What a month February has been! I have been challenged and lifted up in so many new ways. The event that continues to be processed in the back of my mind is my journey to Israel (February 7-14) and the experiences of culture conflict. Words seem to fail in my effort to describe this experience. "Life changing" just doesn't seem to have the appropiate ring to it. However, that is probably the best term that I can use to describe what the whole geography, traditions, and culture of the Holy Land have done to my thinking.
It was the three of us volunteers who decided to take this journey together. The other two were named Matt (who is up in Scottland) and Amanda (who is in a close by parish in London). Our first exposure to the "tense" atmosphere of Israel was experienced on the plane when flight attendants had to quell a fist fight between Orthodox Jews. Apparently one had been given a kosher meal and the other not. Quite scary indeed.Late that evening, we made it to the apartment of my friend Paul. Paul is a friend from college who works for the Lutheran World Federation; an organization that is really involved in education and healthcare for Palestinians. His home and work are located right on top of the Mount of Olives and overlooks the Old City of Jerusalem. Throughout the week, we became educated on the conflict between the Israeli's and the Palestinians.
Israel as a country is very young- gaining it's independence in 1948. Because of the historical treatment of the Jews, it was agreed (by the UN) that this new nation would be Jewish in origin. This was not a large change as Jews have inhabitated the land for centuries. With the fall of the Roman Empire, people of Arab and Islamic descent also settled in Jerusalem and in the areas of Palestine causing fuel for the crusades in the 13th and 14th centuries. This element also became the major problem of the present day Israel: How do you settle a land that has two peoples"claiming" it? Immediatley, the new Israeli government started to push it's "pro Jewish" policies upon the area which resulted in more conflicts. Today, having control of the entire city of Jerusalem and most of the Palestinian territory, it still seeks to put preasure on the Palestinian people.
Jerusalem is a city with two parts: the Palestinian side and the Israeli side. It is more like two cities, or perhaps a city that is trying to dominate it's other part. There are two taxi systems, two bus systems, two electric grids, and two peoples. For us living on the Palestinians side, it became very frustrating for transportation as a bus or taxi wouldn't take you somewhere, even though it was a mile away. Palestinian cars are not allowed in any part of Jerusalem. Period. In order to live in Jerusalem as a Palestinian, you have to have a special "city permit" issued by the Israeli government. Without it, you are banned from entering the city. Period. I saw this seperation first hand as I talked with a Palastinian Christian taxi driver in Bethlehem. Even though Bethlehem is only 8 miles away from the Jerusalem city boundary, he has not been to Jerusalem in over 9 years. " I would really love to celebrate Easter at my church in Jerusalem", he said. "Without a city permit, that is impossible."
The seperation continues as Israel continues to build illegal (according to international law) settlements on Palestinian lands, claiming them as bargaining tools for international treaties to aquire more land for Israel. It becomes quite simple: if you already have citizens living in the area, you are more likley to aquire that area for your country in future delegations. Thus, "Israeli Citizen Only" roads connect the Jerusalem city propper to these various settlements in the West Bank. These roads bypass the check-points that Palestinians are required to go through.
Finally, there is the Israeli "Security Wall", a wall that stretches hundreds of miles supposedly seperating Israel from the "Palestinians Terrorists". Even with a city permit, Palestinian people stand in line for hours to get to work everyday because of the Israeli policy of letting only 2 people per minute walk through that gates. Thus, one Palestinian employee who lives in Ramallah told me he has to leave his house by 3.30am to get to work by 8am everday. I can't imagine living a life like that.
For many of us, it is hard to not get angry at a particular people. We either "hate" the Palestinians for sending suicide bombers to blow up things, or we "hate" the Jewish population for illigally settling in Palestinian lands. What I have come away with as the biggest cullprit to the the Israeli/Palestinian problem is not the deep rooted land conflict, but the ease of which our societies generalize a people. Through this, we find ourselves attacking and seeing the "people" as the problem, not the greed and politics.
In our last day of the trip, Paul invited us to join him in an interview process where we drove up into Palestinian villages and talked with graduates of the Lutheran World Federation Vocational Training Center. These were people who had persevered and had graduated to start a vocation in auto mechanics, carpentry, or design. One of the young mechanics, who works on Israeli vehicles constantly and is used to seeing Israelis coming to his village summed it all up by saying, "We live along side each other in peace every day. Why do we need to let our greedy leaders tell us otherwise?" That is the question I now continue to ask.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Saturday, February 2, 2008
A Visit with the Archbishop of York
Last week I recieved an email stating that I was nominated by the staff at Time for God to accompany them at a meeting with the John Sentamu, the Archbishop of York. After making sure the meeting would work into my own schedule, I gladly accepted the invitation. I didn't really know what to expect.
Thus, I boarded a train and traveled two hours up to the beautiful city York. The city still contains many medieval features like the wall that still surrounds much of the old city and tiny cobblestone streets that you can barley fit a car through. It all seemed amazing, that is, until I stepped off the train and nearly got blown off my feet! You see, Janurary and February for England is the time when winter Gales are at their finest. The day that I spent in York was a shining example of this. Record winds up to 80 mph were reported on the coast of the Irish Sea and more than a dozen ships were affected- some being blown against their will streight into the high cliffs and rocks. This system was continuing it's way southward and was hitting the city of York just around the time we were meeting with the Archbishop. It seems sometimes that not even the hand of God can stop hearty North Country people from going about their daily lives, let alone a measley storm with hurricane winds. Thus, my train remarkably got into the station relativley on time and more important- was only five minutes late going back to London. Even with the horizontal rain outside, people still came into the pub where we ate lunch before the big meeting and were quite cheerful and almost oblivious to the conditions around them. An amazing thing indeed.
The purpose of our meeting with the Archbishop was that of begining a relationship. Jon Sentamu recently agreed to be a patron of the organization Time for God and we were there to describe what the organization was all about and how he could help us. Archbishop Sentamu is an inspirational character who originally comes from Uganda. His passion for political stability on the African continent rings throughout his whole being and is best exampled by his refusal to wear a preist collar until there is peace within the currently politcal unstable country of Zimbabwe.
He was extremely down to earth and welcomed us all with a wonderful spirit to the Archbishop's Palace in York. What was most intriguing about his character and presence was his "no fluff" tone of speach. Every word he said meant somthing and it turned out that he spoke relativley little throughout the entire meeting. It inspired me to see how such a well known leader could talk so little. After the meeting, Claire (the other volunteer who was invited to come and who ironically was also from Uganda) and I braved the conditions and made it to York Minster before our trains departed. After the noise and cold weather outside, it was nice again to come into a space of such peace and tranquility. I now am back in London again inspired by the Archbishop to be ever more of a listener. I think it is somthing all of us could learn.
Thus, I boarded a train and traveled two hours up to the beautiful city York. The city still contains many medieval features like the wall that still surrounds much of the old city and tiny cobblestone streets that you can barley fit a car through. It all seemed amazing, that is, until I stepped off the train and nearly got blown off my feet! You see, Janurary and February for England is the time when winter Gales are at their finest. The day that I spent in York was a shining example of this. Record winds up to 80 mph were reported on the coast of the Irish Sea and more than a dozen ships were affected- some being blown against their will streight into the high cliffs and rocks. This system was continuing it's way southward and was hitting the city of York just around the time we were meeting with the Archbishop. It seems sometimes that not even the hand of God can stop hearty North Country people from going about their daily lives, let alone a measley storm with hurricane winds. Thus, my train remarkably got into the station relativley on time and more important- was only five minutes late going back to London. Even with the horizontal rain outside, people still came into the pub where we ate lunch before the big meeting and were quite cheerful and almost oblivious to the conditions around them. An amazing thing indeed.
The purpose of our meeting with the Archbishop was that of begining a relationship. Jon Sentamu recently agreed to be a patron of the organization Time for God and we were there to describe what the organization was all about and how he could help us. Archbishop Sentamu is an inspirational character who originally comes from Uganda. His passion for political stability on the African continent rings throughout his whole being and is best exampled by his refusal to wear a preist collar until there is peace within the currently politcal unstable country of Zimbabwe.
He was extremely down to earth and welcomed us all with a wonderful spirit to the Archbishop's Palace in York. What was most intriguing about his character and presence was his "no fluff" tone of speach. Every word he said meant somthing and it turned out that he spoke relativley little throughout the entire meeting. It inspired me to see how such a well known leader could talk so little. After the meeting, Claire (the other volunteer who was invited to come and who ironically was also from Uganda) and I braved the conditions and made it to York Minster before our trains departed. After the noise and cold weather outside, it was nice again to come into a space of such peace and tranquility. I now am back in London again inspired by the Archbishop to be ever more of a listener. I think it is somthing all of us could learn.
From left to right: John (Chair of the Time for God Board of Trustees), Archbishop of York John Sentamu, me, Claire (another Time for God Volunteer), David (CEO of Time for God).
Friday, January 25, 2008
Gracious Lord, Grant me Serenity
The month of January has been a month of fantastic high points and tragic low points. As I have passed the five month marker of being in London, I now come to a cross roads in my time here. I can either continue to involve myself within my parish and the commmunity around me, or decide to concern myself with other things and be present in places that don't really apply to my experiences here. It becomes a cross road that doesn't mark itself clearly and is defined by more of the gray than the black and white, though it clearly has an impact on my life.
I went to a Time For God Conference in Wales last week with 120 other volunteers placed all over the UK. It was a wonderful experience to feel the diversity of culture and expression within the group of people. We had a lot of time to sit and talk with one another and about our placements. We shared stories of struggle and stories of hope. I met many people who seemed to be still in the "game" but who have become tired and unhappy. They, thus, have taken a stance of "there's no real hope left for things to get better" and were ready to "plow through" the rest of the year. The reasons for many of the volunteers feeling this way varied with not having a good living situation, being upset with their boss, not connecting with various people at their placement, or just not being sure of where to go from here.
I, too, have slipped into this mindset at times. Father Nicholas is leaving the parish for a missionary priest position in Brazil in exactly a month which leaves many holes in the staff of the St. Pancras Team. Things continue to become more unpredictable as issues with money, people, and time arise at the begining of this interim period. It becomes more of a thought process in "how can we get this done" verses "how well can we do this ministry". My future beyond London now has also shown itself in a real way. I am now tackling the big question of "What am I going to do when I get back to the United States?" Nothing seems clear as issues with re-entry time, school, relationship, and future ambitions all make the future of "coming home" complicated. It all seems at times that I am going through life without much of any control over anything.
This element was hit home for me when witnessing my first street mugging. I was biking to the local market when all of sudden, I heard a voice calling "Help! Help!". As I rode closer down the road, I saw three young guys attack the man yelling and rip him to the ground. They then started to repeatidly punch and kick him right in the middle of the street. I immediatly turned around, grabbed my mobile phone, and called the police. Minutes later, the attackers fled and left an eery silience with a wounded body laying in the middle of the street. The police arrived with an ambulance and carried the victim away. I still don't know if the man survived or even what had caused the attack. From talking with local parishoners who live in the area, many are convinced that it was drug related. "One of the many reminders we have of the huge problems of gangs and street drugs here", a resident said to me.
A little while ago, I was doing some work in my room when an emotional Owen (the other pastoral assistant) knocked on the door. He told me that Francis, an 84 year old man who had dedicated his life to various functions in our church died at his home. Owen, in fact, was the first one to hear the news as the police who discovered the body finally came to the church because they could find no reference to any other family member. "That just explains how much the church was actually the only family left for him", Owen explained. Owen and I both remember fondly the first time we met Francis- an old, bent over man with a cane, a thick Cockney acsent, and an incredible spirit. He came up to both of us new pastoral assistants, gave us both a huge hug and kiss on the top of our heads and exlaimed, " The Fathers told me that you were coming and to take care of you! So that is what I am going to do!" Throughout this time, Francis has taken care of both of us in many ways. The loss of Francis will reverberate throughout all of our four churches this week. We all will miss him greatly.
I just couldn't believe it. These experiences seemed to pound into me the whole unpredictability of life in a real way. I began to be angry for a time exclaiming, "Why God? Why are things in my life seeming so much out of my control?" It felt like I couldn't do anything that didn't have an unforseeable consequence to it.
I then payed a visit to an 86 year old woman of St. Paul's Church named Chris. Chris has fallen into old age quite quickly this past year as her ostioparosis and arthritst have recently dictated that she no longer walk. Though stuck with a tired body, Chris's mind and spirit continue to be as sharp as a tack. As we talked in her flat by her chair that she sits in almost all day, she asked me "Young man, What is going on your life?" I immediatly replied that things were going well and that I was having a good time being in London. A look of disaproval came over her face like I had told a big, fat, lie. Thus, I began to tell her how I have been struggling with the feeling of not having any control in my life and the unfairness of it all. She looked at me keenly for a minute. "You want to know somthing?", she said. "The last time I was in hospital they told me that I had cancer. And so I told all of my friends and family that this horrible disease was infecting my body. Three days later, I was told that my file had gotten switched with another person's file and that I actually had a bad case of arthritist which I knew all along! Is that unpredictability or what?!" "Let me show you somthing!", she exclaimed. She then began to dig around in her pile of books next to the chair and pulled out an old, tatty, black book. She opened it to reveal pictures, letters, and old newspaper clippings. "This is my scrap book", she explained. She furiously flipped through the pages until her face gleamed with a smile. "Ah! Here it is!", she said pointing to a ripped up piece of paper. I took the book and looked at the faded words. It said:
Gracious Lord, Grant me serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things that I can change,
and wisdom to know the difference.
Amen
"You gotta cling on to that faith", she said. I stared at the prayer for the longest time. It seemed to knock me over! Chris was right, life is incredibly unpredictable and can be very challenging at times. We can get so frustrated by this fear, that we try to shut things out and just grunt through the time that we have left. Ironically, this is the time where it seems that we must be the most open and patient. We must be continuing to understand the things we can change, but "clinging to the faith and hope" with those things we can't change. May God grant us that courage and wisdom in this world of uncertainty and continue to love us through our struggles.
I went to a Time For God Conference in Wales last week with 120 other volunteers placed all over the UK. It was a wonderful experience to feel the diversity of culture and expression within the group of people. We had a lot of time to sit and talk with one another and about our placements. We shared stories of struggle and stories of hope. I met many people who seemed to be still in the "game" but who have become tired and unhappy. They, thus, have taken a stance of "there's no real hope left for things to get better" and were ready to "plow through" the rest of the year. The reasons for many of the volunteers feeling this way varied with not having a good living situation, being upset with their boss, not connecting with various people at their placement, or just not being sure of where to go from here.
I, too, have slipped into this mindset at times. Father Nicholas is leaving the parish for a missionary priest position in Brazil in exactly a month which leaves many holes in the staff of the St. Pancras Team. Things continue to become more unpredictable as issues with money, people, and time arise at the begining of this interim period. It becomes more of a thought process in "how can we get this done" verses "how well can we do this ministry". My future beyond London now has also shown itself in a real way. I am now tackling the big question of "What am I going to do when I get back to the United States?" Nothing seems clear as issues with re-entry time, school, relationship, and future ambitions all make the future of "coming home" complicated. It all seems at times that I am going through life without much of any control over anything.
This element was hit home for me when witnessing my first street mugging. I was biking to the local market when all of sudden, I heard a voice calling "Help! Help!". As I rode closer down the road, I saw three young guys attack the man yelling and rip him to the ground. They then started to repeatidly punch and kick him right in the middle of the street. I immediatly turned around, grabbed my mobile phone, and called the police. Minutes later, the attackers fled and left an eery silience with a wounded body laying in the middle of the street. The police arrived with an ambulance and carried the victim away. I still don't know if the man survived or even what had caused the attack. From talking with local parishoners who live in the area, many are convinced that it was drug related. "One of the many reminders we have of the huge problems of gangs and street drugs here", a resident said to me.
A little while ago, I was doing some work in my room when an emotional Owen (the other pastoral assistant) knocked on the door. He told me that Francis, an 84 year old man who had dedicated his life to various functions in our church died at his home. Owen, in fact, was the first one to hear the news as the police who discovered the body finally came to the church because they could find no reference to any other family member. "That just explains how much the church was actually the only family left for him", Owen explained. Owen and I both remember fondly the first time we met Francis- an old, bent over man with a cane, a thick Cockney acsent, and an incredible spirit. He came up to both of us new pastoral assistants, gave us both a huge hug and kiss on the top of our heads and exlaimed, " The Fathers told me that you were coming and to take care of you! So that is what I am going to do!" Throughout this time, Francis has taken care of both of us in many ways. The loss of Francis will reverberate throughout all of our four churches this week. We all will miss him greatly.
I just couldn't believe it. These experiences seemed to pound into me the whole unpredictability of life in a real way. I began to be angry for a time exclaiming, "Why God? Why are things in my life seeming so much out of my control?" It felt like I couldn't do anything that didn't have an unforseeable consequence to it.
I then payed a visit to an 86 year old woman of St. Paul's Church named Chris. Chris has fallen into old age quite quickly this past year as her ostioparosis and arthritst have recently dictated that she no longer walk. Though stuck with a tired body, Chris's mind and spirit continue to be as sharp as a tack. As we talked in her flat by her chair that she sits in almost all day, she asked me "Young man, What is going on your life?" I immediatly replied that things were going well and that I was having a good time being in London. A look of disaproval came over her face like I had told a big, fat, lie. Thus, I began to tell her how I have been struggling with the feeling of not having any control in my life and the unfairness of it all. She looked at me keenly for a minute. "You want to know somthing?", she said. "The last time I was in hospital they told me that I had cancer. And so I told all of my friends and family that this horrible disease was infecting my body. Three days later, I was told that my file had gotten switched with another person's file and that I actually had a bad case of arthritist which I knew all along! Is that unpredictability or what?!" "Let me show you somthing!", she exclaimed. She then began to dig around in her pile of books next to the chair and pulled out an old, tatty, black book. She opened it to reveal pictures, letters, and old newspaper clippings. "This is my scrap book", she explained. She furiously flipped through the pages until her face gleamed with a smile. "Ah! Here it is!", she said pointing to a ripped up piece of paper. I took the book and looked at the faded words. It said:
Gracious Lord, Grant me serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things that I can change,
and wisdom to know the difference.
Amen
"You gotta cling on to that faith", she said. I stared at the prayer for the longest time. It seemed to knock me over! Chris was right, life is incredibly unpredictable and can be very challenging at times. We can get so frustrated by this fear, that we try to shut things out and just grunt through the time that we have left. Ironically, this is the time where it seems that we must be the most open and patient. We must be continuing to understand the things we can change, but "clinging to the faith and hope" with those things we can't change. May God grant us that courage and wisdom in this world of uncertainty and continue to love us through our struggles.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Dashing through the Snow
It has been almost five months that I have been working in the UK. In this period I have not yet had a solid amount of time off. This, however, changed last week as my friend Maren and I went on holiday together to the snowy slopes of Austria.
Our first three nights were spent in the town of Feldkirch just a little ways from the German-Austrian border. We stayed in a hostel that was originally built in the 1200's and was used as the primary hostel for people with disease and the Black Plague (in the 14th century). Although the history of the building is not one of roses and rainbows, it was a wonderful place to stay with a lot of character that one should expect from a building of such age. It was also filled with some very interesting people whom Maren and I both had the chance to meet.
One person inparticular whom we met the first night we were in Feldkirch was named Mike. Mike was about our age and was originally from Vienna, Austria. He described himself as origianlly an athiest, but had an "enlightenment" (as he said) acouple years ago with faith. He was in the midst of a pilgrimage from Vienna to Portugal and was very interested in both Maren and my work in England. Due to his relatively broken English, it was hard to communicate fully with him and I wasn't able to ask him more questions on his own faith journey. However, we still were able to exchange a wonderful assortment of laughs and stories of our experiences thus far. Mike remained with us for much of the next day as we explored together the sites and sounds of Feldkirch. After our wonderful day exploring, Mike wished us well and hopped on a train heading west not knowing exactly where he was going to end up that night. I admired his "off-the-cuff" spirit and openess to knew things. His friendly smile and choice of living his faith through travel and adventure really struck me and warmed my heart. I wish Mike well and God's love in the rest of his travels.
After our few days in Feldkirch, we headed up into the mountains by train to the ski village of St. Anton. The village was somthing from a movie with spectacular Austrian archetecture, incredible mountians, and 4ft of snow! We met James, the cousin to Maren's Host Father, who showed us around and made sure that we were settled in with everything. James is a chef who works at one of the restaraunts at the top of Galzig Peak (one of the many in the resort). He is orginally from Belfast, Northern Ireland and came to St. Anton four years ago knowing almost no German. In that time, he not only has made a home here with his girlfriend, but has really become accepted by the local people.
Like a true Irishman, James started a tradition of having drinks with anyone who wanted to join after his long day of work. Thus, almost every day after the restaraunt closes up, all the employees ride the cable car down to the village. They then all then gather together at one local bar (or "lokal" as the Austrians call it) for a time of drinks and laughs. I was invited to acouple of these events and was amazed at the spirit of the place. I met many new people who all greeted me whether they spoke English or not. It was truly a community that was proud of their surroundings and welcomed anyone to participate in this sense of pride.
Bernard, another chef who works with James, was learning English and was excited to talk with someone who had another accent. He was a very solid, dark bearded man from a little village south of Vienna. "I have always wanted to go to America!", he exclaimed to me. "I just can't get those papers." James later told me that it is very hard for Austrians to get work Visas in the United States because of recent immigration laws after September 11th. "It saddens me to see that good people like these Austrians are outrightly denyed acess to your country", James said. For the first time in my life, I was struck with the hierarchy of citizenship. Here I was with a blue passport that somehow allowed me to go somewhere where others weren't allowed to go. I never chose to be an American citizen, but was born into it. Others don't have that luxury. It is people like Bernard that make me wonder why this has to be.
And so I am now back in London and getting ready for work tomorrow. It was fantastic to be in the snow and I feel very rejuvinated. After witnessing the spirit on holiday, it is now time to continue to observe the spirit of London.
Our first three nights were spent in the town of Feldkirch just a little ways from the German-Austrian border. We stayed in a hostel that was originally built in the 1200's and was used as the primary hostel for people with disease and the Black Plague (in the 14th century). Although the history of the building is not one of roses and rainbows, it was a wonderful place to stay with a lot of character that one should expect from a building of such age. It was also filled with some very interesting people whom Maren and I both had the chance to meet.
One person inparticular whom we met the first night we were in Feldkirch was named Mike. Mike was about our age and was originally from Vienna, Austria. He described himself as origianlly an athiest, but had an "enlightenment" (as he said) acouple years ago with faith. He was in the midst of a pilgrimage from Vienna to Portugal and was very interested in both Maren and my work in England. Due to his relatively broken English, it was hard to communicate fully with him and I wasn't able to ask him more questions on his own faith journey. However, we still were able to exchange a wonderful assortment of laughs and stories of our experiences thus far. Mike remained with us for much of the next day as we explored together the sites and sounds of Feldkirch. After our wonderful day exploring, Mike wished us well and hopped on a train heading west not knowing exactly where he was going to end up that night. I admired his "off-the-cuff" spirit and openess to knew things. His friendly smile and choice of living his faith through travel and adventure really struck me and warmed my heart. I wish Mike well and God's love in the rest of his travels.
After our few days in Feldkirch, we headed up into the mountains by train to the ski village of St. Anton. The village was somthing from a movie with spectacular Austrian archetecture, incredible mountians, and 4ft of snow! We met James, the cousin to Maren's Host Father, who showed us around and made sure that we were settled in with everything. James is a chef who works at one of the restaraunts at the top of Galzig Peak (one of the many in the resort). He is orginally from Belfast, Northern Ireland and came to St. Anton four years ago knowing almost no German. In that time, he not only has made a home here with his girlfriend, but has really become accepted by the local people.
Like a true Irishman, James started a tradition of having drinks with anyone who wanted to join after his long day of work. Thus, almost every day after the restaraunt closes up, all the employees ride the cable car down to the village. They then all then gather together at one local bar (or "lokal" as the Austrians call it) for a time of drinks and laughs. I was invited to acouple of these events and was amazed at the spirit of the place. I met many new people who all greeted me whether they spoke English or not. It was truly a community that was proud of their surroundings and welcomed anyone to participate in this sense of pride.
Bernard, another chef who works with James, was learning English and was excited to talk with someone who had another accent. He was a very solid, dark bearded man from a little village south of Vienna. "I have always wanted to go to America!", he exclaimed to me. "I just can't get those papers." James later told me that it is very hard for Austrians to get work Visas in the United States because of recent immigration laws after September 11th. "It saddens me to see that good people like these Austrians are outrightly denyed acess to your country", James said. For the first time in my life, I was struck with the hierarchy of citizenship. Here I was with a blue passport that somehow allowed me to go somewhere where others weren't allowed to go. I never chose to be an American citizen, but was born into it. Others don't have that luxury. It is people like Bernard that make me wonder why this has to be.
And so I am now back in London and getting ready for work tomorrow. It was fantastic to be in the snow and I feel very rejuvinated. After witnessing the spirit on holiday, it is now time to continue to observe the spirit of London.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
The Christmas Spirit of London
The holiday season in London has been one of mixed emotions for me. It is my first Christmas away from home which is always a hard thing to get used to. I catch myself a lot thinking about "what my family and friends must being doing right now" and day-dreaming of the Sweedish meatballs, St. Olaf Christmas music, and lutifisk that are staples in my family's holiday tradition. I have come to realize that one cannot fully appreciate and cherish the holiday traditions of their family until they come into a situation where those elements are no longer the norm. I have given up trying to explain the "concept" of lefsa to the English. They simply can't percieve how somthing so sweet can go with the main meal and try to serve it as a desert. How do you get yourself to laugh on Christmas? Try getting a proper Englishman to roll a piece of lefsa at the dinner table. I promise you will be laughing for hours!
In an attempt to get myself out of the "feeling sorry for myself because I am not at home for Christmas" mood, I have specifically been looking for new traditions that the English in London cherish in their Christmas Holiday. Firstly, I have discovered the interesting cake thing called a "Mince Pie" that is the bread and butter of any English Christmas meal. English grocery chains such as Sainsbury's and Morrison's PACK their shelves with these little pies and one couldn't get away from them even if they tried. I have eaten Mince Pies at church, on the street, at school, in people's homes, before concerts, after concerts, and even for desert AFTER desert. Yes, Mince Pies are taking over Great Britian. I have yet to find out about the joys of Christmas pudding, however. Many Londoners, I have come to observe, make a huge fuss about WHEN to serve the Christmas pudding, namely BEFORE or AFTER the Queen's address. Thus far, in my official count, families who serve their pudding after the Queen's address are out numbering families who serve it before. Although, this carefully orchestrated study has yet to be completed. I will let you know the results once they become available.
The final thing that I have come to observe about Londoners and how they celebrate Christmas is their absolute fascination with Christmas caroling. I think I should open up a business on the side called "Eric's Christmas Caroling Shop". In it, I would just hire singers to sing Christmas songs for people to stop by and listen. I would make more money than Bill Gates! Lou, one of our parishoners, works at a Youth Drop-in Center in a section of Camden called Somers Town. She takes some of their clients out and goes Christmas caroling as a fundraiser for their yearly activities budget. After one afternoon of caroling, they came back with two thousand pounds ($4,100)! The church gets into the caroling spirit as well by allowing various groups to come in and have "special carol services". One of the funniest things I have seen in a long time was watching Father Nicholas try and lead 150 railway workers in a carol service. It was a sight to see!
I have also been involved with this caroling frenzy as I have been taking my 35 kids in the St. Michael's Primary School Gospel Choir to different places around London and singing Christmas favorites. I got the chance to direct these kids in the great lobby of the British Museum which was incredible! I will never forget some of the children's faces as they sang. These kids have had an enormous impact on me in how they project the Christmas spirit. Although about 20 of the 35 children are Muslim, they still convey joy and warmth in a remarkable way. It continues to remind me how much the Christmas spirit unites us on many fronts.
In a city where community can be hard to find, there is somthing about this time that changes the way everyone lives and works here. Perhaps it can best be described in my experience with an elderly man as I was tromping up Camden Road with a Christmas tree for St. Paul's Church on my shoulder. The man (who spoke very little English) turned his head to me and gave me a big smile. "Merry Christmas to You!", he said. I turned, smiled back, and also wished him a merry Christmas. For only these few days, Londoners seem to actually be "looking up" and smiling at each other. People are stepping a little out of their boundaries and actually acknowledging others' presence as they smile to each other. This to me is a powerful example of the joy of Christmas. May you, this season, be able to see how this spirit influences both yourself and your surrounding community. Merry Christmas!
In an attempt to get myself out of the "feeling sorry for myself because I am not at home for Christmas" mood, I have specifically been looking for new traditions that the English in London cherish in their Christmas Holiday. Firstly, I have discovered the interesting cake thing called a "Mince Pie" that is the bread and butter of any English Christmas meal. English grocery chains such as Sainsbury's and Morrison's PACK their shelves with these little pies and one couldn't get away from them even if they tried. I have eaten Mince Pies at church, on the street, at school, in people's homes, before concerts, after concerts, and even for desert AFTER desert. Yes, Mince Pies are taking over Great Britian. I have yet to find out about the joys of Christmas pudding, however. Many Londoners, I have come to observe, make a huge fuss about WHEN to serve the Christmas pudding, namely BEFORE or AFTER the Queen's address. Thus far, in my official count, families who serve their pudding after the Queen's address are out numbering families who serve it before. Although, this carefully orchestrated study has yet to be completed. I will let you know the results once they become available.
The final thing that I have come to observe about Londoners and how they celebrate Christmas is their absolute fascination with Christmas caroling. I think I should open up a business on the side called "Eric's Christmas Caroling Shop". In it, I would just hire singers to sing Christmas songs for people to stop by and listen. I would make more money than Bill Gates! Lou, one of our parishoners, works at a Youth Drop-in Center in a section of Camden called Somers Town. She takes some of their clients out and goes Christmas caroling as a fundraiser for their yearly activities budget. After one afternoon of caroling, they came back with two thousand pounds ($4,100)! The church gets into the caroling spirit as well by allowing various groups to come in and have "special carol services". One of the funniest things I have seen in a long time was watching Father Nicholas try and lead 150 railway workers in a carol service. It was a sight to see!
I have also been involved with this caroling frenzy as I have been taking my 35 kids in the St. Michael's Primary School Gospel Choir to different places around London and singing Christmas favorites. I got the chance to direct these kids in the great lobby of the British Museum which was incredible! I will never forget some of the children's faces as they sang. These kids have had an enormous impact on me in how they project the Christmas spirit. Although about 20 of the 35 children are Muslim, they still convey joy and warmth in a remarkable way. It continues to remind me how much the Christmas spirit unites us on many fronts.
In a city where community can be hard to find, there is somthing about this time that changes the way everyone lives and works here. Perhaps it can best be described in my experience with an elderly man as I was tromping up Camden Road with a Christmas tree for St. Paul's Church on my shoulder. The man (who spoke very little English) turned his head to me and gave me a big smile. "Merry Christmas to You!", he said. I turned, smiled back, and also wished him a merry Christmas. For only these few days, Londoners seem to actually be "looking up" and smiling at each other. People are stepping a little out of their boundaries and actually acknowledging others' presence as they smile to each other. This to me is a powerful example of the joy of Christmas. May you, this season, be able to see how this spirit influences both yourself and your surrounding community. Merry Christmas!
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Christingle and the French
This past week has been very exciting as it marked the begining of a new relationship with the Parish of St. Pancras in Camden Town and the Parish of St. Vincent de Paul in Paris. This church relationship started about 10 years ago when it was announced that Eurostar would build a high-speed rail line from London to Paris and use the St. Pancras Railway Station as it's staging point. On Tuesday, 10 parishoners from St. Vincent de Paul traveled from Paris to London in 2 hours and 4 minutes on this brand new Eurostar line. They were greeted by a group of parishoners from St. Pancras and Father Nicholas extending a welcoming smile and handshake. What an exciting moment!
We packed a full day in with our French guests. I had the privliage of taking them to St. Michael's Primary School during a school assembly. The kids had learned simple French greetings and were very enthusiastic about talking in French. One of the French parishoners was a primary school teacher in Paris and was overjoyed to see all the kids so excited about learning French! The priest from St. Vincent de Paul knew very little English, but communicated very well with the kids in funny facial expressions and with another person translating. We then took the group of visitors to the St. Pancras Hospital where Owen and Father Malcolm explained the hospital chaplaincy ministry that our congregation does. The hospital even allowed our group to enter one of the Psychological wards where we talked with different patients. I think it was a very big eye opener for our parish friends.
The two congreations are remarkably similar. They both equal around 300 worshipers and are very urban parishes. They are both struggling with how to combat homelessness in their local communities and are committed to alchohol and drug prevention ministries. Both parishes are also struggling with the continuing preasure of secularism and dwindling resources. All of these things draw the two churches together in a very intimate way. What an incredible experience it was to listen to the sharing of joy, challenge, and hope these people shared with one another.
The evening ended with a service of thanksgiving that was both in English as well as French. The CEO of Eurostar, Bishop of Edmonton, Mayor of Camden, rail workers, and parishoners all packed Old St. Pancras Church for the event. In a tremendous gesture of unification, the Catholic preist of St. Vincent de Paul even shared the Eucharist (against normal Catholic doctrine) with his fellow Church of England counterparts. All of this touched me, but, perhaps the most remarkable image I will take away from the evening was when the two parishes gathered around their preists on either side of the sanctuary in a blessing. The two priests said prayer intersessions together- each in their respective languages with the bishop blessing them at the end. Finally, after concluding with the Lord's Prayer, the two priests happily shook hands and exchanged gifts. There was then an instant roar of enthusiasim and parishoners from the two sides immediatley came together in a wash of laughter, handshakes, and greetings. It was a night when two cultures that have historically been seperated by geographical, political, and economic barriers came together in a spirit of hope for the future. What an incredible privilage it was to be a part of such an event.
While the French were busy touring the sites of Camden, Father Nicholas was called away to do a Christingle celebration with the kids of St. Mary's Primary School (which is connected with St. Mary's Church, one of the churches in the St. Pancras Parish). Since Owen, who is based at St. Mary's, was tied up with other things Father Nicholas asked me to come along and be "moral support". "You won't have to do a thing", he said. "Just come and watch." I then accompanied him to St. Mary's where I sat down in a pew and waited for the service to start.
For those of you who aren't familar with a Christingle, I can fill you in. A Christingle is a little decoration, stemming from the Moravian tradition, that comprises of an orange, a candle, a red ribbon, and four jelly beans with toothpicks. The candle is placed in the orange which represents Jesus being the light (candle) of the world (orange). Four jelly beans on toothpicks are poked on opposite sides of the orange symbolizing the four seasons and the "fruit of the earth". Finally, the red ribbon is wrapped around the entire orange symbolizing Christ's love for the world. The making of Christingles is always done with children during the season of advent to celebrate and anticipate the coming of Christmas (the birth of Jesus- the light of the world). Many church schools in England still celebrate this tradition and have Christingle festivals.
The Christingle festival at St. Mary's, I could see, was not seen as "old fashioned" at all and was becoming packed with people. Ten minutes before the service began, Nicholas motioned for me to come into the sacristy. He was absolutley beside himself. Communication had broken down between him and the school officials. Nicholas was expecting the School Headmistress to hand him a planned order of worship. Instead, she handed him a sheet of paper with three bullet points:
1. Tell Christmas Story. Factor in carols we have been practicing (a list of about 15 carols) throughout the story as appropiate. Make sure ALL carols are sung.
2. Tell what a Christingle is
3. Blessing
I have never seen Father Nicholas so beside himself- he was even shaking! He tried to sketch out a plan of how he was going to tell the Christmas story with all the carols but just couldn't seem to draw things together. With two minutes left before the service began, I finally decided that I could come up with somthing. We quickly agreed that he would do the begining and end parts and I would be in charge of telling the Christmas story. I quickly scanned the list of carols the teachers wanted to sing, came up with a rough structure in my head, drank a quick glass of water, and said to myself "God help me!" I then headed out infront of 400 people (300 children) and told somthing that resembled the Christmas story. I don't think I have ever been so pumped up on adrenaline in my life.
To my surprise, the service actually went quite well. Afterwards, Father Nicholas turned to me and said, "Well, maybe we should take our act out on the road!" This moment was certainly a time where I learned confidence in myself. I have been thrown into situations that have needed to be solved with "on the fly" solutions before, but never one this huge. One can never be fully prepared in this line of work. You always have to be willing to put yourself out there, even when you don't feel you have it all together. God does, I have learned, appear in unexpected places. Especially in this instances such as this one, I have gained appreciation for him never giving up on me.
We packed a full day in with our French guests. I had the privliage of taking them to St. Michael's Primary School during a school assembly. The kids had learned simple French greetings and were very enthusiastic about talking in French. One of the French parishoners was a primary school teacher in Paris and was overjoyed to see all the kids so excited about learning French! The priest from St. Vincent de Paul knew very little English, but communicated very well with the kids in funny facial expressions and with another person translating. We then took the group of visitors to the St. Pancras Hospital where Owen and Father Malcolm explained the hospital chaplaincy ministry that our congregation does. The hospital even allowed our group to enter one of the Psychological wards where we talked with different patients. I think it was a very big eye opener for our parish friends.
The two congreations are remarkably similar. They both equal around 300 worshipers and are very urban parishes. They are both struggling with how to combat homelessness in their local communities and are committed to alchohol and drug prevention ministries. Both parishes are also struggling with the continuing preasure of secularism and dwindling resources. All of these things draw the two churches together in a very intimate way. What an incredible experience it was to listen to the sharing of joy, challenge, and hope these people shared with one another.
The evening ended with a service of thanksgiving that was both in English as well as French. The CEO of Eurostar, Bishop of Edmonton, Mayor of Camden, rail workers, and parishoners all packed Old St. Pancras Church for the event. In a tremendous gesture of unification, the Catholic preist of St. Vincent de Paul even shared the Eucharist (against normal Catholic doctrine) with his fellow Church of England counterparts. All of this touched me, but, perhaps the most remarkable image I will take away from the evening was when the two parishes gathered around their preists on either side of the sanctuary in a blessing. The two priests said prayer intersessions together- each in their respective languages with the bishop blessing them at the end. Finally, after concluding with the Lord's Prayer, the two priests happily shook hands and exchanged gifts. There was then an instant roar of enthusiasim and parishoners from the two sides immediatley came together in a wash of laughter, handshakes, and greetings. It was a night when two cultures that have historically been seperated by geographical, political, and economic barriers came together in a spirit of hope for the future. What an incredible privilage it was to be a part of such an event.
While the French were busy touring the sites of Camden, Father Nicholas was called away to do a Christingle celebration with the kids of St. Mary's Primary School (which is connected with St. Mary's Church, one of the churches in the St. Pancras Parish). Since Owen, who is based at St. Mary's, was tied up with other things Father Nicholas asked me to come along and be "moral support". "You won't have to do a thing", he said. "Just come and watch." I then accompanied him to St. Mary's where I sat down in a pew and waited for the service to start.
For those of you who aren't familar with a Christingle, I can fill you in. A Christingle is a little decoration, stemming from the Moravian tradition, that comprises of an orange, a candle, a red ribbon, and four jelly beans with toothpicks. The candle is placed in the orange which represents Jesus being the light (candle) of the world (orange). Four jelly beans on toothpicks are poked on opposite sides of the orange symbolizing the four seasons and the "fruit of the earth". Finally, the red ribbon is wrapped around the entire orange symbolizing Christ's love for the world. The making of Christingles is always done with children during the season of advent to celebrate and anticipate the coming of Christmas (the birth of Jesus- the light of the world). Many church schools in England still celebrate this tradition and have Christingle festivals.
The Christingle festival at St. Mary's, I could see, was not seen as "old fashioned" at all and was becoming packed with people. Ten minutes before the service began, Nicholas motioned for me to come into the sacristy. He was absolutley beside himself. Communication had broken down between him and the school officials. Nicholas was expecting the School Headmistress to hand him a planned order of worship. Instead, she handed him a sheet of paper with three bullet points:
1. Tell Christmas Story. Factor in carols we have been practicing (a list of about 15 carols) throughout the story as appropiate. Make sure ALL carols are sung.
2. Tell what a Christingle is
3. Blessing
I have never seen Father Nicholas so beside himself- he was even shaking! He tried to sketch out a plan of how he was going to tell the Christmas story with all the carols but just couldn't seem to draw things together. With two minutes left before the service began, I finally decided that I could come up with somthing. We quickly agreed that he would do the begining and end parts and I would be in charge of telling the Christmas story. I quickly scanned the list of carols the teachers wanted to sing, came up with a rough structure in my head, drank a quick glass of water, and said to myself "God help me!" I then headed out infront of 400 people (300 children) and told somthing that resembled the Christmas story. I don't think I have ever been so pumped up on adrenaline in my life.
To my surprise, the service actually went quite well. Afterwards, Father Nicholas turned to me and said, "Well, maybe we should take our act out on the road!" This moment was certainly a time where I learned confidence in myself. I have been thrown into situations that have needed to be solved with "on the fly" solutions before, but never one this huge. One can never be fully prepared in this line of work. You always have to be willing to put yourself out there, even when you don't feel you have it all together. God does, I have learned, appear in unexpected places. Especially in this instances such as this one, I have gained appreciation for him never giving up on me.
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