The Forgetful Church: An Update

There are two major differences between my last little experiment concerning prophecy and this one. One being that this venture is in a language I am unfamiliar with. Thus, it much more difficult for me to draw conclusions about what I see since I don’t know what people are talking about. And the second is that I have many more responsibilities here on the ship that can get in the way of me actually fulfilling my objectives than compared to back home; hence the somewhat delayed update.

After several false starts and booked up Sunday mornings, I finally was able to get out to the Sct. Nicolai Kirke (the church out in the center of town). The Sunday I had chosen also happened to be one I was not allowed to leave the ship; not allowed to leave, that is, unless I found a person to fill my stand-by watch keeper role while I was ashore. I found someone, informed the authorities, and headed out on foot at 9:25 am.

At 9:30 am the church bells began to ring. They began to ring and I had just crossed the street to head into town. I must have left closer to 9:27. At any rate, I was late. I began to feel as though I was back in school and as I was walking to class, the bell began to ring. My reaction is one of, “Oh crap! The bell’s ringing,” and, also like in school, not to walk any faster.

As I got to the door of the church, the bells stopped. Good timing I guess. I stepped inside because it was bitter cold out. The “lobby”, for the lack of a better term, was empty. Obviously, all the people were already inside doing whatever it is Danish people do in church. I decided to wait and see if anyone else would arrive late. I wasn’t terribly late, just 3 or 4 minutes, and someone else would have to be late as well.

Turns out there was. A lady strolled in with a stroller complete with child and I saw a tremendous opportunity. She couldn’t handle the door to the sanctuary by herself; not with child stroller in hand. I’d go and hold it open for her, then I could slip in behind. Awesome.

I did this. I opened the door, she said, “Tak (thank you)”, and I looked inside. Completely empty. Not a single person besides the lady, the child, and me. This could be awkward I thought. Turns out it wasn’t entirely; the service didn’t actually start at 9:30 like I thought. The church only opened its doors at 9:30; the service was at 10. Lucky me, half hour early. I exchanged uneasiness with the person handing out the Danish hymnals (I not speaking Danish and she thinking I spoke Danish) and looked for a seat. (So many to choose from!)

Turns out this is not your normal seat looking routine either. The pews were situated in a fashion I had never seen before. There were 4 columns of them and in each row was a door leading to a booth of some kind. One bench was facing the front and the other the back. These were the pews, little booths with doors. It was like being in a restaurant minus the table; you might even be able to get a good supply of communion wine if you were good.

This type of seating allowed for some good observing. One observation I made was that of the children in the audience. They all sat with their respective adult chaperones (although I did find out at the end that there was a designated toy area in the back of the church for the little ones. Guess where I’ll be next week?) and the most peculiar behavior. It looked so familiar to me. In fact it almost looked like either I was imitating them or they were imitating me. They looked like they had no idea what was going on. The service was in Danish; I had no idea what was going on. Any small distraction immediately caught their eye and the same went for me. It was nice to be reacting to things on a 4 year old level again.

The children were again involved at a later point in the service. There was a child’s baptism and the minister called all the young children to the front to watch; they were of course accompanied by their parents. This was also interesting to observe. With all the tradition in the church up until this point, it seemed strange that the children would be involved in such a way. I guess it shows the church places particular importance on children.

One thing that happed during the service was a lot of, what seemed like, standing up and sitting down. Seeing how I couldn’t understand any words that were spoken, I couldn’t really catch why we would stand up when we did, and we only sat down when the minister gently moved his hands in a downward motion near his midsection. I tried to gauge if it was for songs or prayers or what, but one song we’d be sitting and then the next we’d stand. He’d be talking and in the middle we’d all stand up, then, still in the middle, sit back down. No rhyme or reason that I could detect. Maybe it was to keep people awake?

Overall it was a good first experience. I wasn’t completely shunned or mistaken as a tourist barging in on their religious ceremony. I even felt a little welcomed with my awkward exchange when I first entered the sanctuary. The pipe organ and choir accompanying the whole service was awesome. The minister would say something and the choir and organ would respond musically and then the minister would keep on going. It made for a pretty cool and interesting atmosphere.

Tune in for thoughts on this coming Sunday’s service where I brave the sub-zero (Celsius) temperatures and see if a church built in the 13^th century has a satisfactory heating system.

The Forgetful Church: An Intro

Europe is known for a few things. One thing that usually comes to mind is old churches. Well, Køge, Denmark is no exception. In the center of town is a very old church. It’s said it was built in the 1300’s. According to the all knowing source of Wikipedia, its tower doubled as Denmark’s first lighthouse in the 1500’s. Imagine that, a church literally being light to the community.

However, it seems that at some point the church in Denmark, Europe really, lost its glow. I’m not sure if church history here is so deep that people just wanted a break or what, but the church is dying. More and more people have decided that God no longer plays a pivotal role in their lives.

What does it mean, “the church is dying?” I think it’s worth investigating. I actually, come to think of it, don’t really care for this terminology. A church dying? Doesn’t that imply that at some point it will be dead? How can the church die? Here’s how I see it. The church is the “physicalization” (I made up a word, I know) of Jesus. It’s His bride. In a sense, it’s under His ownership. So how can it die? Perhaps it’s more accurate to say that the church has lost its identity. It’s forgotten it’s the bride of Christ. It has forgotten it’s “physicalizationism” (this is just getting worse). So, the church here in Europe has just forgotten who it is.

This church in Denmark, this very old one in the center of town, is very hard to miss. We can see its tower from the ship. Wherever you go in town, you can see the tower. It is how I know which way I’m going when I walk somewhere new. If you go into any small western/central European village, this will likely be the case; a large church that designates direction for disoriented tourists. So, it’s easy to dismiss these buildings as actual representations of Jesus. After all aren’t they just historical markers or cultural hotspots? I believe no.

Therefore, I feel I have been asked to be a part of this church here in Køge. I’ve asked around the ship and all the people who’ve gone there for service have said that the building is very nice and the service is in Danish. One even said it was the most catholic protestant service he’d ever been to. So my part in this church will be simple, to observe and to pray. To observe what a church that’s lost its identity looks like and to pray that it finds it again. I plan to go every Sunday morning that I have free and to walk around it and pray whenever I’m in town on free time. I plan, of course, to document what I discover not only to inform, but also to see how God works in this.

Somehow I thought just coming on this ship would be my crazy adventure for God these next two years, but obviously I was wrong. Yet again God asks me to do something that is completely uncomfortable, that may have absolutely no visible fruit for my labor, and makes me completely dependent on God for purpose. Should be fun.

The Language Barrier: Converting from English to Engine Room

It’s been a weird day. As of this point, I have been in “training” mode for two months and I still have about a month left. That’s three months of training for a twenty-four month commitment. That is, for every eight months of commitment, one month of training. What’s weird though is that there are very few left from the original group with whom I joined the ship that are still in “training” mode. About 90% have already settled into their jobs and I along with a few others still have to train.

This realization hit me today; that I was still in training after already two months away. I have to admit it was very discouraging. I started to doubt my ability to even be here. I thought with all that college education and world experience (I’ll wait for the laughter to stop), I’d adjust easily into this new life. I guess I’m human.

See, it’s the engine room that requires all this extra training. There is a load of information that we have to cover in a short period of time and it is quite overwhelming at times. But what’s more overwhelming is the fact that you have to see everyone else on the ship hard at work while you are sitting around and studying. It gives me a desire to do a really bang-up job once I get to the engine room on a full time basis (I’ve been there and worked there, just not without a training purpose behind it), but it is difficult to see that end.

One of the things that I was sad and grateful for at the same time before coming here was the fact that I didn’t have to adapt to a new language. The language on the ship is English. Granted it’s some strange combination of UK English, American English, Australian English, and ship English (you know; port, starboard, that sort of stuff), but it’s English. I felt sad, for one, for the people who do have to adapt to English. I can’t imagine changing location, culture, and language all at once. I felt grateful because I don’t have to go through that stress of learning a new language; or do I?

See not that my training sufferings are in any way equal to those suffering from language barrier but I’m kind of learning a new language as well. The engine room is a new language and I’m still smack dab in the middle of learning it. Like any language training there’s classroom learning and then there is leaning by emersion. I think to be encouraged I have to think of this time as overcoming my language barrier.

I know of folks living overseas in different culture who have been there for years and still have language issues. They are still studying language and I’m complaining about two months of learning. The problem I often have is that my expectations far out reach that of those that actually exist in reality. I expect no mistakes, no problems, no barriers. That is never the case. There are always mistakes, there are always problems, there are always barriers. So, I just have to accept that there is this barrier of engine room “language” that I have to overcome and that this training is the way I have to overcome it. Simple as that.

It’s not so simple actually. There are still my fellow shipmates who walk by our training who are working and I still feel guilty for not working.

God's Prep Work: Or How What I Spent All of My Childhood Doing Finally Payed Off

Hindsight is 20/20 right? Then how come after looking back I still can’t figure this one out? See, last evening it was revealed to me that I was being prepared this particular evening since the age of eight. Let me paint you the picture.

A bit of background. Our weeks here on the ship are fairly structured. We work five days a week. We get one day off, and we get one day designated as an “experience day.” Experience days, as of now, consist of training for ministry and a bit of practical application. Well, yesterday was my experience day for the week.

I was designated for a team from the ship to go to Copenhagen to do what was classified as “street evangelism.” For me, this is not comfortable. In fact, there are times where I absolutely despise “street evangelism.” For those of you unfamiliar with the term or the activities associated with the term, it consists of Christians out on the street handing out “literature” to unsuspecting passer-bys. I recognize God’s sovereignty in that He can use anything for the advancement of His kingdom. I just wish He would phase that particular practice out.

This event was no different. We were given “literature” to hand out and I optimistically took four pieces out of a possible much more than four. There was a table set up along the street with coffee to hand out to people as they walked. (Street, in this case, means paved walking area. In fact, there were very little cars in this part of Copenhagen.) I should mentioned that we were given the liberty to do whatever we liked as far as “outreach” goes, but we were encouraged to stick around the table to see if we could strike up any conversations. I chose not to stick around.

I mentioned to my team that I was interested in just walking around the area and praying. Three other were interested as well so two of us went one way and two the other. My partner in prayer and I walked not by five minutes to find what would occupy the rest of our night and for what God was preparing me for the last sixteen years.

There before us, sitting in an open square, were several white tables. Surrounding these tables were a series of flood lights pointing toward the tables. Between these lights and the tables were all kinds of people. People from Copenhagen, people from Spain, people from Italy, and people from the United States. Keeping these people occupied, sitting on the tables, were piles and piles of white Lego bricks.

I’m not going to lie to you friends, I’m not going to fabricate the truth, I was pretty darned excited. Without asking or seeking the reason behind the square converted play pin, I immediately began to build.

A woman standing, building next to me with two children was talking with someone across the table in Danish. Perhaps she was inquiring as to why all the Legos? Her conversation finished and I asked if she spoke English. I then asked why the Legos. She told me and before long we were having a conversation. I was talking with a woman on the street of Copenhagen. The whole point of the exercise that evening, but it wouldn’t have been possible without the medium of Lego.

As you can see, this was clearly a divine appointment. And as you can see I am completely flabbergasted as to how much preparation God puts into His kingdom work. With God’s sovereignty, He can use a tacky Christian track handed out by a very bold Christian person, but He can also use someone’s favorite childhood toy to strike up a conversation between two people in the middle of Copenhagen, Denmark. I hope He uses the later, or even better, both.

A Short Note From The Clay

My apologies to you faithful readers who've had to spend a month reading the archives. I was hoping to post more often, but neither time, nor words have allowed me to accomplish that. Please feel free to chastise me for not posting. It may be a motivating factor.

Speaking Words of Wisdom, Let It Be.

Ship life has come. The bunks are small. The people are diverse. The energy and emotional levels live at extremes. Times like these one wants a little godly wisdom to keep him grounded. I’ve been reading some A.W. Tozer along with someone else I can’t remember (the book is in my cabin and that requires going up and down four flights of stairs) and I wrote down some quotes that have become relevant to me these last few weeks.

From A.W. Tozer:

How good it would be if we could learn that God is easy to live with.

We’re here to be worshippers first and workers second. (Very relevant for ship life since work can get in the way of worship very easily.)

An infinite God can give all of Himself to each of His children. He does not distribute Himself that each may have a part, but to each one He gives al of Himself as fully as if there were no others. (I like infinity.)

A man by his sin may waste himself, which is to waste that which on earth is most like God. This is man’s greatest tragedy, God’s heaviest grief.

Five vows to make and keep:
1. Deal with sin thoroughly.
2. Never own anything – get rid of the sense of possessing.
3. Never defend yourself.
4. Never pass anything on about anybody else that will hurt them.
5. Never accept any glory.
Remember that these vows are not something you write in the back of your Bible and forget. They have got to be written in your own blood.

From the other guy:

There is only one requirement for enjoying God’s grace: being broke . . . and knowing it.

That’s it for now.