The State of Humanity

I sometimes feel as though I receive far more than I deserve. In reality, the only thing I have "accomplished" is schoolwork. In reality, the only thing I have "given", is friendship. Neither of these demand recognition or payment, hospitality or service. I am not great at anything, and I struggle (at least internally) through most. And despite often feeling as though I need to prove myself, I have received far more respect, honor, and grace than I could ever come close to deserving in a lifetime.

So a friend of mine was talking today, as usual, about the state of humanity - the state of society. He is almost always negative about it, fearing for the end of civilization as we know it. But in the face of yet another time of being humbled in the face of others' grace, I am unwilling to go there. There is evil in this world; I have come to expect sin. But hospitality is also alive. Faith is active. Respect is present. And it's because of this reality that I am who I am and I have received what I have. Humanity might not be on the fastest track to utopia (however that is defined), but it surely has an undying hope and drive to it. And for the individuals who have aimed, at least in part, their hope and hospitality towards me, I am profoundly grateful.

Just Do It

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about forgiveness lately. It seems as though people tend to categorize forgiveness as something that is black and white. Julie stole my pen, I forgive her, all is well. It is simply something that we “do”. We’re taught it from birth and, while a “good” explanation of what it is doesn’t ever really come around, we talk about it as if we have one. Perhaps it’s yet another thing that is like the wind; we can’t see it or really define it, but we know it’s there and we know the consequences of it. But for all of this uncertainty, there are some strong beliefs as to its consequences; much more far-reaching than getting over the fact that someone stole my favorite pen, many of us see this one, simple action as supposedly able to immediately cure all anger, mend all relationships, and be the cornerstone to world peace. If only we could all forgive one another our faults, the world would be a much better place.

Perhaps this is true and my cynicism has reached new lengths. And as someone who has been on the receiving end of great feats of forgiveness, I know what a powerful thing it truly is. But it seems to me that “forgiveness” is more than simply “forgiveness”; and it also seems to me that in order to even attempt this phenomenon of forgiveness, we have to know what it is that we’re supposed to be forgiving in the first place.

I ran into this problem when I was told that I was supposed to “forgive him” – I think specifically in relation to one person, but an entire host of situations were also referenced. I felt offended, wronged even. Not only is this person not aware of what has all happened, but I knew that part of this “situation” involved not only “him”, but the person ordering me to forgive, and also me. If we are truly going to go down this path, then a lot more than the actions of one person need to be sorted out. But I thought about what she said to me anyway, and now I don’t know what to do with it. Forgiveness is something that is good, but I don’t know that I can actually do it – and I truly mean can. The benefits of forgiving people and situations far outweigh those of maintaining pride and defensiveness. But I don’t know, exactly, what it is that I’m forgiving. The more I examine the “situation”, the more I don’t know what the “cause” of it all is. And the technical actions that spurred the anger? Symptoms. Is it possible to “forgive” symptoms? And if it is, is that what we should be focusing on anyway?

So ok. Maybe I don’t have a clear definition. I should therefore simply “forgive” all related things and people as a whole and go on with my happy life, yes? I don’t think it works that way. Rather than a simple decision, isn’t forgiveness an ongoing, active commitment to creating something new out of the scars? It’s not to forget what has happened, it’s not to condone it, it’s not to force one and all to start back at square one. But isn’t it a continued relationship with all involved and attempts at understanding and growth? That, I think, is what forgiveness is. It will never be perfect, it will never be simple or clearly defined; but it is the reality of hurt reconciliation.

So yes, I have angry bitterness and deep hurt and an incredible lack of understanding. But I am continuing to try, and I have an overall sense of joy. I have not forgiven in the sense of completely “letting it go”, but I have forgiven in the sense of allowing those who have wronged me (including myself) the privilege of informing my life and work and faith. I am honoring one and all involved by using the years of hurt to understand myself and the world and God more accurately; I am using it to affect much-needed change within myself.

Perhaps it’s a both/and. The continued hurt is needed to prompt the continued struggle and process of understanding. But the “simple” forgiveness is needed to even begin that process of reconciliation. Maybe I can “just do it”. Too bad many things are easier said than done, especially when no instruction manual is given.

Silly Putty

Well, I’ve moved back to the land of entire aisles filled only with different types of shampoo, where driving on the interstate is scary (seriously, I drove for the first time in a year last night and I was afraid), where everyone (or mostly everyone) speaks English but no one rides a bike, and I can get groceries at 7:00 in the morning or at midnight and on a SUNDAY, if I wanted to. And my poor room-mate has had to answer questions like, “how much do you tip at a restaurant?” and “can I turn right on a red light?”, and they’ve been asked in all seriousness. I’m not sure how I feel about that. Crappy, inside-gut-turning, mostly.

Or maybe it’s similar to feeling like silly putty. In the past week – or in the past month, really – I feel like I’ve been stretched, pulled, snapped, bounced, and molded into all sorts of crazy shapes. My supervisors and the secretary at my church left for a month and I was there alone, they came back and all of a sudden internship was over, my sister got engaged, my financial situation changed drastically, I had to say “auf wiedersehen” in the midst of some of the most wonderful relationships I have ever had, I flew back from Germany and am dealing with jet-lag and a “new” culture, my entire life is sitting in boxes in my living room, and I’m trying to figure out what it means to start my previous relationships up again. I’m the same color, I have the same mannerisms and the same name... but I feel like some kid is using my life as a toy. I keep experiencing all of these changes, but I’m not able to understand them, I’m not able to control them; I simply fold like silly putty.

But at the same time, it doesn’t just work that way. Humans think, question, are stubborn, resist change, and generally have the need to understand and comprehend. To make sense of things. Changes will come and surprises will occur, but they’re not always taken as exciting new things to add to the wonder of life. They’re difficult and come with a lot of pain. There’s a required, if not unconscious, process of transformation that happens. Instead of being like silly putty and simply changing from one form to the next, the old informs the new; it influences it for better or worse. A day cannot be taken back and an experience can’t be relived; a previous shape cannot be made again. So while the appearance of the person may stay exactly the same, and many of the personality traits remain intact, the substance alters. And when something new - when a “different” person – enters back into an “old” situation, it doesn’t work very well. What once felt right and comfortable, now feels overwhelming and a bit frightening. And it’s exciting, too; it’s a chance to understand life from a new perspective; it’s fun to remember how much certain people mean to you. And in my particular instance, I have the wonderful luxury of having a year to reflect and question and try to come to an understanding of what has happened and how I can use it for both the present and the future. And not only to do that, but to do that among and with friends. But still, sometimes it would be nice if we humans had more of the properties of silly putty. The changes, though interesting (if not exciting), would many times be a bit easier if we were capable of simply fitting into the mold we were currently asked to fit.

Kongeriket Noreg

This whole year I've heard people talk about Canada and have seriously started to consider moving there after graduation. It's supposed to be this mixture of the States and Europe, which would be perfect for me. And the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Canada trades pastors with the ELCA, so no problem there, either. Maybe I'd try to get placed in Vancouver.

However. Last night, in one of my wonderful evenings with a non-church friend (Yay for geographically-close-non-church friends, by the way. This one, at least, provides my sanity.), I was shown this video. He's Norwegian, and tells me that everything in here is true and also that he's never actually heard of anyone getting the 21-year sentence that is mentioned. Oh, and one thing that's not mentioned in the video: their biggest problem? The country has too much money (Seriously. Mainly because the state owns their all of their oil fields.). It's like fairy-tale land.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=YxLag-EXiZk

I'm moving to Norway.

Strike!

Berlin has 3 major modes of public transportation: buses, the U-Bahn (subway), and the S-Bahn (street train). Since August or so, the S-Bahn has been trying to gain a completely new contract, and did so by asking for a 30-something% raise, which they knew they wouldn't get but thought it would force people to draft a new one. So there were many days over many weeks when it wasn't running. And other than having all of the buses and U-Bahns delayed because of traffic overload (Berlin is a city of 3.5 million), it didn't matter to me much personally that this was happening. Although, many people just don't ever use their cars because it's easier to take public transportation or because of the environment (they actually care about that over here :-P). So having this traffic-insanity just causes a lot of accidents.

However. Today both the bus and the U-Bahn workers decided to also go on strike. And I rely almost entirely on their services. The S-Bahn is running, but it's a 20 minute walk to the nearest station, and even then it doesn't get me anywhere close to the church office.

The amazing thing in all of this is that, while it makes life substantially more difficult for the vast majority of Berliners, no one seems incredibly upset about it. The general opinion is that this is something that the transportation workers need to fight for, and so they will fight with them. They will drive their cars for a while or find alternate routes to work or some such thing. This is great; it shows solidarity, pressing for workers' rights and fair wages, which theoretically helps the economy (and Berlin, as a city, is completely bankrupt), etc., etc. But it's hard to be excited about that when, in an effort to help their work situation, I can't even get to mine. Well, I can. I just have to ride my bike. And riding a bike in Berlin is just a whole other story for a whole other time...

Die alten Männer

So apparently I have the tendencies of an old man. On my way to work, I walk over a bridge that crosses some S-Bahn (street train) tracks. And almost directly under this bridge, they are building a new station. It will make traveling for many, many people much more convenient (I, unfortunately, am not one of those people). But now that the weather is starting to warm up - and by that I mean starting to remain in the 40's - they have started pouring cement and actually building this station. I find this work fascinating, and would love to watch them do this. However, the old men of the community have already beat me to it. As long as the construction workers are busy, there are at least 3 men standing at the railing and looking down. Now, I suppose I could join them, but I haven't been able to bring myself to do that. Which is sad, because it would probably be a great deal of fun and, as someone in my class said yesterday, speaking a foreign language with "old people" is the best thing to do, because they are patient. I'm not sure that that really holds true, but I'm sure these men would be excited. But then again, I wouldn't want to be a distraction to their daily fun...

Many-Sided Tug-of-War

Recently, I've had no idea how to put my thoughts and feelings into words. Or, perhaps more appropriately, I have no idea what my thoughts and feelings are. There is a mass of colors and movements and undercurrents and angles of light that are all mixed together and I have no idea how to separate them out. I am moving and being moved, but I have no idea how or where or why. My supervisor, since the very beginning of my internship, has advocated the learning of what it means to live in community. At first, I thought that he simply meant listening to others, living with them, learning to live in forgiveness. And I'm sure that's part of it. But the more I think about it, the more I come to believe that it also means learning how to work towards an understanding of the community, the world, and God. Because since coming to Berlin and living in this particular community, my ability to self-differentiate, understand God, and think about life has been both greatly diminished and also opened up beyond imagination. This community has overwhelmed me in so many ways that I don't know what to think or where to go. I have nothing to say, and everything to say. I just don't know how.

There are many here who are marked by living during the time of the Berlin wall. And it affects every part of their being. One woman remarks on that time and then about the other tragedies around the world and wonders where God is. But in the next breath looks around at creation and comments that she doesn't understand how anyone can deny the existence of God. Some were protesters at the wall. Many have had to learn Russian and have tried hard to forget it. Another actually is Russian. Others are from Africa, some who are here because of the politics in their regions. Many started out as asylum seekers. Several others are here to try to "make it" in the entertainment and music scene. And then I believe 20% of Berlin is unemployed; we reflect that statistic. With all of their life situations, there are some who participate in the church, but I have no idea why, because they have made it known that they don't actually believe that God loves them. Others really believe that God has life planned out for them and their community. And yet still others believe that if they are only faithful enough, then God will be "faithful" in return; only, they can't say what they mean when they talk about the faithfulness of God.

In all of this, where am I? I have been called to learn from them, to listen to them, to preach to them, to love them. But I don't know what that means. In theory, it appears to be very easy, especially when one is strong in their beliefs and convictions. But to preach the gospel to a people that you so deeply love; to preach the gospel to a people that are so varied and diverse - what does that look like? For that matter, what does learning from them look like? One can't just take in all the information and leave it there. But where to put it and how to understand it is a task that I have no instructions for.

I suppose it is continuing to ask questions and not be put off by the quest. I suppose it is realizing that curiosity and ambiguity work together. I suppose it is understanding that the questions are more important than the answers and knowing that it is God's faith that provides the questions in the first place.

Skyscrapers and Spiderwebs

It's amazing what people will tell you. Something that I worried about before starting internship was being so dense that I would miss everything that was "happening" at the church. I really thought that I would be too blind to see all of the background politics that were flowing and too blind to see the veins of the spiderweb of relations there. But I was wrong. It's impossible to miss. These "spiderwebs" are more like skyscrapers with neon, flashing lights. Why? Because people just flat-out tell you what they are.

My supervisor believes that the church is the only place where people can work out their unresolved family issues. I thought that was an interesting comment, and am coming to agree with him. Not only am I finding out who (for better or worse) are personifying my own family members and issues to me, but I am learning who the "parents" of this congregation are - not by their actions, but by the various "children" literally telling me who they are. The "grandparents" are especially interesting, as they are the ones who used to run the show, but now find themselves in this peculiar time of life where they have been left behind by their children, are still in great need of belonging and having something to contribute yet feeling that they've already done their part, and finding themselves incapable of doing what they once did. The young ones aren't taken seriously. And the middle-aged ones are so lost as to how to balance their life and their faith that they continue to act and act and act, all the while never knowing what it is that they're doing. It's absolutely fascinating. And terrifying. All at the same time.

It's so crazy to me that the church manages to stay together. In just the past week, I have talked with people who (because of their life circumstances) need worship to be one way. Another person (with equally compelling reasons) needs worship to be almost the exact opposite. One person feels entirely left out of the community and is crying out; not for attention to be specifically placed on her, but for "others" to create a better sense of "community". Another needs to be left alone and can't understand this woman's need for a defined place. And yet somehow, all of these people come together and call ACB home. All of them arrive on a Sunday morning and expect to receive grace, forgiveness, and love - not only from the sermon and the service, but - from everyone else there. They all gather around the table together. Even though they sometimes come with deeply rooted fears, insecurities, distrusts, and angers.

I guess, in a way, skyscrapers are more manageable than spiderwebs, because they are easier to see and they generally have signs on them as to who built and occupies them. They just hurt more when you run into them.

Ecclesiastes

There are some things that just cannot be explained. Cannot be understood. No amount of curiosity, brilliance, or analytical skill will ever be a match for them. They are things that can only be walked out, lived out, or slept out, so to speak. One just has to keep walking, keep living, keep sleeping. It's not even a faith thing. There is no faith that "it will work out" or "be ok" or "it will come". Because faith has nothing to do with it. They just are. The most insecure and helpless of people physically and emotionally survive the "worst" of tragedies. The most independent collapse at the first hint shaky ground. The most generous and caring people are despised and the most cold-hearted, loved. Hopes, that are so deep that those who hold them don't even understand them, never come to pass even after years of struggle. Random ideas that occur happen with hardly a second thought. And yet, the opposite of these are true as well. We hear the stories of those who hope against hope and, after a lifetime of waiting, receive their joy. The people who go and do according to their own wishes and desires, and not those of anyone else, are happy and overcome seemingly impossible obstacles. And the aloof are left in their own misery.

What is the "rule"? There is none. Some hopes, some efforts, some actions may be more "rational" than others, but really, there is no knowing the outcome. Our best educated guesses turn out to be incorrect. Our actions that we do out of pure folly end up being the best moments of our lives. And only those who have thought their actions through survive. So in all of this, what is there to keep us from joining the Ecclesiastical writer and saying that "everything is meaningless, a chasing after the wind"?

Why I love Berlin

1. The traffic light men. Former East Germany had the now-famous "Ampelmänner", or "traffic light men". They're awesome. Hopefully a picture soon to come.

2. The beauracracy. I've already waited a whole morning to be registered with the Rathaus, and a day and a half with the transportation people. Up next is the "foreigner's office". From what I hear, that could take up to 3 days.

3. Speaking of the transportation people (the BVG)...my friend/colleague/native-German took me to get a student transportation pass. We arrived at the first place. They were still open, but wouldn't let us get in line because a co-worker was ill and they were going to shut down. We walked to the next station...which didn't have an office. Rode the S-Bahn to the next and they had closed 5 minutes before. The next day we go to a different office (after my getting lost on the way there), and found out that we needed yet another signature on an already signature-saturated paper, AND an "official" stamp. We go back to the office to get the pastor's signature - he wasn't there. So we sat and drank coffee until he got back. We went to yet a different station and it took all of 20 seconds to get my pass.

4. The phone companies. They send out a general phone bill once a month, yes? Well, if you want a detailed one, you must first pay €15. Now, if you request them on future bills, it's free. But to find out why certain charges are on a current bill, you must pay first.

5. Alles in Ordnung. We are having the front of the church painted. They started right before I got here, so I still haven't seen the altar area because it's completely covered. But, in order to have this done, not only the painters had to come for a meeting, but the electrician, the heating company, and some other people. The reason? The painters didn't want to paint by the electrical sockets. They actually moved "things" (?) around so the painters didn't have to worry about it.

6. Today I met the ambassador. From the United States to Germany. Now, one can say what they want about Bush or the administration or why various people have become ambassadors. BUT, one still can't deny that it's fun that I met him and various other diplomats from other countries.

So transition might not be the most fun time in life, but there are definitely some fun advantages to this particular one...