Lutheran context as the idea of complete depravity; that we are all, at base sinners.  Note that in the modern time that is paired with the gift of grace, that we are also all saints, and as important as this concept is, it is not at the forefront when searching out Luther in Wittenberg.   

Luther, of course, had his own limits.  He did not take the reformation as far as others wanted to, others who had good theological ideas and ground, but who were also imperfect.   He famously, toward the end of his life, published notable anti-Semitic rhetoric, rhetoric exemplified by a brass relief on the side of the Schlosskirche (now, thankfully having been removed) of a Christian knight on a horse prevailing over a Jewish knight on a pig.   This was a highly offensive image to Jews, and Luther’s writings on this subject helped fuel Naziism.   Today there is a memorial on this site,whose message is that this kind of hate will bubble up where you let it stand.  An alas, my photos of this are on my camera, not on my phone. 

But this has me thinking about the limits of all theology.  As someone who serves both reformed (UCC) and evangelical (ELCA) congregations, I have the benefit of being able to test, and to choose what theologies I share with my community, which I find compelling, and which I find flawed.    I can even exten this, in an extremely limited way, to the biblical record (Binding of Isaac, anyone?   Conquest of Canaan?). 

But I am left with the certainty that somewhere in what i am teaching, I am wrong.   Because I am not God.   As everyone is.   Every time I preach I pray for Christ’s words, not mine, to be at play in the hearts and minds of my people.  This is why.  Because it is not all about sin, or all about grace, or all about anything, except Jesus. And not Jesus as presented to us in the Bible, which is colored by those whose wrote it, but the Jesus who is indeed living today.   

With God’s grace, I pray that in community we can come closer to Jesus than we could individually.   This might need to become a sermon. 

Community

The Chapel at Brot und Rosen (pictured above) is a simple, paneled room with a candle, a bible (the Bible inevitably sits on the altar in Lutheran/Evangelical and Reformed churches in  Germany and Switzerland), a set of song and prayer books (and extra bibles) and a number of items to focus prayer, visually and using sound.  

While the original theme of my sabbatical was context (and I am indeed exploring context) the theme coming OUT of the sabbatical, so far, is community.   I stayed with the Iona Community in Scotland and with the Sisters of the Atonement in Assisi.  I explored the community of the early church in Rome, and made connections between the catacombs and the early churches, especially in Trastevere.  I am getting ready to, in Erfurt, stay in the Augustinerkloster where Luther was a monk in Erfurt, and have added the monasteries of Meteora to my Greece itinerary.   Of course the community here at Brot und Rosen, and the community of the Basisgemeinde Wulfshagenerhuetten. And I have experienced community in a number of youth hostels, even community coming together hesitantly, and at a distance. 

Community, it seems, is a theme I will carry back. 

One thing all of these communities have in common is daily prayer.   I prayed twice a day with the community in Iona, had evening prayer in Assisi with a couple of communities, prayed every morning with the community here at Brot und Rosen (and again before eating in the evening.)

It seems to me this community daily prayer is something that nourishes my soul in a very real way, and I find myself contemplating how that might happen in my own life. 

The Brot und Rosen service is very short and very simple.  An opening sentence, opening Taize prayer, bible reading, five minutes of silent prayer, a closing song and a closing prayer, inviting us into the day.  The morning and evening prayer at the Iona community is more complex, including some responses, but is also short. 

Is it possible that community prayer is what others in my community need?  Is it possible that I might find people to join me, either via internet or in person in the churches of the Rebersburg charge?

One issue I personally have, is a struggle to keep up daily prayer alone in the face of busyness.   With a community, and with that expectation, even if one must occasionally be absent, it is easier for me to persist. 

I am committed to repeating the Brot und Roses morning prayer M-F during the rest of my Sabbatical; keep watching this space to see how well I do with that!  But when I get home that will become much more challenging!  If you are part of my commmunity, local church or larger community, let me know if you would be interested in joining me, either in person or via some kind of streamed content!

Beyond Service

A couple times I have taken groups of people to Washington, DC for a trip that combines exposure to different histories and stories with volunteering at Thrive DC.  These trips are usually billed as “service” trips, but invariably the group comes back having made new friends, having met people that they now care about, in the Thrive DC community, in the staff, and especially among the people who come to Thrive DC.

It should be no surprise to me to have the same thing happen to me, here in Hamburg.   I came to Brot und Rosen, originally, because I wanted to add a service component to my Sabbatical. Well, this trip has been very light on the service (though I’ve done a fair amount of cooking and dish washing, some tree pruning and some weed pulling, not to mention help unloading trucks and heading for the Bioladen (Health Food Store) which gives us their somewhat aged produce.

Did you notice the word “us” in the last sentence?   Because over the three weeks I have visited with Brot und Rosen, I have, instead of serving them, become one of them, if only for a brief time.   I have come to love A., the little baby, who I occasionally take for a stroll, or play with so his Mama can get a chore done.  I have come to care for the others here (I am not going into more detail here, as some of these people have complex stories, some are still working to become documented and accepted immigrants, and both they and I value their privacy. ). Their stories have touched me, but more importantly, sitting around a dinner table, enjoying a meal has bonded us.  Sharing a shower, and having to wait until someone is done (or, better yet, rising in the morning before the others to get a shower in before everyone else wants one) has bonded us.  Laughing together over our language struggles has bonded us. 

There is family you are born to and family you choose, for a season or for a lifetime.  This group of people is family to me, both the permanent residents and the ones staying here during a particularly difficult time in their lives.  At least for this season.   I hope some of them, someday, find their way to the US.   And I hope that there are other stays at Brot un Rosen for me, and maybe my husband, in the future. 

Cancellation

I spent a good deal of today working out my return home and my cancellations for the Israel portion of my trip.   Israel will only be welcoming in groups, not individual travelers, in October.    I AM looking for a group, leaving from Europe, that I might join but so far have no options in that area.   And a change to my British Airways flight (British Airways is only flying into JFK, not Newark, now, and I will need to get across New York City in order to catch my train on the 31st.)

I am now flying out of Athens on October 30th instead of out of Tel Aviv (my Athens to Tel Aviv flight is still there, but I expect to cancel it later, or have it be canceled by El Al (Hoping for the latter since in theory they have to refund my money if they do, hence why I am keeping it.)

What will I do?   I’m looking at my Greece guidebook, also considering Serbia, Croatia, Montenegro, as well as Cypress.  Maybe I’ll spend a week on a Greek island. 

Cancelling weeks of reservations takes a lot of time, AND it is hard.  This time not quite so hard, since I will get through all but the last three weeks, and I do have the last three weeks to re-plan.   Still, a bit of a downer. 

Good Morning

I’m often the first one awake. At least in the house (I think one person’s home is outside of the basic house, since she comes through the door most mornings, and had a child (families generally have a small apartment elsewhere in the complex.).  That will shock my husband, but lately even without the alarm I am up and about by 7, a full hour before our prayer together, which is at 8:30 on Monday and Tuesday and at 8 on Wednesday - Friday (I think this allows for work schedules.)

The first one up makes a carafe full of coffee, so I’m making coffee most mornings.   It’s from a large French press, no drip here, and poured into a large thermal carafe for whoever wants some. 

We start every day with prayer.    I photographed the prayers so I would have them.  They are short and good, and I hope to continue this kind of prayer through the rest of my Sabbatical.   It suits me, combining song, prayer, communion on Mondays, and a time of silence that is meaningful but not too long.   

Waking early, praying the day in with others.   Truly a good morning.   I wonder if, once he retires, my husband would join me in a daily prayer time in the morning.  It could change the whole meaning of the phrase.

Good morning. 

Searching for Jerusalem

Full disclosure - I stole this graphic off the internet.  Since it’s via my phone, I can’t even attribute it.  Sorry. 

I’ve been searching pilgrimage tours in Israel for the whole afternoon so far (at 5 I’ll head out for an organ concert at Hauptkirche St. Jakobi, which supposedly has the largest organ (60 registers, more than 4000 pipes, for those who pay attention to such things) in Northern Europe.   

Israel is letting tourists in (even from Greece) effective September 19, but only in groups.   Individual travel is supposed to resume in November, just a tad late for me.   So I am researching group pilgrimages, which would get me to Israel, if not exactly as I had hoped.   Mostly I am looking at tours from Great Britain, as English would be helpful.  

It’s a little complex, and one tour operator has already told me no can do, we recommend you book in December (which I can’t actually do) but we will see if this is an option for me.  It means moving everything in Greece to another time, maybe even rushing Luther a bit (but I can rework that at the end) and extra travel to and from Great Britain, but it might happen.   

Maybe all of you are praying for me to get to Israel.  If so I thank you and will assume, if I get there, that you ha something to do with it. 

Pondering Operation Gomorrah

The highest church tower in Hamburg is no longer part of a church.  Since “Operation Gomorrah” in 1943-44 it is a ruin.  The memorial has a variety of interesting art, there is an elevator in the tower so that through the blackened stone arches, buttresses, and gargoyles, the city of Hamburg is laid out below you, and in the former crypt of the church, there is a moving exploration of the history of the church, and the experience of the destruction as Allied bombs rained down on the city, creating 1000 degree heat and fire storms (I believe these to be like the “fire tornados” we sometimes read about in fire situations.).  

Germany does not, in this memorial, flinch from their own complicity.  They refer to the firebombing of Coventry, and the Blitz in London, and they especially focus on the utter destruction of the firebombing of Warsaw, Poland.  They make it clear that there were people who opposed the firebombing, and that the people who carried it out, in at least some cases, had regrets.  It explores how the pilots (in all these cases) were given targets, not knowing that these were residential areas, and that even women and children would be burned alive. 

37,000 people died in Operation Gomorrah.  Another 180,000 were wounded.  

The Coventry bombing killed 176 and injured another 680.

The London Blitz, of course killed many more, as did the firebombing of Warsaw!

It chronicles the movement to leave the ruin of the church as a memorial, and the process toward that goal. 

And there was a carillon concert in the middle of my visit, and I got some recording done (albeit over the construction going on next door.)

Americans don’t do that.   9/11 memorials remember the fallen, lift up the heroes, identify those directly responsible, as they should, but fail to investigate the historical events and trends that lead to it, an follow from it.   Americans, unlike Germans, seem unable to admit any kind of fault in their country and their history, even though, objectively, it is clear that we have not always acted justly in our history.  

Maybe we can’t.  I have recently been introduced to the work of Max Weber, a sociologist who traces the rise of capitalism to reformed theology.   I have not yet read his work (which dates from over 100 years ago, but I will when I have time and I return home..). But, per Wikipedia, basically his argument is, in part, that the desire to prove that one is elect spurred the Protestant Work ethic.  Because we really believe that our success proves us to be more loved by God than others, at least to ourselves.  We laugh at it taken to extremes in the Gospel of prosperity, but we look down at homeless and blame them for their homelessness base on character traits we imagine.  So this is a compelling idea to me, at least at this moment in time. 

Germany is primarily Lutheran.   Luther lifted up our sinfulness, complete depravity.   Maybe that is why Germans, formed by that theology, can confess and even memorialize the errors of the past, even as Americans are trying to avoid teaching American error, like slavery and violent colonialism and destruction of native populations, not to mention foreign policy that has for generations been so self-centered as to inspire the kind of hate in us that led to 9/11.   Let me be clear, there is indeed no excuse for 9/11:  it is a horrible crime and those who came through on that day: police, firefighters, normal citizens on Flight 93, are truly heroes.   That is a story that should be told, and we should always remember.   But we should also examine the context, the rise of anti-Muslim sentiment in the country afterward.  We should be honest about all of the story. 

The Germans are as complete as they can about the whole story.   And their memorials are moving, and touching, and real.  

Laundry Day

Almost all my clothes were dirty, so I did laundry today.   Here at Brot und Rosen, the efforts and rhythm of everyday life predominate.  Finding the right time when I can take a shower, and someone else will not need the bathroom (which serves about 6 rooms).   Making the evening meal, which is the hot meal of the day, and the time when all the people come together.   And, of course, laundry. 

So most everything is dirty now.   I have a limited amount of clothing, so I go through it every week or so. It’s been 9 days since my last laundry, and except for one item of clothing (can you guess which?) I could go another 2 or 3 days.   

In Germany, and elsewhere in Europe (ou might remember this from Italy) dryers are scarce, particularly in homes.   People hang their laundry.  I have a “Besucher” room (guest room) which I suspect is nicer than the others, and which has a terrace.  It’s a small terrace and it has a lot of weeds growing on it, but it is nice.  So, not wanting to impose my wet clothing on everyone, I have put it out on the terrace, on one of these ubiquitous drying racks (You see them everywhere in Germany!) 

Focusing on the daily tasks of life, from this meal to the morning cleaning, to laundry, to dinner together, is a lot of the life here at Brot und Rosen.  While some of the residents work, full or part time, and others are taking language lessons or somehow other engaged, some are not able to work because of their current immigration status.  And these, especially the ones studying reman in order to get a residence permit at some point in the future, basically have their whole lives within the walls of this house.   There is a significant effort to make that time, and that experience richer, with sharing, with conversation, and with even the rules of the house and the negotiation of when to do what work. (For example, there is only one washing machine, so you red to fit in your wash when others do not need it.  For me, I am active in the morning and some others are not, so I did my wash first thing in the morning, even before our morning prayer service.   Washing machines are slow here, so it was an hour and a half later, on the fast cycle, that I took it out and hung it out on my terrace.  Tonight I will fold an place the stuff on my shelves and in my drawers, and be done until most likely next Tuesday, when I’ll be preparing to go onto the next step in my Sabbatical. 

Please do pray for me.   There is some indication on one of the Israeli travel web sites that they may open to visitors in October.  Of course I need them to do so in the first week of the month to maintain my itinerary, and I need to know that it is going to happen in the next two or so weeks so I can change my schedule to accommodate.  It would be wonderful to be able to go to Israel.   If not, I will spend extra time in Germany, and likely will finish in Greece.   

2 questions.   What do I run our of first?  And what single piece of my wardrobe is the most valuable to me?   I’ll answer in the comments.   

Cooking for the House

I cook. 

People who know me, know that.   I just love to make a great spread for guests.   I love dinners that take all day (I love slow food.)

So I knew I was going to cook here at Brot und Rosen.   But the trick is figuring out what.   You need to use the ingredients that are available, mostly that have been donated by a food pantry group or the local Health Food Store (lots of produce a little past peak.  Sometimes well past peak. (Sometimes unusable.)). And basically you need to improvise with what is there.  And vegan is highly prized. 

After my coleslaw on Monday, which disappeared, and my plum cake on Wednesday, which was pronounced “lecker” (delicious) I had a reputation to live up to. 

And limited options for food.  I could get some things, but did not want to stress Brot und Rosen’s pocketbook (yes, the best solution is just to buy the stuff, and not worry about it, but I didn’t want to do a lot of that.  I DID spend 6 and a half euro on cheddar cheese and margarine. 

So I made Laurel’s veggie chili, some Spanish rice using leftover rice from yesterday, and an apple pie.  There were also a variety of raw veggies available. 

It disappeared.  I thought I made enough for 12-1 people, but fewer (about 9 showed up.).  But one person saved a portion for someone who was not there, and four people saved some for Sunday (there is no central table on Sunday, and everyone can cook and eat by themselves.

When all was said and done, the chili just disappeared.  There is still half an apple pie.   It was not the best apple pie I ever made, but it was OK.   I need Crisco, and there does not seem to be a comparable product here.   

Now, all I need to do is come up with something for next week.   Maybe Mac and Cheese?

Talking the Talk

This morning, Birgit and I participated in a weekly protest outside the ministry that handles Asylum seekers and refugees.  With signs reading “Asyl ist Menschenrecht” (Asylum is a human right) and “Kein Mensch ist Illegal” (No human is illegal) we, with two men (whose names I did not completely catch:   One was a two syllable name starting with E, but I can’t remember it.  Names are driving me slowly crazy!) stood outside the ministry and passed out flyers to people coming there with the addresses of organizations that provide legal services and medical services. 

As Birgit points out, people don’t generally leave home unless something really bad is going on there, and most refugees are fleeing really bad stuff.  Surely the ones living with me these three weeks are.  They come from Algeria, Afghanistan, Syria, they are fleeing destruction, the breakdown of their society, and even abuse in some cases.   There are more, but I am not sure of all of them.  They are full of worry about family left behind, or family that is dealing with immigration in other parts of the world, or even just people that are now very far from them.   They come with nothing, and need to build their lives, usually alone, from scratch. 

I am reminded these days that we are in the US facing an influx of refugees.   How can my churches help support people coming from the war in Afghanistan?   How can we perhaps be part of a team that helps people arriving with nothing get on their feet and live in a totally new reality, as refugees.  It’s a hard question, and the politics of this world have produced so many refugees in this century and the last.  I say, today a prayer for all of them, that God, however recognized or honored (or not) may walk with them through these frightening times.   

Brot und Rosen

Oh, let all who thirst

Let them come to the water.

And let all who have nothing

Let them come to the Lord.

Without money, without price; 

Why should you spend your life

Except for the Lord?”

Isaiah 55, paraphrased in John Foley’s song, Come to the Water

Describing Brot und Rosen is hard, and I am not sure that I quite understand everything that is going on here.  And that is OK!

 When I first got here I was asked my expectations.   I said, truthfully, that I didn’t have many expectations.   I had been looking for a service components for my sabbatical, I had asked my friend Cornelia from the Westphalian church, and she had immediately suggested this.    I like Cornelia and trust both her and God working in her, so I wrote to them and applied. 

I knew they provided housing to refugees, and I knew I they were related to Dorothy Day’s Catholic Worker movement, but my concern was giving back during part of my sabbatical. 

But this is much more, and much different from a typical service opportunity.  This is a community that differs from the community in the world as we know it.   It is a community like we find in Acts 3; “ The whole congregation of believers was united as one—one heart, one mind! They didn’t even claim ownership of their own possessions. No one said, “That’s mine; you can’t have it.” They shared everything.”(The Message)

Four people who live here all the time: Birke, Birgit, Sarah, and Dietrich (I think:   I am really struggling to connect names here) some of whom work elsewhere, most part time, put all of their salaries into the common purse.  Each person, including the ones who live here for a season or for a time, takes what they need: food, clothing when it is available, some pocket money, etc.   Each person contributes to the running of the house.  Because many of the people here are unemployed and in transition, they are the recipients of a certain amount of charity; food pantries, groceries with dated goods, etc. and the community strives to use these things as well as they  can.   For example a food truck came Monday with a whole load of red bell peppers in excellent condition, and last night we had delicious roasted red pepper soup!

So part of the work is helping to keep up the house, cooking, etc.  yesterday one of the permanent residents came in with a bag of plums and suggested I make a plum cake.   With the help of others (finding ingredients, prepping the plums) I did, and it was pronounced “lecker” (delicious).   Monday I made coleslaw for the barbecue and went to buy the charcoal.  Every day I have done some dishes and Friday I will fashion a meal for everyone out of what we have.   I am considering veggie chili if there are enough tomatoes.

It is less work and more community here, and while simple, this community seems to be on a solid footing.   I have much to learn from them.

One note: one thing I don’t have is readily available internet: I am heavily using my cellular internet, which is limited.   So I may not blog as often these three weeks.

Germany and uncertainty

So finally I am in Germany, winging my way on a super fast ICE train to Hamburg.   I’ll spend a long weekend hanging with my brother, then three weeks as a volunteer with Brot und Rosen, a church based philanthropic organization that works with refugees.   With all the talk of Afghan refugees, this is something that I think will be as valuable to me as to them.   Maybe more so.   Then . . . . 

The truth is, I don’t know. 

Israel was set to start accepting tourists in early August, but they have not started it yet, and I don’t know if it will even be possible to travel there as an individual traveler.    If it is, it is not possible to come from Greece, which is on Israel’s list of no-no departure points. 

Currently, my itinerary has me traveling to  Thessaloniki on September 29, and traveling Athens to Tel Aviv on October 7.  One of those places is not going to happen, and I don’t know which.  I keep putting it off, but I do know that 7 days out, September 22, I will need to do SOMETHING to plan my way forward.

Israel is my priority, but if it is not possible, there is little I can do about it. 

If you are a praying person, keep me in your prayers. 

Ulrich Zwingli’s Zurich, and more boat rides.

There are three steeples here in this photo looking from the Zurich See (Lake) toward the river running into it.  On the left the Grossmuenster, and on the right the Frauenkirche and St. Peter’s Kirche.  These are the primary Reformed churches of Zurich, with two other churches of renown worth looking at. 

To be fair, the Frauenkirche has less to do with the Reformation than the stunningly beautiful set of 5 windows by Marc Chagall.    

The churches really don’t have much to say about the Reformation - to me, Calvin’s story is more interesting than Zwingli’s, but there is more about it in the  Landesmuseum, which I spent three hours contemplating Swiss history and the place of the reformation in it.   Some interesting facts. 

Zwingli beat Luther to translating the Bible into German.  At least according to the Landesmuseum Zurich.  

It was a really difficult and violent time, marked by profound intolerance of anyone who believed differently than you.  Hence clear annoyance between Zwingli and Luther, with the Scottish reformers complaining that Luther wasn’t answering their letters, and Luther, of course, exhibiting a bit of passive resistance. It really sounds like they didn’t like each other. 

And the profound fact that there is today in Switzerland, a great deal of tolerance for other people’s ways of worshipping.   Churches where protestant and Catholic congregations sometimes meet, tolerance for other non-Christian religion

Intolerance as caused so much pain.  Why can’t we get past it? 

And, Zurich also has water busses.  For an extra CHF 4.40 and a daily transit pass, you can take a 1.5 hour cruise around this side of the lake.    So I did it after I’d seen all the sights.  

John Calvin’s Geneva, and boat rides.

When I got to the top of the hill that houses Saint Pierre cathedral in Geneva, and discovered that the museum of the Reformation is closed for “transformation” and that Calvin’s auditorium was also closed, I was thinking , well this will be a short pilgrimage in Geneva!  Not so fast!

After I went to church at the Cathedral, toured the archeological excavations under it, which show the development of at least six different churches on the top of this hill between the first century and today, toured the cathedral and walked down to the Reformation Wall, it was only about two o clock in the afternoon, and I’d done everything on my list. 

Now before I go on, let me talk about Reformer’s Wall.  It is a huge memorial dedicate to the Reformers (primarily the reformed ones) starting with Calvin, Knox and a couple of their cronies.  But there are also options of it reflecting some of the more implicated history.  Jan Hus is mentioned, Luther and Zwingli have their own memorials right next to the walls.   Important events from the Reformed saga of the Reformation, including our Pilgrims are included.   

But it is big an a little bit cold, kid of like the memorials in socialist countries, like the ones in Havana and Berlin. Even though it is not propaganda, it has a little bit of the feel of that  kind of thing.  It also lines a park, and I saw it on a Sunday afternoon while children plate in the playground, the outdoor restaurant served brunch, people rented lawn chairs to sit in the sun, and both young and old people played chess with the huge lawn size chess pieces.     In this context the wall certainly loses some of it’s institutional quality.  And it is mighty impressive.   I went back Monday. 

So I spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening in the Park by the lake, taking pictures, writing in my journal, talking with a guy from Côte d’Ivoire who happened by, to the extent we could as we kept our distance and contended with not having a common language.

I ate a salad in the park - big, meal type salads are rare in Italy, at least without having some kind of meat on them, so the salads I had Sunday night (with cheese and falafel on it and Monday afternoon wtih olives, artichoke hearts and sun dried tomatoes) were a real treat.   I took the ferry boats all over this end of the lake, as they are included in the travel pass that the hostel gave me.   At the end of the day I played pinochle online with my sibs, four of us in three countries.   

After pinochle I researched walking tours in Geneva.   I knew there was a Reformation walking tour, but my notes said to get the brochure from the Reformation museum, and it was closed. Online I found a walking tour of seven historic churches in Geneva, and I used that to find out a little more about the development of church, and especially of freedom of religion, in Geneva.   

And I scored the Reformation walk brochure from the main TI in the English Garden, near the floral clock, although in German.  That works, I could read it (looking up a good Number of words) and followed it to a number of other sites including the local Lutheran Church and the site of the original Reformation School - because of course teaching children to read is essential if they are going to read the Bible. 

By the time i was finished, it was after 4, and I still had laundry and packing to do for tomorrow.   Off to Zurich and the story of Zwingli!