Bergen

Life falls into a routine and the days pass more swiftly than they used to. Here I sit at 4:16 in the morning in Bergen, Norway, counting the minutes until I'll be relieved from my duty as hostel night-watch. It's fairly quiet, save for the tapping on the keyboard of one guest, Max, who is using the office computer. It seems strange to think that I've now been in Bergen for around four weeks-- I've become comfortable in this place and used to its quirks and oddities. One of these is the ever present light; it's not yet 4:30, but it has been growing steadily lighter since probably 2 AM. Another is the fact that as much as one loves the hostel guests, they leave: some sooner, some later. Some stay for but a day, others, such as our beloved Polish cleaners (Stan and Maciej) linger for several weeks. All leave eventually.

It's these guests that stay longer that have been the highlight of my trip thus far. While its wonderful to say "hi" and "bye" to the many folk that flow through our dormitory, relationships are hard to foster in a short-term environment. And it's relationships that are at the heart of YHM summer ministries, really. Yet with those few who have come, liked it here and thus chosen to extend their visit (or, in the case of Max, who have had their passport stolen and thus lost the ability to continue on) a real rapport can be developed. Through endless games of Risk and Texas Hold 'em Poker, during countless nights spent watching movies, and between the screams and helpless laughter of dance parties (not to mention games of "signs"), bonds of friendship have been built that we hope will bear gospel fruit. I can't say that we've taken Europe by storm-- I'm still hoping for one newspaper article -- but perhaps we'll leave a few Europeans closer to God, marveling that for some people Christ wasn't just a good person, He was a life-transformer. Hopefully many more will leave thinking that even though this rather blatantly Christian hostel was a little smelly, rather cramped, and all in all understandably under-priced; it was staffed by strangely nice young people, who engaged their guests intentionally, cooking food, washing dishes, and playing games of charades that were fun, even if they included a mother pig giving birth on stage at a rock-concert. And that's the true heart of YHM, I think.

Vienna, Bergen, Mittersill and... Bergen again.

Deepest apologies to you, my readers, as I have not updated for a very long time. For the past few weeks I've been in places that either have no internet, have internet that must be paid for, or have internet that doesn't work well. The last of these problems I have just managed to fix (resetting the router, reattaching the dsl cables and doing other things that I have limited knowledge of seemed to work).

So, I must update. Unfortunately, what happened in Salzberg and Vienna was so long ago, that at this point I'm going to skip ahead to Bergen and Mittersill, the last two destinations of our trip.

Vienna was beautiful, but the most awesome (and hectic) events transpired on the last night that we stayed there. It was Sunday, and we went to one of the few English services in the entire city. It's amazing how few churches there are in Europe, of any denomination and even religion. According to my "research" (which admittedly is composed of stuff I have read online and conversations with people), there are exactly two evangelical deonominations in Austria. This shortage of denominations has nothing to do with unity. Anyhow, theEnglish service that we went to was interesting, partly because of the emphasis on the Holy Spirit and the sign gifts-- a practice that some of us were not familiar or necessarily comfortable with. Indeed, this has seemed to be one of the prevailing patterns of our church contact in Europe, a refreshing taste of the non-American Church that sometimes raises warning flags nonetheless. I've come to be much more skeptical of those who say that the sign gifts are dead-- I wonder if "cessationists" don't experience the Holy Spirit in same way simply because they don't expect to. At the same time, I've learned to value the words of 1 John 4:3 in a new way. Those who claim power from the Holy Spirit, but use it to glorify themselves (even in roundabout ways, and even if they do "confess Christ")-- of these I am extremely skeptical. Those who use the power of the Holy Spirit to place Christ in the center-- with these I rejoice in the power that has been granted.

Anyhow, but back to my story. So the church was interesting, but also extremely welcoming. They gave us some food which was a blessing, especially since we were starving. Afterwards, we invited one of the younger members of the Church, Joel, to come and eat with us ('cause we were still hungry). Having been warned of our ever-present budget concerns, he led us to a cheap burger place where we ate and fellowshipped. Afterwards, four of us walked back with him to the train station. Right before we got there, however, he asked for a second and ducked inside a building. He emerged with two 50 euro bills that he presented to us, telling us that perhaps now we could eat a little better in Norway (which is pretty much the most expensive place in the world). We thanked him rather profusely and departed to sleep.

Our flight left the next morning at 9:30, and we were an hour and a half by tram away from the Airport. Thus, we set our alarms for 4:30 to give us ample time to pack and make it through airport security. At 4:30, Summer's alarm went off and I woke up. Three other voices yelled at whoevers alarm was going off. Summer apologized and turned off her alarm. I rolled over and sank into a peaceful sleep. Needless to say, we woke up at 8:30, an hour before we were set to leave. Having packed in about 2.5 minutes, we ordered a taxi to the airport and rushed away. Or at least half of us did. The other three (Kaitie, Summer and myself) stayed behind while the next taxi came. 10 minutes later, it still had not come. Even when it did come, the driver was lethargic and slowly loaded are bags in. I soon cured him of this (nicely, of course...err.), and soon we were careening through the vienna highways-- the speedometer read 180 at some points(not as impressive once one considers that it was in kilometers per hour, but still...). We made the 35 minute trip in about 20 minutes and arrived at the airport 25 minutes before our flight was to leave. We tore through airport security-- katie and summer literally dived through a crowd of German soldiers-- and were the last ones to board our flight-- five minutes before it left. The other three were anxiously awaiting our arrival, sure that they would have to fly to Bergen without us. After we collected ourselves we realized that we had paid the taxies with the only money that we had on hand-- Joel's 50 euro bills. The total cost of the taxies? Just over 93 euros. The hand of God was so evident, even in the fact that he gave us two fifties, not a hundred that we couldn't break.

We arrived at Bergen safely and fine, but our bags did not. Four of our bags (clothes, toiletries etc.) had been left behind in Vienna (apparently we had cleared security too late for them to get on our flight). Having given descriptions of our bags, we claimed our complementary travel packages that included a toothbush, toothpaste that tasted like hand lotion, an XL white T-shirt that stretched so much that it fit me nicely and probably would have fit your local Sumo wrestler as well. We arrived at the hostel and were immediately taken out for an incredible meal at a traditional Norwegian restauraunt where I ate caviar, shrimp heads, a reindeer fillet and part of a whalesteak. It was all amazing, except for maybe the shrimp heads, which were passable. The next few days we spent putting together 63 bunk beds, all of which stack three high. We filled a gigantic room full of them and then cleaned the hostel from top to bottom. Soon the guests started to file in and we were busy putting them in their beds and taking care of their needs.

During this first week in Norway, I had a few good conversations and witnessing opportunities with the guests but the best part of our week was being around Christians again. After countless difficult witnessing scenarios across central Europe, the presence of other Christians with whom one could be completely open and honest and not feel the pressure of being the example of "Christianity" 24/7 was a welcome change. Its interesting that for all the people that I've run across in Europe, I've still met few people who I know give me grace for my faults as readily as Christians. To be sure, part of this is because of our common bonds and understanding of the faith-- being in the same boat breeds grace, I tend to think, but all the same, grace is a wonderful thing.

Soon after this, however, we had to head off to Mittersill, Austria for the mid-summer retreat. We had helped to set up the hostel and now we had to take our break. We stayed in a Christian conference center, that also happened to be a gorgeous old castle. While there I climbed a large mountain, probably the biggest that I've ever climbed in my life. At the top, it was about 6400 feel above sea level and the vertical ascent was about 4000 feet in about 3 miles. It was a very steep climb, compounded by the fact that I was wearing the same Nike shoes that I've now worn for the past year and a half-- the soles are completely flat. It also didn't help that though 70 degrees at the base, the top was probably negative 10 windchill and the last mile or so we hiked through 3 inches of snow. Midway up, I ate a three inch long salamander for thirty dollars and kicks. The rest of the week we spent exploring the castle (playing "sardines" in an old abandoned castle is fun and takes FOREVER.

Anyhow, I'll try to update about Bergen again soon now that I have internet again.

I uploaded a bunch of photos to facebook-- check them out. If you don't have a facebook account then check your kids'. If your kids don't have one, create one for them. If you don't have kids, create your own-- it's really the best photo-sharing tool in the history of the world.

God Bless.

Munich, Prague, Salzberg and Vienna.

So it's been a while since I posted. I'm sorry. There's a few reasons for this. Bad internet is one; the other is a limiting of contact with the "outside" world that I'm trying to enforce. It's rather important to live and exist in the place that I'm at-- writing every few days back home is not the best way to do that. But anyhow, on to the update.

Europe has been overwhelming, amazing, and difficult. It seems almost silly to continue to take pictures of all of the amazing places that we've been. 300 pictures of me in front of one building, statue or monument seems rather redundant, no matter the scale and grandiosity that these places boast. Hopefully, I'll be able to upload some pictures fairly soon, until then you'll have to content yourselves with imagination.

I guess I'll go through with a general description of each place that we've visited and tell a little of what I myself have done.

Munich

Munich is a beautiful city. It also happens to be the beer capital of the world. Every night, swarms of people descend on the bars and pubs, creating a riotous mass of excited and generally aggressive people, most of whom wake up the next morning with only a vague idea of what they did the night before. This fact, in my opinion, is one of the main reasons that people never get tired of getting trashed-- it's always a new experience! Anyhow, the hostel that we stayed at just happened to be the party hostel of the city. The bar in the hostel served drinks until four A.M. and the hundred or so people crammed into the small area surrounding said establishment didn't head off to bed until even later. For those of you who know me, this is not the environment that I am most comfortable in. The guys aren't generally interested in talking to someone of the same gender, the girls are, but only as long as A. you are willing to buy them drinks... and B. you are hitting on them like like a buck in springtime (as long as you have a semblance of sophistication as well). Sharing the gospel in this environment was not easy for me (the girls had more success as guys would approach them and be willing talk with them about probably anything). Nonetheless, I was able to have some good conversations in Munich, especially with a young American named Amit. If I remember correctly, he was an Indian, and he stumbled upon our team time. He was a very "scientifically minded" man-- perhaps one could classify him as modernist. Traipsing over the city with him, Griffin and I were able to clearly (I hope) lay out the gospel message and discuss with him some of his thoughts on God. He didn't sound as if he had much in the way of firm beliefs although it could have just been him being polite. We left him with two books, Blue Like Jazz (which I recently re-read and have come to appreciate an immense amount) and Mere Christianity. Anyhow, you, my readers can pray for him...

We also visited the concentration camp at Dachau, a sobering experience.

Prague (or Praha)

Prague, the capital of the Czeche Republic, has had about 50 years of independence in the past 1000 years. Perhaps this is why the people seemed kind of rude-- maybe we seemed like a new kind of invader. And perhaps we were. Luckily, Prague is in Central Europe, and Central Europe is cheap. More than that, Central Europe is not nearly as polished looking, which made me feel more comfortable. Still the city was stunning with cathedrals, castles and bridges in abundance. Evangelism was much more chill in Prague, as we wandered around with two Catholics from Gonzaga University and I talked with a cute German couple over a few games of cards. Religion in Europe is a consciously personal thing. It's great to talk about, but to push it on others is a decidedly awkward thing. It's very hard to get past the "that's good for you but it's not for me" mentality. America is little different I suppose, but not as drastically so. Really, the most effective evangelism style is relational, which is hard to do when spending only a couple days in each city. We're throwing the gospel out there, but we aren't cultivating our soil very well beforehand. I'll be glad to get to Bergen, where we'll have over a month to build relationships and actually share life. That's what I like best.


I think that I'll leave Salzberg and Vienna for later-- we've barely begun to process Vienna. One final note is prayer request for our team. We're all very different people: we process life and relate to each other in very different ways and while beautiful at times, it can also create conflict. Perhaps it only highlights the absolute dependency on the grace of God that must define our lives. Unity is a necessity, especially in evangelism (the high priestly prayer of Christ in John comes to mind). So pray for us.

"Calling God's Bluff" or "why God would rock at poker"

Well, life has been interesting. Due to a lack of internet (especially free internet) getting directions to different hostels in Europe has fairly difficult, let alone finding time to update this blog. 

Now, however, we have arrived in Munich Germany and we have free (and working) wi-fi. So I'll update you on our travels, and note a small interesting story of my own (from whence the title of this post originates).

Amsterdam was interesting, to say the least. The Hostel that we stayed at was located in the heart of the infamous red-light district. During the day, tourists and children crowded the streets, gawking at the bars and showrooms... and at the pimps selling their wares. At night, the clientele changed. Young men stalked the streets, along with older couples and newly weds. The explicitness and absolute shamelessness of it all became more intense. I had expected that at night, it would be creepy old men, and male tourists who dominated the streets, but oddly enough, the demographic was still broad. It was all very surreal and chilling how normal (and vaguely interesting) people treated the entire matter. Young children still ran in and out of doorways, and young girls chatted amiably up and down the side streets, passing massage parlors, erotic museums and more. I think that I would have preferred it more had it been all young men. The cultural nonchalance was far more disturbing.

The hostel itself was wonderful though. A self proclaimed christian hostel, it shined like a beacon of hope through the revelry. We talked with a few people in the few short hours that we stayed in the hostel. One of them was a man named Oscar. Having fallen out of work due to the economic hardships in Spain, he had left his wife and children, and traveled to Amsterdam to find work. Though very friendly, he didn't see the life of radical discipleship that Christ offers as something for himself. One thing that he asked us was if we were as crazy as the people who staffed the hostel-- openly Christian, and fanatical. It was tempting to say no, that we were moderate-- perhaps it would allow us more opportunities later... Instead, however, we claimed our fanaticism boldly (while being quick to separate ourselves from what he often thinks of as fanaticism, such as the Godhatesfags church). Last I heard, following Jesus is still not something that he desires, but I hope that his surroundings soon change that. Over and over again he would tell us how nice all the Christians were, an encouraging note to leave on.

After Amsterdam, we traveled to Luxembourg, a beautiful city in between France and Germany. Everyone seemed to speak English, French and German with remarkable aplomb. We stayed at a cheap Hotel the first night since the hostels were all booked. It was there that I had a rather interesting experience. As I was getting into bed(having just lost most of my clothing), I was happened to look out the window, where I saw a rather curly headed young woman laughing in a corner bar. At that moment, I felt God nudge me to go and talk to her about Christ. My response of course, was "are you serious God? This is a bad time!" So I sat down on the side of my bed to pray instead-- a rather holy activity that might satisfy my nagging conscience. Five minutes later, having been unable to pray (because of that nagging conscience), I looked out the window again and decided the cut a deal with God. "God,"I thought, "if you want me to talk to her, make her come outside the bar where I can speak to her." I waited for a while. Once it became clear that the woman was not going to come outside, I decided that maybe some faith was needed-- I would put on my clothes before she came outside. So I put on my pants, and then my shirt... Finally I laced up my shoes and looked out the window. Still nothing happened. So naturally, I went outside to wait for her. "God" I thought one final time, "we made a deal, and if you don't send her out, then I figure that it must be a sign that you don't want me to talk to her." It seemed logical enough to me, except that my conscience wouldn't leave me alone. I waited outside for what seemed forever, and finally summoned enough courage to make it in the bar door. Walking through the smoky haze, I spotted the young woman (for she was young) and asked her a simple question: "Do you know who Jesus Christ is?"

"Pardon me?" (which meant she spoke some English, I figured)

"Well," I stuttered, "it's just that I was trying to sleep next door when I God told me to come talk to you, and so I came over-- it's all very strange to me, but I want you to know that God and Jesus Christ his son love you, no matter the mistakes you've made-- I mean, I've made a whole lot of them" I finished lamely.  Then I proceeded to lay a very quick gospel message down, turned around and went back to my hotel and went to sleep. It all seemed very surreal in the morning, and I might have thought it a dream, except that my shirt absolutely reeked of tobacco (and probably other drugs). 

Anyhow, it all just goes to show you that you shouldn't try to play games with God, because he can call your bluff a lot more easily than you can His...

The rest of our stay in Luxembourg was great... We talked to a few more people, and had some really great conversations. Continue to pray for the people that we meet and that opportunities would arise (or that we'd have the courage to make our own).

I, a Sojourner.

Welcome to my summer blog! Hopefully, this will be an easy way for you to partake in my adventures as I roam around Europe and then settle for over a month in Bergen Norway. I hope to upload pictures and thoughts on a semi-consistent basis for the two months that I'll be out of the states.

First, however, a note on the title of my blog, and I how it relates to my trip this summer. I named this blog "tarry, a sojourners repose" because I see this trip as a temporary break from my "life". This is not to say that I don't see this trip as important. Let that never be! Rather, I see this trip as akin to a journey into Narnia. One is called into Narnia by Aslan with a specific goal in mind-- to save some king in distress or to defeat some evil witch (and sometimes both), but the real purpose of the trip is to learn life lessons and (more importantly) to grow into a better knowledge and relationship with God-- things that are taken back into one's own world. Just like Peter and Lucy (or perhaps more fittingly, Eustace Scrubb) I am to be Sojourner-- a temporary inhabitant-- in Europe.

Likewise, I hope that while I'm tarrying and sojourning in Europe, you'll be sojourning on my blog, taking a repose from your life. I know that God has incredible things in store for me this summer. I hope that you'll get a taste of it here.