No pictures today. The batteries in the camera died.
But what a last day. This morning we met another new friend. Venci Stoikov is the pastor at a Church of God congregation in Sofia. He's a friend of our new friend Jimmy Luchev from Stara Zagora and we hit it off immediately.
Venci drove us back to Samokov, to the Gypsy church we had visited last week. Pastor Sacho invited us to attend worship and he is a persuasive enough guy that we couldn't say no. And, being as this is Bulgaria, no visiting pastors get away without preaching.
Venci filled us in on the challenges and rewards of ministry in Roma communities. Evangelical Protestant churches are about the only groups in Bulgaria that treat Gypsies with respect, so they tend to respond really positively to them. But there are deeply rooted traditions of fear and superstition, along with generations of nomadic wandering make it really difficult to develop long-term commitments. However, he said, guys like Sacho are doing amazing work in developing their congregations.
There were about 150 at church. To our surprise, women sit on one side and men on the other. But we both joined Sacho's wife Reni on the ladies' side. One thing we have discovered -- that the concept of a woman being the leader of a congregation and of a clergy couple serving different churches is totally off the radar screen for people in this part of the world. Women's leadership is in its very early stages.
However, they graciously received messages from both of us and seemed genuinely honoured that we had come among them.
This afternoon, we met one of the most interesting guys that we've encountered on our entire trip. Hristo Berisov is an Orthodox priest who is one of the leaders in a movement trying to bring together Orthodox, Roman Catholic and Protestant Christians in one fellowship. Their efforts are rooted in the pre-Constantinian reality of the church in which local autonomy and diversity were common. Hristo argues that the official Orthodox Church in Bulgaria is not so much Orthodox as Byzantine in character. The Byzantine vision of the church was one of the church as Kingdom of God on earth, demanding uniformity over local context. Hristo's English was shaky and he brought a translator who was not all that effective. But his movement, the Christian and Ecumenical Apostolic Church, has a website, http://www.ceacbg.com/, which we're going to check out when we get home. And Jimmy Luchev will fill us in further.
This evening, we went to Crossroads, Venci Stoikov's church. Great music, passionate prayer, a lengthy but really thoughtful sermon by one of the young guys in the church, and, of course, obligatory greetings from two visitors from Canada. What we really appreciated is that they have headsets with simultaneous translation. Krasi Rafailov, a lawyer, who speaks excellent English, spoke the translation into a microphone which we received in our own personal earphone. Wow.
In my remarks, I commented on how we had arrived in all of these places, welcomed by people we had never met before, who took us into their homes, their churches and their hearts as if we had been long-time friends. Of course, we are friends -- friends in Christ who creates community among those who know him.
The Morning Office from the Northumbria Community closes with this blessing:
May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you
Wherever He may send you;
May He guide you through the wilderness,
Protect you through the storm;
May He bring you home rejoicing
At the wonders He has shown you;
May He bring you home rejoicing
Once again into our doors.
Those are the words that are in my mind as we wrap up this incredible trip.
It's 9:15 p.m. in Sofia. We leave for the airport at 5:15 a.m. and by this time tomorrow night, God willing, we will be "making our final approach" to Pearson Airport. Should you read this posting before that time, please pray for safe travel.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Faraway Family
Al and Diane Mellinger are American missionaries living in Petrich, Bulgaria, a city of about 14,000 people just a few kilometres from the Greek border. They are helping to develop local leadership in Bulgarian churches which often struggle because they are so young and inexperienced.
On Thursday evening, Al and his translator Peggy took us on a hair-raising trip through the mountains to the town of Gotse Delchev. I didn't bother to take any pictures, first because it was hard to stop on the winding road, but also because I knew my camera wouldn't do justice to what I was seeing. But it was nothing short of breath-taking. Here's a picture of a mountain that looks like where we were, that I lifted off the internet.
Gotse Delchev is a typical small Bulgarian town with the tile-roofed houses and apartment blocks that you see all over Bulgaria. And like most of those towns, it has an area consisting of rambling houses, existing in a kind of shadow land on the fringes of legality and modern services like proper roads. We parked the car and walked up a steep hill to a house where a Turkish speaking congregation meets. We were met by a group of young and astonishingly good looking young men, including Andrej, the pastor, who looks more like a member of the youth group.
Andrej was the youth leader at another church but became disillusioned by controlling leadership, so decided to start a new church with some of his kids. Those who gathered to talk to us in the late afternoon were all young men in their 20s. They were very soft-spoken as they described the peace and joy that they have found in Christ. Being Turkish, most of the people in the community are nominally Muslim, but in practice are nothing. Everyone in the community knows each other, but the church has given them a sense of purpose and togetherness that is new for them.
Employment is always a problem. A few are fortunate enough to work locally, but most travel to Greece to work in agriculture or the garment industry. Greece is the prosperous neighbor just over the hills. A lot of businesses in southern Bulgaria carry merchandise that Bulgarians can't afford. Greeks come over the border in droves to take advantage of cheap prices. But there was a sense of pride and hope that we had not sensed in some of the other communities we had visited.
Their meeting place is the first floor of a house owned by Sergei and his wife. Diane and I both had to use the washroom and Sergei, who really speaks no English at all, took great pride in showing us his lovely home.
They meet for prayer and worship on Thursday nights as well as Sundays. The young guys who were there were the music leaders. They sang songs in Turkish that had that slightly melancholy timbre that one associates with Middle Eastern music. It was a nice change from American praise and worship songs. I wish we could get young guys at home to sing like them!
The room where we met has room for about 40-50 and by the time the service started at 7 p.m. it was full. Everyone who came in recognized us as newcomers and greeted us with the words (in Bulgarian) "Praise God." It was genuine and unfeigned hospitality.
We have now realized that guests -- especially guest pastors -- can't get away without speaking. So we were both ready with a short message. Peggy (who is awesome!) translated into Bulgarian. Even though their first language is Turkish, everybody speaks both. I spoke about 1 Corinthians 13 because we were told that one of their songs was based on that text. I said that even though we don't speak either Turkish or Bulgarian, we speak a common language because we are bound together by the love of Christ.
Al preached a sermon on the parable of the sowers. Pastor Andrej led in prayer. He also said some really gracious things about how important it has been for them to have people come to them with help, encouragement and prayer.
At the end of the service, everyone embraced us with spontaneous warmth and you got the feeling it was much more than a formality. They were really glad we had chosen to come and be with them.
Every day has brought a new surprise. Here we were, in a place more out of the way than we ever expected to be, embraced by this community of wonderful young people who are filled with joy at the faith they have found in Christ. We felt like we were in the presence of family.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Gypsy Church
On Tuesday, David drove us the three hours to Samokov, a small city south of Sofia. We drove through some magnificent mountain scenery to get there. He had arranged for us to meet Sacho, the pastor of one of two very active Gypsy churches. Sacho met us on the outskirts of town and took us to his church a bright and beautifully cared for building on the edge of a Gypsy quarter which is home to about 12,000 people.
We talked for about 30 minutes and then Sacho said he would take us for a tour. Most people in the community are unemployed. When they do work, they work in construction which has been devastated by the recent economic downturn. Most of the houses are makeshift, built without proper building permits, which means they don't pay taxes, which means they don't receive city services. They do not have running water and what electricity they have comes from tapping into one main line that runs along each street.
Children have little or no schooling and so the prospects of getting ahead are very limited. Most people are born, live their entire lives and die in this community.
Sacho told us that they had begun a ministry with abandoned children, many of whom 
they found scavenging in the garbage dump for food. They fed them
they found scavenging in the garbage dump for food. They fed them cared for them and began to teach them to read. But contributions from both their own church and overseas supporters have dried up with economic downturn and they have had to suspend the program.
This is one of the great challenges for indigenous Bulgarian churches. After the fall of communism, money and resources flowed in from the west, creating a rush of growth and excitement. This created an unhealthy dependency culture, and churches don't believe that they can sustain many of their ministries without infusions of support from the west. As these churches mature, their challenge will be to become self-supporting, both in financial and leadership terms.
Ministry under challenging conditions
One of the reasons we wanted to go to eastern Europe was to experience some of the challenges that people face in difficult circumstances. In Canada, we often talk about all the obstacles to the church. I've really had my eyes opened since being in Bulgaria.
On Monday we went with David Leistrum and Stilian, another ministry leader from the church in Stara Zagora, to visit a community in Nova Zagora that is populated by Turkish speaking people. It was like driving into another world -- Ramshackle houses, dirt roads teeming with people, animals and trash. We stopped outside a gate behind which was the home of Pastor Simeon and 
his wife Janka. This is Simeon and Janka with their three youngest children, Maria, Islam and Yussef.
his wife Janka. This is Simeon and Janka with their three youngest children, Maria, Islam and Yussef.Once inside I was surprised at how clean and well-kept their home was, in contrast to the surroundings outside. They invited us into their living room where there were refreshments waiting. With David as our interpreter, we asked them to tell us the story of our church.
Simeon and Janka have seven children. Their oldest daughter is 25. She was born with crossed eyes. When she was five years old, a visitor came and said "You know, there is Someone who can help her" -- meaning Jesus. As a Muslim, Simeon didn't want to go to their church, but he told his wife to go and find out more. He learned that many of her family had become Christians.
"One day," he said "they invited me to go and for some reason, I decided to accept. They said, 'Let's pray,' but I didn't even know how to pray or who this Jesus was. But as they prayed, I found myself weeping and felt a warmth and a joy in my heart. When we came home, I vowed before God and promised my wife that I would go to church. The next night, I went up for prayer. I was such a beginner! These people were so nice, so pleasant, and I was a sinner among them. But I prayed and saw a vision of angels and heard a voice saying, "Believe in me.' I answered, 'Lord, I don't know church that had started up in the neighborhood, but being Muslim, she waif you even exist or not, but I believe, and I know that when I go home, my child will be healed. I came home in tears, leaving my wife at church, and saw my little girl asleep. I woke her, she rubbed her eyes three times, looked at me and said, 'What do you want, Daddy?' Her eyes were straight. I went back to the church to get my wife and my faith was strong from that time on."
Simeon related how his son, who was born with a hearing impairment, was also healed.
We were joined by Slav, another of the pastors at the church. They spoke about the kind of life that people lead in this community. 95% of the people are unemployed. Most have very little access to health care. A woman in the church requires medication for extreme hypertension and had to get a loan (from a loan shark, not a bank) to pay for it. This only increased her stress. The church managed to scrape together enough funds to pay off her loan, but conditions are such that many people are sick.
It occurred to me that in affluent societies we have the privilege of having theoretical debates about the plausibility of divine healing. For these people, it is what they have. Slav said that the healings and the miracles that take place among them are one of the strongest attractions to the church. As in New Testament times, people are suffering and longing for someone to make them whole, and who are we to argue?
We asked about how people's lives were changed when they came to faith in Christ. A recurrent theme is that they give up drinking. These people are called Turks, but we heard that they are really Turkish speaking Roma (Gypsies), who, like North American First Nations, are devastated by the effects of alcoholism.
But they also spoke about changes in family relationships. Their inherited culture is highly patriarchal. Women are completely under the domination of their husbands. When people join the church, it's usually the whole family, because women and children won't come without the husband and father's permission, and when he decides to join, they follow.
Simeon answered this question like this: "At our church, we proclaim the Word of God. We tell people the story of God creating Eve from Adam's rib. We tell them that God did not create Eve from Adam's foot so that she would be crushed by him, or from his head so that she would rule over him, but from his rib so that they would be close to one another's heart. My wife and I are in partnership. We discuss things and when she has the better idea, we follow her way." They said that Janka is preparing to leave for Italy to work in the harvest for three months so that they will have the funds to support their ministry among their people.
We asked if there was tension in the community when people become Christians. "Not really," they said. They can't evangelize aggressively, but on the whole people respect the decision. However, Stilian told us that he was accosted by a knife-wielding man when he was visiting. It's a pretty dangerous place to live. "The devil is always trying to scare us," Simeon said, "but we are not afraid. God will take care of us."
We were so moved by the dignity and quiet strength of these people of faith.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
You can't put people in boxes
"Jimmy" Luchev founded the Church of God in Stara Zagora six years ago. He is fluent in English, having done an M. Div. degree at a seminary in Cleveland, Tennessee. The Church of God is a Pentecostal denomination and known in North America for being very conservative. What a surprise to get to know Jimmy.
As well as studying in America, he also spent four years studying in Germany. And he has a deep knowledge of the Orthodox tradition. He told us that he wrote a thesis on the church as an image, or an ikon, of the Trinity. He teaches at a seminary in Stara Zagora and one of his great interests is the mystical Russian philosopher/theologian Nicolae Berdyaev. He is a very bright, very perceptive and deeply spiritual person.
This morning we attended church, which meets in a theatre. There were about 80 people in attendance, not bad for a July Sunday. The music was your standard worship music (in Bulgarian, of course) but the worship leader was the best we have heard yet on this trip. We found out later that he is classically trained, with a position at the National Opera. But he played worship music on the keyboard with drive and energy and deep passion.
We were asked if we would preach. Diane spoke about the adventures we have had on our trip. She said that we have seen so many different kinds of expressions of church, but those that are alive have one thing in common. Jesus is at the centre.
I preached on 2 Corinthians 4:7: "For we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power if from God and not from us." The church comes in many different forms, but those forms are just the vessels in which God is willing to place the treasure of the Gospel. These clay jars are essential, but we should never confuse the container with the contents.
Over dinner last night, Jimmy was enthusing about a Russian Orthodox theologian whose works are just beginning to be translated into English. His last book spoke about the anti-Christ who, he said, will not come from outside the church but from within. The anti-Christ, he said, will take the form of Christianity without Christ. That summed up, for me, what we have learned on this trip.
As well as studying in America, he also spent four years studying in Germany. And he has a deep knowledge of the Orthodox tradition. He told us that he wrote a thesis on the church as an image, or an ikon, of the Trinity. He teaches at a seminary in Stara Zagora and one of his great interests is the mystical Russian philosopher/theologian Nicolae Berdyaev. He is a very bright, very perceptive and deeply spiritual person.
This morning we attended church, which meets in a theatre. There were about 80 people in attendance, not bad for a July Sunday. The music was your standard worship music (in Bulgarian, of course) but the worship leader was the best we have heard yet on this trip. We found out later that he is classically trained, with a position at the National Opera. But he played worship music on the keyboard with drive and energy and deep passion.
We were asked if we would preach. Diane spoke about the adventures we have had on our trip. She said that we have seen so many different kinds of expressions of church, but those that are alive have one thing in common. Jesus is at the centre.
I preached on 2 Corinthians 4:7: "For we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power if from God and not from us." The church comes in many different forms, but those forms are just the vessels in which God is willing to place the treasure of the Gospel. These clay jars are essential, but we should never confuse the container with the contents.
Over dinner last night, Jimmy was enthusing about a Russian Orthodox theologian whose works are just beginning to be translated into English. His last book spoke about the anti-Christ who, he said, will not come from outside the church but from within. The anti-Christ, he said, will take the form of Christianity without Christ. That summed up, for me, what we have learned on this trip.
Working up a sweat
On Saturday, some members from the church went to a nearby village where there is a home for mentally disabled children. First we stopped to pick up some wood and building supplies. The weather was the hottest we have experienced so far on this trip.
We arrived in the village and drove up to an aging building surrounded by a stone wall. Immediately the wall became crowded with kids who were obviously very challenged, yelling and jumping with excitement at the arrival of visitors. This was the most culturally different part of our trip. The home where these kids live is a pre-World War II school building, very dreary and depressing, that was converted by the communists as a place to put abandoned children, out of public sight where it might cause embarrassment and shame. Many of these children are very afflicted. Most of them are Roma and they suffer not only from mental disabilities but a variety of orthopedic disabilities that would probably have been easily corrected if they lived in Canada. Most are not orphans, they were just abandoned by their parents and hardly any of them ever receive visitors.
The kids were starved for contact and attention and we spent about 45 minutes just being with them, letting them get used to us, touching and being touched.
In the courtyard of the school were several dilapidated pieces of playground equipment and some broken benches which the team from the church was hoping to repair. Boards had to be sanded and metal climbers painted. They discovered they had brought the wrong size of steel bolts, so two of the men had to drive back into town to exchange them. The rest of the day was sawing, bolting, staining and painting.
One child caught Diane's attention. Because the kids all have their hair cut very short, we weren't sure if it was a boy or a girl. But we learned that his name was Ivan. He latched onto Diane who showed him how to sand the ends of the boards with a sanding block. He was very quiet and gentle and did not seem to have the problems that most of the rest of the kids had. The head of the staff at the home said there is a family interested in adopting him. That will go to the top of our prayer list. One of the men from the church is a social worker with the child protection office. He said that the government's plan is to phase out institutions like this one and place the kids in foster care. But there are 89 children between 7 and 16 years old in this facility. The ones we saw were the less afflicted. Some are unable to leave their rooms. If Ivan could find a loving family, what a difference it would make to his future.
We arrived in the village and drove up to an aging building surrounded by a stone wall. Immediately the wall became crowded with kids who were obviously very challenged, yelling and jumping with excitement at the arrival of visitors. This was the most culturally different part of our trip. The home where these kids live is a pre-World War II school building, very dreary and depressing, that was converted by the communists as a place to put abandoned children, out of public sight where it might cause embarrassment and shame. Many of these children are very afflicted. Most of them are Roma and they suffer not only from mental disabilities but a variety of orthopedic disabilities that would probably have been easily corrected if they lived in Canada. Most are not orphans, they were just abandoned by their parents and hardly any of them ever receive visitors.
The kids were starved for contact and attention and we spent about 45 minutes just being with them, letting them get used to us, touching and being touched.
In the courtyard of the school were several dilapidated pieces of playground equipment and some broken benches which the team from the church was hoping to repair. Boards had to be sanded and metal climbers painted. They discovered they had brought the wrong size of steel bolts, so two of the men had to drive back into town to exchange them. The rest of the day was sawing, bolting, staining and painting.
One child caught Diane's attention. Because the kids all have their hair cut very short, we weren't sure if it was a boy or a girl. But we learned that his name was Ivan. He latched onto Diane who showed him how to sand the ends of the boards with a sanding block. He was very quiet and gentle and did not seem to have the problems that most of the rest of the kids had. The head of the staff at the home said there is a family interested in adopting him. That will go to the top of our prayer list. One of the men from the church is a social worker with the child protection office. He said that the government's plan is to phase out institutions like this one and place the kids in foster care. But there are 89 children between 7 and 16 years old in this facility. The ones we saw were the less afflicted. Some are unable to leave their rooms. If Ivan could find a loving family, what a difference it would make to his future.
Arriving in Bulgaria
We left at 4:40 a.m. to go to the train station in Sighisoara. The first thing we saw was an entire family of Gypsies sleeping in the waiting room. Little children were curled up both on the benches and underneath on the hard floor -- no blankets or pillows -- sound asleep.
Of course, the train was late by about 25 minutes. We arrived in Bucharest at 11:30 and then switched to a much older train bound for Sofia. Murphy's law -- the morning train (when the weather was cool) was air conditioned. The afternoon train wasn't, and it was HOT. We were pretty wilted when we arrived in Gorna Oryahovitsa at about 5:30 p.m., 13 hours after we set out.
We were met by David Leistrum who works for international teams, and Dimitur "Jimmy" Luchev who is the lead pastor at the Church of God in Stara Zagora. We had about a two hour drive to Stara Zagora through some magnificent mountain scenery. Both Romania and Bulgaria are very beautiful countries.
Of course, the train was late by about 25 minutes. We arrived in Bucharest at 11:30 and then switched to a much older train bound for Sofia. Murphy's law -- the morning train (when the weather was cool) was air conditioned. The afternoon train wasn't, and it was HOT. We were pretty wilted when we arrived in Gorna Oryahovitsa at about 5:30 p.m., 13 hours after we set out.
We were met by David Leistrum who works for international teams, and Dimitur "Jimmy" Luchev who is the lead pastor at the Church of God in Stara Zagora. We had about a two hour drive to Stara Zagora through some magnificent mountain scenery. Both Romania and Bulgaria are very beautiful countries.
This is a fortress that was built in the middle ages to defend against Turkish invaders. Jimmy gave us a great running commentary on this country whose recorded history goes back 6000 years.
Stara Zagora is a very pleasant city of 170,000 people situated in the middle of the country. We are staying in the apartment that is normally occupied by another missionary couple who are back in the U. S. on leave.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Church in Tigmandru
Roberta took us to see her second church in the village of Tigmandru, about 30 minutes through the beautiful from Romanian countryside from Sighisoara. It's a typical village of 2 streets with tile-roofed houses, but I was really surprised when we drove up to a beautiful brand-new building.
But first, there's a story about how this church started. Several years ago, three people from Roberta's church in Sighisoara drove out to Tigmandru to pick up some turkeys for an American Thanksgiving celebration that they have each year. Just as they left the village, they were in a bad car accident and the van they were driving was totalled. But the three people in the van only received minor injuries.
When the car was towed back into the village, people said there absolutely must have been three people killed. They couldn't believe that anybody had walked out of the accident, and began to ask, "How could this have happened?" A couple from there who had already started to attend church in Sighisoara said they believed that God had looked after them, and that started conversations that led to more questions that led to several people becoming Christians.
Today, this church is a ministry centre for the entire village. There is a big bright worship area, but that's just the beginning. On the main floor there is an office/meeting room that is used by a doctor for a clinic. On the second floor there is a wood shop with power tools, and something called an "ecology lab." Roberta is a former chemistry professor and one of her tools for outreach has been to start an ecology club. Young people from the village learn about science, learn how to test the water in the local creek and how to use a microscope. Through the club, they build relationships that have been life-changing.
On the third floor is a large room set up for sewing. Magda, the main congregational leader, has taught many local women how to sew and they have begun a project making souvenir dolls in traditional Romanian dress that they can sell to raise funds.
It's more than just sewing, though. Magda leads them in a devotional time and talks to them about their spiritual lives as well.
Across the hall is a "baby room" where up to 30 mothers meet with their infants to build community and learn parenting skills. Many of the Roma families in the village do not have running water, so one thing that they are able to do is give their babies a bath. On top of one of the cupboards are a whole stack of baby baths.
This Nazarene church in a small village in the hills of Romania is making an incalculable difference to people's lives in every way -- materially, socially and spiritually. It's all come about simply because people were faithful. Roberta speaks quite matter-of-factly about the difference it makes in the lives of many of these families when the parents become Christians. They really do stop drinking. The incidence of domestic abuse really does fall. Others begin to notice a difference in them. It's kind of fallen out of fashion in North America to argue that it's good for people to come to faith, but what's happening in Tigmandru shows that we shouldn't be too glib about dismissing that reality.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Hopefulness
Reading Eva Hoffmann's account of her travels in Eastern Europe shortly after the fall of communism makes me realize how much things have changed. In 1991, it was often difficult for Hoffmann to find a basic meal or a clean hotel room. Making a train reservation or telephone call was the kind of impossible experience that the term "Kafkaesque" was coined to describe. Some countries, notably Romania, seemed to be on the verge of social collapse. And this was after the soul-destroying repressions of communism itself.
How different our experience has been. Yes, train travel can be a challenge and most places do not take credit cards. We have heard about the struggles of ordinary people to make a decent living as consumerism takes hold. And, the farther south we go, the more obvious are the deprivations of the Roma, the Gypsies, whose ragged children interrupt virtually every cafe meal, every stop at a traffic light, every stroll through a public place with carefully rehearsed appeals for money.
But these are countries that basically work. What has amazed me is that the people we have met, at least, are so together. It astonishes me that they are not more scarred -- at least not visibly -- by the legacies of war, revolution, want and communism.
But there is a kind of pessimism that hangs in the air. "We used to have a beautiful country," a lovely young woman we met on the train, said wistfully. "But you do have a beatiful country!" we protested. The scenery of the Carpathian mountains of Transylvania is truly magnificent. "Look at that village. It's like something from a postcard." "Yes," but then there is this -- pointing to the remains of an abandoned factory, crumbling from disuse. "Maybe you'll come to visit Canada some day," we said. "I very much doubt it," she laughed. Newly married, she and her husband are finding it difficult to make ends meet. She has a mid-level government job that does not pay well and she seems to have few of the dreams of the young. I understand why. But she is young, educated, fluent in English and I long for her to believe that the future can be full of wonder and excitement.
Eva Hoffmann remarked on this gloominess:
The moment we find ourselves on the Romanian side, our passengers begin apologizing. They apologize for the road, the landscape, the poverty. Neither Peter nor I see anything so out of the ordinary, but the habit of national self-deprecation is something I've encountered all through these travels. It's as if the citizens of these countries, in addition to the real humiliation they may feel from having been reduced to second-class conditions, wanted to ward off the immediate humiliation of a foreigner's judgment. At least, they want to indicate, they're not so provincial as not to understand that their country is a poor province.
In my short time in Eastern Europe, I've come to believe that what the people here need is not western consumer goods but what all people everywhere need -- a sense of hope in the future. For me, at least, that hope is secured by one thing -- the fact that God has come among us in Jesus Christ. Those we have visited with have all been called to share this same conviction--not imperialistically in order to build a religious institution; but lovingly and hopefully.
How different our experience has been. Yes, train travel can be a challenge and most places do not take credit cards. We have heard about the struggles of ordinary people to make a decent living as consumerism takes hold. And, the farther south we go, the more obvious are the deprivations of the Roma, the Gypsies, whose ragged children interrupt virtually every cafe meal, every stop at a traffic light, every stroll through a public place with carefully rehearsed appeals for money.
But these are countries that basically work. What has amazed me is that the people we have met, at least, are so together. It astonishes me that they are not more scarred -- at least not visibly -- by the legacies of war, revolution, want and communism.
But there is a kind of pessimism that hangs in the air. "We used to have a beautiful country," a lovely young woman we met on the train, said wistfully. "But you do have a beatiful country!" we protested. The scenery of the Carpathian mountains of Transylvania is truly magnificent. "Look at that village. It's like something from a postcard." "Yes," but then there is this -- pointing to the remains of an abandoned factory, crumbling from disuse. "Maybe you'll come to visit Canada some day," we said. "I very much doubt it," she laughed. Newly married, she and her husband are finding it difficult to make ends meet. She has a mid-level government job that does not pay well and she seems to have few of the dreams of the young. I understand why. But she is young, educated, fluent in English and I long for her to believe that the future can be full of wonder and excitement.
Eva Hoffmann remarked on this gloominess:
The moment we find ourselves on the Romanian side, our passengers begin apologizing. They apologize for the road, the landscape, the poverty. Neither Peter nor I see anything so out of the ordinary, but the habit of national self-deprecation is something I've encountered all through these travels. It's as if the citizens of these countries, in addition to the real humiliation they may feel from having been reduced to second-class conditions, wanted to ward off the immediate humiliation of a foreigner's judgment. At least, they want to indicate, they're not so provincial as not to understand that their country is a poor province.
In my short time in Eastern Europe, I've come to believe that what the people here need is not western consumer goods but what all people everywhere need -- a sense of hope in the future. For me, at least, that hope is secured by one thing -- the fact that God has come among us in Jesus Christ. Those we have visited with have all been called to share this same conviction--not imperialistically in order to build a religious institution; but lovingly and hopefully.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
More lessons in trust
One thing this trip has done is to bring us into contact with people who really do live by faith. So often, when we have asked people why they think they are where the are, the answer has been "Because this is where God has called me to be." These are people who are completely sensible and down to earth, they are completely unself-conscious about their conviction that God is guiding them.
Over lunch today, Dorothy Tarrant told us a story. She got an email last year from a woman in Pakistan who is Roman Catholic, inquiring about coming to Sighisoara to volunteer. She realized, she said, that Veritas wouldn't normally get volunteers from Pakistan, but she believed God was calling her and she had something to offer. She said that relatives who lived in Europe had offered to pay her way.
Dorothy thought that having a volunteer from a country even poorer than Romania had some real positives and began to look into it. But immediately there were visa problems. Romania considers Pakistan a "negative country" and Veritas would be required to post a 2500 Euro bond in case they decided to deport her. Dorothy figured at that point that the idea was a non-starter because they didn't have that kind of money sitting around.
But then she said she woke up in the middle of the night with the story from 1 Kings about the widow of Zarephath in her mind. That's the story of Elijah visiting a poor widow who is not an ISraelite at the height of a famine. He asks her for something to eat. She replies that she only has enough flour and oil to make one last meal for her and her son, after which they will lie down and die. Elijah says "Make something for me first, and there will be enough." And miraculously the oil and the flour are replenished every day.
Dorothy said it was like God was saying to her, "I have plans to bring this woman to you. Who are you to say we can't afford to put aside this money. Do it and I will provide." So she got the money together. As it turned out, the Romanian immigration authorities didn't even ask for the money. The Pakistani woman came and was a real blessing to the work here.
This is one of the most important lessons I'm going to take home with me. I have realized how obsessed I have become with trying to eliminate every element of risk before I do anything. I'm going to take home with me not only this story of faith, but many others.
Over lunch today, Dorothy Tarrant told us a story. She got an email last year from a woman in Pakistan who is Roman Catholic, inquiring about coming to Sighisoara to volunteer. She realized, she said, that Veritas wouldn't normally get volunteers from Pakistan, but she believed God was calling her and she had something to offer. She said that relatives who lived in Europe had offered to pay her way.
Dorothy thought that having a volunteer from a country even poorer than Romania had some real positives and began to look into it. But immediately there were visa problems. Romania considers Pakistan a "negative country" and Veritas would be required to post a 2500 Euro bond in case they decided to deport her. Dorothy figured at that point that the idea was a non-starter because they didn't have that kind of money sitting around.
But then she said she woke up in the middle of the night with the story from 1 Kings about the widow of Zarephath in her mind. That's the story of Elijah visiting a poor widow who is not an ISraelite at the height of a famine. He asks her for something to eat. She replies that she only has enough flour and oil to make one last meal for her and her son, after which they will lie down and die. Elijah says "Make something for me first, and there will be enough." And miraculously the oil and the flour are replenished every day.
Dorothy said it was like God was saying to her, "I have plans to bring this woman to you. Who are you to say we can't afford to put aside this money. Do it and I will provide." So she got the money together. As it turned out, the Romanian immigration authorities didn't even ask for the money. The Pakistani woman came and was a real blessing to the work here.
This is one of the most important lessons I'm going to take home with me. I have realized how obsessed I have become with trying to eliminate every element of risk before I do anything. I'm going to take home with me not only this story of faith, but many others.
Breaking down Loneliness
Roberta Bustin is our other host in Sighisoara. She's from Arkansas and speaks with a gorgeous southern accent, even when she's speaking Romanian! Roberta retired from teaching chemistry at a Nazarene college twelve years ago, and decided in her retirement to come to Romania and plant churches!
One of her responsibilities is as the leader of a Nazarene congregation in Sighisoara. She also leads a church plant in a village about 30 minutes from the town. Roberta led us up and down over Sighisoara's famous cobbled streets (currently all torn up as part of a never-ending "improvements to the infrastructure" of the citadel area, which has been going on for several years now with no end in sight) to her little church building in a pleasant neighborhood.
What she wanted us to see was the club the church runs for elderly folks. Many are quite poor, they live alone, and without the church they would be almost completely isolated. The church is open each day from 10 till 12, and they can come and socialize, drink coffee, have their blood pressure taken, and receive a time of precious human contact. We were greeted by Mia who runs the program. Each of the seniors shook hands and gave us a hearty "Buna ziua!" (Good day.)
So much of what Christ calls us to do is very simple -- to open our eyes to those in need and simply to love them. The church may not be able to meet every need, but it is such a simple thing to overcome the loneliness and isolation that would otherwise be the daily lot of these folks. As a result of coming to the seniors club, many have joined the church, extending their "family" further.
So much of what Christ calls us to do is very simple -- to open our eyes to those in need and simply to love them. The church may not be able to meet every need, but it is such a simple thing to overcome the loneliness and isolation that would otherwise be the daily lot of these folks. As a result of coming to the seniors club, many have joined the church, extending their "family" further.
Veritas
This morning we went with Dorothy Tarrant to the House on the Rock, a beautifully restored 17th century building that houses the International Cafe and offices of Veritas. We met with the staff who gather on Tuesdays for a time of devotion and sharing.
These are all bright and well-qualified women, social workers, educators, accountants, who run programs for children, youth and the elderly. Immediately after we were introduced, they started asking many questions. "What is the United Church of Canada? What do you believe? What is happening with the church in Canada?"
Eva, who operates programs for special needs kids, is Hungarian Reformed, Dorothy is Nazarene, and all the rest are Orthodox. We had hoped to be able to meet some Romanian Orthodox and it was good to get their perspective on the issues facing the church. In a lot of ways it sounded just like home. Many of the people who attend their churches are elderly women, raising concerns about the future. Church doesn't seem to appeal to the young. People are so bound by tradition and concerns about buildings, there is little attempt to reach out to a new generation.
Several of the women described new social service projects initiated by the Orthodox Church or in cooperation with other faith based organizations. One challenge in Romania, however, is that while the church historically assisted the disadvantaged, under Communism this responsbility was taken over by the state. It's like the church has to re-learn its mission. We did hear about a day centre for the elderly, financed by EU money, but with all professional staff, leaving little room for local members to get involved.
However, Petra, who spoke very good English, talked about the current patriarch of the Romanian Church who is committed to seeing the church take back many of its traditional social responsibilities. He is also very open to cooperation with other denominations. Another of the women talked about her own priest who makes a real effort to connect with children in the parish, congratulating on doing well in school or in observing disciplines of fasting.
Later, over lunch, Dorothy commented on how there is little "family of faith" sense among the Orthodox. It is difficult for many of them to discuss their faith or to have the confidence to lead Bible study or pray aloud. There is a sense that the church does what the church always has done, and there is no need to cultivate attractional community. Our friend Don Wolf, a Roman Catholic priest, recently traveled in Romania and Bulgaria and sent us some interesting reflections on Orthodox spirituality. This is part of what he wrote:
[People] come, light a candle, pray before the icons, and leave liturgy goes on, much of it behind the iconostasis and thus out of sight of anyone except the priests and deacons, whether there is anyone present or not. Neither the priests nor the people expect anyone to actually be there. After all, if it’s holy and good for the people, it will be just as holy and just as good whether anyone actually attends....Eucharist is the encounter of the Church with the presence of Christ and God’s plan of salvation. It is just as great an encounter if it takes place with the clergy as it would be if it included five thousand people gathered all at once.
It's a good reminder of what widely divergent attitudes, world-views and experiences are gathered under words like "church" or "Christianity."
We got some insight into the cultural mix of Transylvania which has deep-rooted German and Hungarian influences as well. Most of the Germans in Sighisoara left for Germany in 1990-1992 after the fall of communism, bringing to a sad end 8 centuries of robust German culture. But the Hungarians are still very much present. Eva, the social worker, spoke about how important it is to retain Hungarian institutions like the church, but how frustrating she finds it that the intransigence of an older generation is a barrier to younger people coming to faith.
Dorothy told us that one of the woman would be sharing a personal reflection. Oana brought a book about a Romanian monk who was much sought after for his wisdom and spiritual insight. She read a portion in which this monk reflected on the healing of the man lowered through the roof of the house in the Gospel of Luke. Even those weakened and broken physically can be healed and strengthened in their spirits.
It was great to be welcomed by this group of accomplished Christian women who are dedicating themselves to working with many disadvantaged people in Sighisoara.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Backtracking to Prague
I've been reading Exit Into History: A Journey Through the New Eastern Europe, by the Polish American novelist Eva Hoffmann. Her description of entering Prague in 1991 is exactly what I wanted to say a couple of weeks ago:
We're passing rather nondescript peripheral neighborhoods; but soon we enter Prague proper, and I enter that state of primitive astonishment -- of helpless appreciation -- that is occasionally the traveler's reward.
Nothing I know about this other city of seven hills has prepared me for its extravagance and abundance and endless visual surprises, as if, somewhere beneath its ground, there were a constantly replenishing reservoir, or a geyser, from which beauty springs. The eye cannot move without encoutering a stunning piece of statuary, or painted decoration, or ornate architectural detail, or a Cubist thicket of chimneys. The parts meld into a whole that yeilds a sort of esthetic overcharge, an organic effect that is more than the sum of its compenents.
We're passing rather nondescript peripheral neighborhoods; but soon we enter Prague proper, and I enter that state of primitive astonishment -- of helpless appreciation -- that is occasionally the traveler's reward.
Nothing I know about this other city of seven hills has prepared me for its extravagance and abundance and endless visual surprises, as if, somewhere beneath its ground, there were a constantly replenishing reservoir, or a geyser, from which beauty springs. The eye cannot move without encoutering a stunning piece of statuary, or painted decoration, or ornate architectural detail, or a Cubist thicket of chimneys. The parts meld into a whole that yeilds a sort of esthetic overcharge, an organic effect that is more than the sum of its compenents.
Sighisoara
We're staying at the home of Dorothy Tarrant and Roberta Bustin, right inside the citadel of Sighisoara. This city dates back to the 13th century and is one of seven fortified towns in Romania populated by Germans called Saxons. It is one of the best preserved old cities in Europe and is a UNESCO World Heritage site.
That's Sighisoara. Dorothy and Roberta's house is a beautifully restored old house with a charming guest apartment on the upper floor which is all ours. This is what we see when we look out our bedroom window.
That's Sighisoara. Dorothy and Roberta's house is a beautifully restored old house with a charming guest apartment on the upper floor which is all ours. This is what we see when we look out our bedroom window.
Not too shabby!
Dorothy grew up in England, taught in Boston, Mass. for 20 years and has lived in Romania for since 1993. She directs a program called Veritas which provides supportive services to disadvantaged children, youth and seniors in Sighisoara. Most of the people benefiting from Veritas are Roma (Gypsy) and it began with a group of American college volunteers who came to help out after the fall of communism.
Veritas runs an international cafe, a children's center, programs for the isolated elderly, camps and other programs. There is also a Romanian Studies Program that allows college students to live with a Romanian family and volunteer while they are here. It is affiliated with the Nazarene church.
You can check out what Veritas does at www.veritas.ro.
High school students are recruited to provide walking tours of the historic areas of the city. We had two lovely tour guides, Grade 12 students, whose English was amazing. Since we were the only two signed up for the tour, we got very personalized attention and learned a lot about this amazing city.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Weekend in Arad
Arad has been nicknamed "Little Vienna" because many 19th century buildings were deliberately patterned after the architecture in its imperial Big Brother. Here's the city hall lit at night.
Friday night we went to The Strand, a riverside entertainment complex, to celebrate Paula's birthday. W
e had local Romanian food and beverages and met some great people.
On Saturday, Scott drove us up into the Carpathian foothills through some old villages populated mostly by Roma. It was like stepping back centuries. We saw a shepherd who could have been from biblical times. Chickens and goats roamed the dirt streets winding past old tile-roofed houses.
Saturday afternoon, we visited Oaza (Oasis) which is a home for children run by the church. It began as a rescue mission after the fall of Ceaucescu when the streets of Romania were full of abandoned children. With the coming of the EU, things are much more tightly regulated. Facilities have to conform to EU standards which means that they can only accomodate 12 kids. Not all are orphaned, some just can't (or shouldn't) be cared for by their parents. As with any ministry with needy children, there are stories of wonderful victories and heart-breaking losses. But the staff are incredibly faithful and filled with hope. Here's Diane watching one of their favorite movies, a Bollywood musical. They've seen it so many times, they can sing along with all the songs -- in Hindi!
On Sunday, we attended the church that Scott and Paula have been working with. Originally a Pentecostal congregation, they are now affiliated with the Free Methodists. They meet in an old union hall where, Scott says, they used to show communist propaganda films. For that reason, some older people won't attend because of the memories the building brings back.
There were about 40 people at the service. They start with an hour (that's right, an hour) of singing, take a break, and then it's 
time for the teaching, which can also last anywhere up to an hour. Here's the guest preacher for the day, along with his Romanian translator.
And, of course, the train was late. But we made it. I'm writing this blog entry from Sighisoara. More about that later.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Timisoara
Arad is one of four cities in the very western part of Romania that are more "European" and more prosperous than other parts of the country. This is also the place where the revolt against the Ceaucesu regime really began in the late 1980s.We wanted to go to Timisoara because I remember hearing about it on the news. Paula said she would take us there. Now, a word about driving in Romania. It's an experience in itself. To an outsider, it looks like complete chaos, but there is actually an intricate system of mutual cooperation and respect that people are expected to follow, and if they do, things generally work out. Let's just say, though, that the drive to Timisoara was, uh, exciting.
Timisoara is a very beautiful university city. The place we wanted to visit was the square running between the orthodox cathedral and the theatre where people began a candlelight vigil in December 1989, to protest the dismissal of the pastor at a Hungarian Reformed church whom the government did not like. Gradually this vigil swelled to a mass protest which was taken up in other cities. Ceaucescu panicked, turned the secret police and the army on the crowds and many were shot. Eventually his own military turned against him, he was apprehended trying to escape, tried along with his wife and summarily shot.
This is where it all took place.
"Repenters"
We're quickly discovering that you can't talk about "eastern Europe" as a single entity. While most of the countries share a legacy of communist domination, they are very, very different from one another.
We learned that the Czech Republic is one of the most "atheist" countries in the world. While about 85% of Canadians claim to have some belief in God, it's the reverse in Czech. Two out of three say there is no God, which presents unique challenges for proclaiming the Gospel. Even deep rooted traditions like the Hussite and Roman Catholic Churches are relatively weak.
Romanians, by contrast, are deeply religious. 85% of the population is Orthodox and the Baptist and Pentecostal churches are quite strong, at least by eastern European standards. That may sound like a more hospitable climate, but in fact it has its own barriers and challenges. Religion is very deeply rooted in cultural traditions that are hard to break. The Orthodox are quite suspicious of the evangelicals. And the more traditional evangelical churches have some tenacious and legalistic social customs. The position of women, for example, is very low. Many Pentecostal churches require women to wear head coverings at all times, and there is almost no female leadership of any kind.
The every day expression for evangelicals in Romania is pocaits, which means "repenters." For some, it's an epithet, like "holy rollers" or "methodists" used to be. But it's also just a used as a descriptive as well.
The groups that we have had contact with, though, are trying all trying to reclaim this word in a positive sense. They are working to overcome the deeply entrenched social customs that prevent people from hearing and being freed by the Gospel. We have met with pastors and church leaders in a variety of settings, and they all say they want people to experience the transforming power of the Gospel, not be tied down by a lot of legalisms.
We learned that the Czech Republic is one of the most "atheist" countries in the world. While about 85% of Canadians claim to have some belief in God, it's the reverse in Czech. Two out of three say there is no God, which presents unique challenges for proclaiming the Gospel. Even deep rooted traditions like the Hussite and Roman Catholic Churches are relatively weak.
Romanians, by contrast, are deeply religious. 85% of the population is Orthodox and the Baptist and Pentecostal churches are quite strong, at least by eastern European standards. That may sound like a more hospitable climate, but in fact it has its own barriers and challenges. Religion is very deeply rooted in cultural traditions that are hard to break. The Orthodox are quite suspicious of the evangelicals. And the more traditional evangelical churches have some tenacious and legalistic social customs. The position of women, for example, is very low. Many Pentecostal churches require women to wear head coverings at all times, and there is almost no female leadership of any kind.
The every day expression for evangelicals in Romania is pocaits, which means "repenters." For some, it's an epithet, like "holy rollers" or "methodists" used to be. But it's also just a used as a descriptive as well.
The groups that we have had contact with, though, are trying all trying to reclaim this word in a positive sense. They are working to overcome the deeply entrenched social customs that prevent people from hearing and being freed by the Gospel. We have met with pastors and church leaders in a variety of settings, and they all say they want people to experience the transforming power of the Gospel, not be tied down by a lot of legalisms.
What a trip!
I haven't blogged for a couple of days because we're staying at an apartment without Wi-fi. So I've got some catching up to do.
On Tuesday, a taxi picked us up at the conference centre at 6 a.m. We got our first train in Frydlant at 6:40, changed in Ostrava, changed in Prerov, got to Breclav and found out that our next train to Budapest would be about an hour late arriving. When we got to Budapest, we found that our train to Arad, Romania was apparently the only train in the whole of eastern Europe that left on time. We missed it by about 15 minutes.
Train stations in eastern Europe are interesting. You go to one office to get information and another office to buy your ticket. The people with the information don't sell tickets and the people who sell tickets don't know anything. We had to go back and forth between four different places to get a reservation on the next train, which fortunately was only a couple of hours later. We arrived in Arad at (I thought) 9:45. But we entered a different time zone, so it was really 10:45.
Scott and Paula Dunn were our contacts. They are from the Free Methodist Church in the US and have been working with a church in Arad for 3 years. Scott picked us up at the train station and took us to a really nice apartment that has been used by a number of different mission-related people. It's great to have our own place!
Scott and Paula have been fantastic, taking us all around Arad and some other places as well. Details to follow.
On Tuesday, a taxi picked us up at the conference centre at 6 a.m. We got our first train in Frydlant at 6:40, changed in Ostrava, changed in Prerov, got to Breclav and found out that our next train to Budapest would be about an hour late arriving. When we got to Budapest, we found that our train to Arad, Romania was apparently the only train in the whole of eastern Europe that left on time. We missed it by about 15 minutes.
Train stations in eastern Europe are interesting. You go to one office to get information and another office to buy your ticket. The people with the information don't sell tickets and the people who sell tickets don't know anything. We had to go back and forth between four different places to get a reservation on the next train, which fortunately was only a couple of hours later. We arrived in Arad at (I thought) 9:45. But we entered a different time zone, so it was really 10:45.
Scott and Paula Dunn were our contacts. They are from the Free Methodist Church in the US and have been working with a church in Arad for 3 years. Scott picked us up at the train station and took us to a really nice apartment that has been used by a number of different mission-related people. It's great to have our own place!
Scott and Paula have been fantastic, taking us all around Arad and some other places as well. Details to follow.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Happy Jan Hus Day
Today is a bank holiday in the Czech R. It commemorates the martyrdom of Jan Hus, the pre-Protestant Reformer, in 1415.
Yesterday was St. Cyril and Methodius Day. Those two guys brought Christianity to the Slavs in the 9th century.
Yesterday was St. Cyril and Methodius Day. Those two guys brought Christianity to the Slavs in the 9th century.
Czech hospitality
Dave Patty, who told us about Malenovice, said we should go to the church he attends in Frydlant nad Ostravici, a town of about 10,000, 15 minutes from our hotel. The only hitch was that both he and his wife Connie wouldn't be there this past weekend. But, they said, there are lots of wonderful people who speak English.
Both Diane and I are good with languages, and everywhere we've been we can kind of puzzle things out based on our knowledge of French and German. But I have to tell you, Czech is a totally different ball of wax. There is almost nothing recognizable about either the sound or appearance of Czech.
So going to a Czech worship service, not knowing who would be there or if we would understand a blessed word was a bit of a leap of faith. But we've discovered on this trip that if we just go for it and take that leap, wonderful things happen.
Church was to be at 4 p.m., so we booked a taxi to pick us up at 3:30 and drop us off at -- who knows where? The taxi pulled up in front of a squarish building that could have been a house, an office, or a small community center. There was a sign over the door and we asked our taxi driver what it said. "House of gardeners" he replied, cryptically.
A man, woman and little boy came along just as we stepped out of the cab. "Do you speak Czech?" he asked in very good English. "Not at all," we said. "But we heard there was church here." "I'm Lubo," he replied, "I pastor the church. Come and join us."
Lubo was full of apologies. "It's summer. Many people are away, and most of our youth are away working at English camps. So there may not be many people here." At 3:55, there was Lubo, his two daughters who were leading the music, his wife and an older lady who may have been her mother (not sure.) But, by 4, about 20 people had arrived, (down from an average of 60) including young families, a Korean man with his little boy, and an American from Mobile, Alabama, named Charlotte. Charlotte heard us from the other side of the room and came over. "I heard you speaking English!" she said.
Before the service, Lubo said, "I'm afraid you won't get much of the service without some help," so he called over a woman in her 30s named Marcela. "Here, Marcela will translate for you." Marcela is Czech, but lived in England and speaks very good English. She sat between us and provided us with simultaneous translation!
Lubo's daughters led a couple of songs which we immediately recognized as "I Could Sing of your Love Forever" and "Here I Am To Worship" -- in Slovak. There was a time of sharing concerns for people in the congregation. Two young women were driving to a camp in Romania when their car was rear-ended and totaled. We prayed for them as well as for others.
The Scripture text was Ephesians 4: 11-16. The sermon was on how God equips the church with people who have gifts for prophecy, apostleship, teaching and evangelism. Lubo told a story of when he was a teacher. He had an especially recalcitrant student who wanted a better mark than his work deserved. In dealing with this student, Lubo eventually had an opportunity to share with him his faith in Christ and the young man, full of attitude, became a Christian.
After the service, Lubo told us that the congregation is really struggling with how to extend hospitality to non-Czech speakers. They have a lot of visitors and feel compelled to find ways to make them feel at home. That's what Marcela did for us and we told him how welcomed we had felt. And I thought, "Wow, how attentive are we in our churches to people who 'speak a different language?'"
Il Song, the Korean man, wanted to talk to me when he found out we were Canadians. "My son is playing hockey!" he told me, and showed me some pictures on his iPhone.
Our taxi was waiting, but Lubo said, "We must pray for you before you leave." And so he did.
Earlier in the day on Sunday, part of me wanted to say, "We don't know where the church is, who will be there or what it will be like. Maybe we should just spend the day at the hotel." We were both so glad we went and so blessed by this wonderful Christian community in a little Czech town.
Both Diane and I are good with languages, and everywhere we've been we can kind of puzzle things out based on our knowledge of French and German. But I have to tell you, Czech is a totally different ball of wax. There is almost nothing recognizable about either the sound or appearance of Czech.
So going to a Czech worship service, not knowing who would be there or if we would understand a blessed word was a bit of a leap of faith. But we've discovered on this trip that if we just go for it and take that leap, wonderful things happen.
Church was to be at 4 p.m., so we booked a taxi to pick us up at 3:30 and drop us off at -- who knows where? The taxi pulled up in front of a squarish building that could have been a house, an office, or a small community center. There was a sign over the door and we asked our taxi driver what it said. "House of gardeners" he replied, cryptically.
A man, woman and little boy came along just as we stepped out of the cab. "Do you speak Czech?" he asked in very good English. "Not at all," we said. "But we heard there was church here." "I'm Lubo," he replied, "I pastor the church. Come and join us."
Lubo was full of apologies. "It's summer. Many people are away, and most of our youth are away working at English camps. So there may not be many people here." At 3:55, there was Lubo, his two daughters who were leading the music, his wife and an older lady who may have been her mother (not sure.) But, by 4, about 20 people had arrived, (down from an average of 60) including young families, a Korean man with his little boy, and an American from Mobile, Alabama, named Charlotte. Charlotte heard us from the other side of the room and came over. "I heard you speaking English!" she said.
Before the service, Lubo said, "I'm afraid you won't get much of the service without some help," so he called over a woman in her 30s named Marcela. "Here, Marcela will translate for you." Marcela is Czech, but lived in England and speaks very good English. She sat between us and provided us with simultaneous translation!
Lubo's daughters led a couple of songs which we immediately recognized as "I Could Sing of your Love Forever" and "Here I Am To Worship" -- in Slovak. There was a time of sharing concerns for people in the congregation. Two young women were driving to a camp in Romania when their car was rear-ended and totaled. We prayed for them as well as for others.
The Scripture text was Ephesians 4: 11-16. The sermon was on how God equips the church with people who have gifts for prophecy, apostleship, teaching and evangelism. Lubo told a story of when he was a teacher. He had an especially recalcitrant student who wanted a better mark than his work deserved. In dealing with this student, Lubo eventually had an opportunity to share with him his faith in Christ and the young man, full of attitude, became a Christian.
After the service, Lubo told us that the congregation is really struggling with how to extend hospitality to non-Czech speakers. They have a lot of visitors and feel compelled to find ways to make them feel at home. That's what Marcela did for us and we told him how welcomed we had felt. And I thought, "Wow, how attentive are we in our churches to people who 'speak a different language?'"
Il Song, the Korean man, wanted to talk to me when he found out we were Canadians. "My son is playing hockey!" he told me, and showed me some pictures on his iPhone.
Our taxi was waiting, but Lubo said, "We must pray for you before you leave." And so he did.
Earlier in the day on Sunday, part of me wanted to say, "We don't know where the church is, who will be there or what it will be like. Maybe we should just spend the day at the hotel." We were both so glad we went and so blessed by this wonderful Christian community in a little Czech town.
Eastern Europe
We weren't at all sure what we would find when we got to Eastern Europe. Since this sabbatical is all about experiencing what Christians are dealing with in different parts of the world, we wanted to see how the church is faring in a post-communist environment.
The effects of communism are still very much felt in the Czech Republic. Connie Patty, who along with her husband Dave, works for Josiah Venture, told us that openness to faith really varies with generations. Some elderly people are very faithful and passionate about the church. The age group that is the most closed are the 40 to 60 year olds who were deeply marked by the repression and cynicism of the communist era. Kim, an American who lives here with her husband Daniel, told us that there is deep mistrust of churches because under communism pastors would often inform on their church members to the government.
(Read any of Vaclav Havel's books of essays if you want a flavor for what Czech communism did to people's hearts, minds and souls.)
Younger adults (25-40) are not as closed as their parents, but they tend to have been sucked in more by the promise of western materialism. They tend not to have a very developed spiritual dimension to their lives and hope that if they work hard enough, they'll be able to buy lots of consumer goods.
It's the youth and the teens who are the most open. Connie said that they are beginning to wake up to the possibility that there's more to life than money, work and parties. Kim told us that every generation that is farther removed from the communist years is healthier and less damaged.
The English camp that's taking place in the hotel is for these teenagers. It's one of about 80 camps that JOsiah Venture runs throughout Eastern Europe.
Now, this may not sound like a good place for a couple of old fogies who need their sleep to spend a few days, but it's actually quite wonderful. The way the English camps work is that a team from a church in the US (or maybe Canada or Ireland) provides the leadership. The participants come from a Czech congregation. So it's not simply a free-lance, send-your-kids-to-camp kind of thing, but a real church to church partnership.
The leadership team is from an Evangelical Free Church in Denver, Colorado. There are 18 mostly young adults who have come for a couple of weeks. They lead programming and worship, and work with the Czech kids in 3 English sessions per day. It's amazing how young people look and act the same wherever you go. The kids who are here are wonderful, friendly, enthusiastic and open.
But it's slow, patient work here in the Czech Republic. Diane overheard one of the leadership team say that about 1 out of every 50 kids they work with becomes a Christian. But I expect that God is also at work in unseen ways. What is being shared with these young people is the promise of something more than materialism and good news they can build their lives on.
The effects of communism are still very much felt in the Czech Republic. Connie Patty, who along with her husband Dave, works for Josiah Venture, told us that openness to faith really varies with generations. Some elderly people are very faithful and passionate about the church. The age group that is the most closed are the 40 to 60 year olds who were deeply marked by the repression and cynicism of the communist era. Kim, an American who lives here with her husband Daniel, told us that there is deep mistrust of churches because under communism pastors would often inform on their church members to the government.
(Read any of Vaclav Havel's books of essays if you want a flavor for what Czech communism did to people's hearts, minds and souls.)
Younger adults (25-40) are not as closed as their parents, but they tend to have been sucked in more by the promise of western materialism. They tend not to have a very developed spiritual dimension to their lives and hope that if they work hard enough, they'll be able to buy lots of consumer goods.
It's the youth and the teens who are the most open. Connie said that they are beginning to wake up to the possibility that there's more to life than money, work and parties. Kim told us that every generation that is farther removed from the communist years is healthier and less damaged.
The English camp that's taking place in the hotel is for these teenagers. It's one of about 80 camps that JOsiah Venture runs throughout Eastern Europe.
Now, this may not sound like a good place for a couple of old fogies who need their sleep to spend a few days, but it's actually quite wonderful. The way the English camps work is that a team from a church in the US (or maybe Canada or Ireland) provides the leadership. The participants come from a Czech congregation. So it's not simply a free-lance, send-your-kids-to-camp kind of thing, but a real church to church partnership.
The leadership team is from an Evangelical Free Church in Denver, Colorado. There are 18 mostly young adults who have come for a couple of weeks. They lead programming and worship, and work with the Czech kids in 3 English sessions per day. It's amazing how young people look and act the same wherever you go. The kids who are here are wonderful, friendly, enthusiastic and open.
But it's slow, patient work here in the Czech Republic. Diane overheard one of the leadership team say that about 1 out of every 50 kids they work with becomes a Christian. But I expect that God is also at work in unseen ways. What is being shared with these young people is the promise of something more than materialism and good news they can build their lives on.
I need a better camera!
We took the train from Prague to the small city of Frydlant nad Ostravici in eastern Moravia, then a cab to the Hotel Malenovice. It's a really wonderful facility on the side of a mountain, owned and operated by a KAM (Krestanska Academie Maldych), a Christian organization in the Czech Republic. It's the nicest hotel room we've stayed in yet, with a walk-in closet, air jet bathtub, fireplace, sitting room, double bed and balcony with an incredible view (below) that my dinky little camera just can't capture adequately.
We're here because (another long story) my friend in Hamilton, Greg Reader, knows Dave Patty who works for a mission organization in eastern Europe called Josiah Venture. Dave said we should come to Malenovice because there would be an English Camp going on this weekend. JV uses youth camps as a tool for outreach and the purpose of some of those camps, in addition to sharing the Gospel, is to give Czech kids a better knowledge of the English language. More on how that works in another posting.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Prague
Lots of people told us Prague was a beautiful city. Jim and Sabine Casson and Kareena Dainty-Edwards told us it was their favorite city. But nothing can really prepare you for its magnificence when you drive from the airport, come through a tunnel and suddenly see the city and the Vltava River with its bridges laid out before you.
Interesting Conversations
Tony and Carol arranged for some friends to come and enjoy their hospitality during our visit. And we were given the gift of hearing about some very interesting local ministry initiatives. Graham and Jill run a week long program called Holiday at Home for the 55+ crowd. Research indicates that by next year, half of the population of the UK will fall into this demographic. This outreach offers a week long vacation with the added benefit of your own bed at night. Morning worship, activities, catered meals and day trips provide opportunities for socializing, learning and growing in faith. It also eliminates the need to find a travel companion which often keeps people from going on trips.
Carol and Alastair attend Purley Baptist Church which has forged lots of community links and are now seeing those come to fruit as the church receives the critical planning permission for a building expansion. They have been gradually buying up all the commercial space in the triangle of land on which their current building sits. One storefront centre is running as a community youth centre with computers, pool table etc. The new purpose built church will be flanked by shops, affordable housing and various ministry outreaches. The congregation incorporates newcomers very quickly and places great trust in and high expectations on people, virtually from the start. And the results: huge missional energy, 90%of membership at worship, 70% in a small group.
John, a retired high ranking police officer heads up the local chapter of Street Pastors. This national organization with 120 chapters in action and 80 coming addresses the night time economy. These are Christians reccomended by their pastors, active in a local church who go out, in Street Pastor jackets, 10 pm to 4 am. in city and town centres to hand out water, arrange cabs, give flip flops to girls who have lost their shoes, pour oil on troubled waters. The pastors receive heavy prayer back up. Local councils provide funding for consumables and violent crime drops, substantially and reliably.
Carol and Alastair attend Purley Baptist Church which has forged lots of community links and are now seeing those come to fruit as the church receives the critical planning permission for a building expansion. They have been gradually buying up all the commercial space in the triangle of land on which their current building sits. One storefront centre is running as a community youth centre with computers, pool table etc. The new purpose built church will be flanked by shops, affordable housing and various ministry outreaches. The congregation incorporates newcomers very quickly and places great trust in and high expectations on people, virtually from the start. And the results: huge missional energy, 90%of membership at worship, 70% in a small group.
John, a retired high ranking police officer heads up the local chapter of Street Pastors. This national organization with 120 chapters in action and 80 coming addresses the night time economy. These are Christians reccomended by their pastors, active in a local church who go out, in Street Pastor jackets, 10 pm to 4 am. in city and town centres to hand out water, arrange cabs, give flip flops to girls who have lost their shoes, pour oil on troubled waters. The pastors receive heavy prayer back up. Local councils provide funding for consumables and violent crime drops, substantially and reliably.
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