4/22/2020

Exit Strategy


On Saturday I had a long conversation with U. We were discussing a sermon he is preparing, and it brought back memories from our glorious Newbold days when we would play table tennis in the student centre and have endless discussions on sermons (his sermons, that is, I never discuss mine before preaching). 

One Biblical text we talked about was that of John – where he says that only love drives our fear. It basically means that love and fear are opposites (not love and hate, or fear and courage, as we are used to think). I really liked that idea. And I made up my mind on the spot – only love can bring me out of that atmosphere of fear we’re stuck in. I decided „love driving out fear“ would be my exit strategy (with exit strategy being such a hot topic everywhere).

I didn’t know any better – I wrote to the manager of the local Food Bank and asked if I could volunteer. They are quite reluctant when it comes to letting in random strangers but I swore I had been well and healthy over these past weeks so she let me join them. Because, on the other hand, they don’t have enough (wo)manpower there. The number of people who need food packages is going up and up daily, and a number of regular volunteers are out of play at the moment, taking care of their health. So for the past couple of days, I have been putting together food parcels, lifting boxes, pushing trolleys, counting cans and tins and chocolate bars. By the evening, my feet are burning and my back is aching but that’s a small problem. I actually feel wonderful because I can be useful. And because doing good to others dissolves my own fear/anxiety. Of course, it would be safer to stay home. Even though we use gloves and masks at the Food Bank, we can’t have a decent distance in between us and sometimes some guys walk around with bare faces (the horror!). But in my heart I know the risk is worth it.

When my shift is over, I shyly glance at the people outside the Food Bank’s distribution counter. Elderly people. Parents who cannot feed their families. A mother who asks if there is any cake because it’s her child’s birthday… (I'm not making this up) And I feel almost physically how my world is being streched. Because I’ve never known that kind of people. I didn’t really think they existed. But they do, pretty much outside my window. It’s unnerving and yet, a necessary realisation. I don’t know what to do with that realisation but it’s here and by the looks of it, it’s not going to go away.

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To be honest with you, I’m exiting all sorts of things these days. My job, for example.

I’m not ready to discuss it in depth it but today the conference’s ex com approved my application to have an unpaid leave from the beginning of June until the end of December. And I’m not sure I will return after that.

Because I’m exhausted. Because my well is empty. Because I don’t get along with God any more. Because I don’t think I’m strong enough for this job. And because I wish He called someone else, someone tougher and better.

We’ll see where this road will take me. If there is any road left for me.

4/10/2020

Covidiots




I think I’ve developed something called a near miss syndrome.

I don’t know if it’s a real thing but I read about it in Malcolm Gladwell’s book David and Goliath. He talks about the Blitz and how the Nazis bombed London for 56 days in a row. And he says that in the beginning, everyone was afraid for their life an ran for cover. But after the bombs had fallen for some time, the ones who had survived got the idea that as they had dodged all the bombs so far, they couldn’t possibly get hit, they couldn’t possibly die. And he talks about children playing football on the streets of London while the jet fighters flew overhead.

Things aren’t nearly as dramatic as that but somehow the anxiety just wore off. So much so that I went back to work this week. And as I was walking to the office on Monday morning (fortunately I don’t have to use public transport to get to work) something clicked in my mind and all fear disappeared and life as I’ve always known it returned. So I’m pretty much living a normal life now. Of course, the contacts are few (usually I’m the only one in the office), all the meetings take place in Zoom, and when I do my weekly shopping, everyone in the grocery store looks as if they’re in the middle of the valley of the shadow of death. But other than that, the normal rhythm has returned. I get up earlier again, I hit the office by 9 a.m. and this week I've even got some school work done (only one more book to read and a reading report to write before the school session starts).  

Yesterday was a massive exception to that rule. Because yesterday was a long recording day in our office since they wanted to get all three online church services for this weekend shot in one go. And yes, there was a shooting schedule and the idea was to have as few people in the studio at any given time as possible. But it still somehow happened that in the late afternoon everyone – more than 10 people – was there at the same time. And then someone ordered a mountain of Chinese food and we all turned into, uhmm, Covidiots. Because there was no 2 x 2 meter rule left and we sort of had an impulsive party. Everyone was so happy because we’ve all been deprived of human contact and we’ve missed each other so much. If all 7 pastors who were present… if we are all to get sick now, that would be a scandal, to say the least. It was very reckless of us, of course. But the joy of seeing each other and the short moment of feeling normal again somehow topped the potential danger. And the joy was great. For example, my little brother was there to help out with music (he plays the flute in my dad’s band). I hadn’t seen him for more than a month! And I’m like, there’s something different about him. Of course, he’s hairy, as everyone is these days. But then I suddenly realise he’s walking around with glasses. Now, he’s had the same eye surgery done as I have so he doesn’t need any glasses. But he’s wearing these silly spectacle frames without any glasses in them, and it just made me laugh so hard. And it will make me laugh again when I see him on my computer screen tomorrow morning, playing his flute and wearing fake glasses. Oh, man, this is what I’ve been missing! Real humans, silly humans!

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I preached in the online service last Sabbath. And it will go to my personal history books as a memorable event. 

I preached on Mark 9, „I believe, help my unblief“ story. My central idea was that this odd prayer is the most human prayer of all. Because we all have these conflicting things in our lives: many people can pray to God, „I believe, I don’t believe, help me nevertheless!“, these days we pray, „I am not afraid, I am afraid, help me!“, many married couples stuck in their homes should pray, „I love, I don’t love any more, help me!“ And God takes whatever little faith, love, peace or hope we have left, and works miracles in our lives.

In the space between my mouth and the ears of the listeners a miracle happened, no doubt. God added something to my words in a way that many people were touched. After the service, I received so may messages and emails, I stopped counting at 25. And this is not bragging. The truth be told, my own faith has been renewed and strengthened through this experience. To think that God would still be willing and able to use me for something good during a phase in my life when I’ve thrown a good measure of f-words to His face… That’s the biggest miracle of all. [I will tell you about that phase in my life once it’s over.]

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But now it’s time to return from the memory lane. Easter dessert is waiting to be made, some work emails are waiting to be sent before the Sabbath kicks in. And the yellow tulips on my kitchen table are as bright as the sun.