2 minutes and 41 seconds to spare

Trains in Western Europe are marvelous. They are truly amazing, because they are always on time . . . you can actually set your watch by the train arrival and departure! It’s nothing like where I live in the Hairy Armpit . . . after living most of the last 13 plus years in Russia and the Balkans . . . where anything closely resembling on time is acceptable and expected. If it is a half hour late . . . well, that is really on time here. Western Europe is just the opposite; 10:04 departure means 10:04 depart 999 times out of 1000.

So if you are running late getting to the airport or train station here in the Hairy Armpit, no one panics or has their blood pressure shooting higher . . . the chances are better than even that whatever mode of transportation you are going to get on, will depart late by Western standards.

On the other hand, if you are running late in Germany or Switzerland . . . oops . . . guess what? You are going to miss your train. And this is where I found myself on Saturday . . . after a blessed week in the West, where everything functions in a predictable rational manner . . . running late because the regional highway into Basel, Switzerland from Germany was closed for repairs . . . so we had to take the scenic route . . . along with thousands of other motorists . . . and we are seriously late.

I really hate that O.J. Simpson style of of running through the airport or whatever transportation hub you find yourself, racing to catch your train plane or automobile. But once again, here I am doing just that. I am too old for this crap!

I decided to take my chances with the train steward and race directly to the train without a ticket . . . who knows if they will throw me off the train, charge me some ginormous penalty, or what . . . I just figured that getting on the train took precedence over a ticket to ride said train. Remember that I have a plane waiting for me at the end of this train ride, and if I was to make the worship service next day and lead worship . . . well you get the picture; get on the train!

I got to the train with exactly 2 minutes and 41 seconds to spare! Before I got my bags into the racks above, and sank wearily into one of the seats, the train began to pull out the station. Whew! That was really close.

Oh, the ticket? Well the smiling and ever so polite Swiss ticket agent came through my car about 30 minutes into the trip and listened to my whole spiel with a smile on her face and then sold me a train ticket at normal fare. That was a pretty good deal with 2 minutes and 41 seconds to spare.

Locked in the parking garage!

It was the first time that we had seen each other in several years, and so Tim and I had spent several hours getting caught up on all that we had been going through recently. We were sitting in a dive off the walking square in Lorrach, Germany.

Since we both had had a long long day, we called it quits about 9:00 pm and headed back to the parking garage off the side street. We paid for our parking in the automated machine and then got into the car and headed toward the exit. Imagine our surprise as we turned the corner and discovered a heavy duty fence covering the exit!

“What are we going to do?“ Tim asked me. ”I have to catch the train at 5:50 am!“ he said. And I responded, ”Yes and they lock the doors to the dorm I am staying in at midnight.“ Tim asked me again, ”What ever are we going to do?“ It was the question of the moment.

I wasn’t overly worried . . . since Tim is one of the best troubleshooters I have ever met in my whole life, I was sure that we would resolve this eventually . . . and . . . I have been known to solve a few problems myself. Still, being locked inside a parking garage far from where you need to be, is no small challenge. I decided to walk around and see if the entrance was also fenced shut and it was. Then I told Tim that I was going to see if I could raise the fence in some way, and he said that he would try to find someone who might be able to help us.

I had no luck at all raising the fence . . . although I could lift it, I certainly could not get it high enough for the car to pass underneath. While I was practicing being Mr. Hercules, Tim had found another person who needed to escape the confines of the parking garage as urgently as we did, with the added bonus that she also spoke English (which is rather rare in this part of Germany). She approach the fence just as incredulously as we had, but then she burst out laughing.

The sign on the fence, which neither Tim nor I could read although we speak and read several languages between the two of us, read ”drive your car to the edge of the fence and it will automatically rise.“ We did and it did.

What a real picture of the spiritually lost. They are locked into a place they cannot escape from on their own, without outside help from people who understand what is really going on and who can read all the signs. We need to be the ones showing the captives the way out.

Food Miles

Yesterday while traveling from Berlin, Germany to Basel, Switzerland, I was reading the Euro-perspective of Green Skiing. Western Europeans are far more eco-focused than I find most Americans to be. I don’t particularly have an opinion about that fact, but for my purposes here, am just stating the data. And so the big deal of the moment is skiing and snowboarding (Europeans as a group do far more of that than do North Americans) and which resorts are eco-friendly, burning bio-fuels, saving the environment (although snowmaking machines are notorious energy hogs and water abusive), and all that jazz.

So now that I have told you far more than you wanted to know about what I read on airplanes, and have since put you completely to sleep I fear, there was one line that jumped off the page that I was reading as we jetted into the sky spewing ginormous quantities of pollution into the dark early morning air of Berlin. Food miles. There was this concept of food miles . . .. It is the idea that transporting food costs the environment and world, resources that it can ill afford to expend. Thus the article suggested eating local, in-season fruits and vegetables to reduce the food miles spent getting said food to your table. This one actually makes sense to me, and we do this as a rule. But what if you live in a part of the world where there is little locally grown food, or what if it is stuff you can’t stomach? (pun intended)

Then the article took off on carbon footprints. No, this is not a new discovery of dinosaurs locked into some type of carbon dating fiasco. This is the carbon emissions that come from you living, eating, breathing, and traveling in the real world. So if I eat local produce that has not had to travel a billion kilometers to reach me and fuel my body, the logic is that I have reduced the carbon footprint that my life is costing the world’s resources. The irony was not lost on me that I, at that very moment of carbon footprint awareness, was leaving an astronomical amount of carbon emissions in my wake as we flew far above the sleeping German countryside.

I wondered how many locally grown peppers and tomatoes should I eat to offset one flight to Western Europe? What about a transatlantic flight!?

All of this eco-conversation reminds me that it is far easier to see a problem, than find a real solution. Some real problems that have plagued me lately, and to which I have no solutions are 1) why do organizations almost always control people rather than enable them? 2) why does God not give people more opportunity to see, hear and experience the Gospel of Christ before they die? Six people connected to our church in some manner have died recently. Most without Christ. Perhaps this is more of a question of me/the church failing them, rather than God not giving opportunity? On the other hand, why am I trying to exonerate God? 3) Why do I think I have to find some spiritual significance in every bad thing that happens? 4) When am I going to make these changes in my life rather than just think about them? Why am I so paralyzed about taking the risks to switch careers or something? 5) When will Jesus be King and satan completely vanquished? 6) Why do I say I believe in a loving caring God that is reaching out to the world and wishes to save it, when most of my actions show and tell that I am focused on me. The incongruency of that makes me itch and twist! 7) How do I set people free to reach their potential? 8) why do I continue to do live in the place and job that I do, yet pee and moan about it all the time? Why not do something about it? 9) Where is the good in pain and heartbreak? 10) Why do I spend so much mental effort asking questions that have no answers?

I think I will go eat some locally grown German corn while I ponder my carbon footprints.

I don't understand God and neither do you-

It has been more than a month since I have posted a blog on this site. Tragedy struck in September and I haven’t had the heart to write since. For those who may not know, we are building a significant building which will house both a local church and National Seminary. In September we had two workers who were buried when we had a deep trench collapse on top of them. These two friend’s deaths were powerfully troubling for me. Then it got worse; the police arrested two of my friends and placed them in prison as the responsible persons for the death of the other two friends. So two friends dead, two friends in prison (although one is currently out). This tragedy has forced me to review a number of assumptions that I have about God.

I have always assumed that God was there to protect me from harm. Now I am afraid to drive my car some days.
I have assumed that God was there to prevent tragedy from happening to believers. Now I am wondering when the next tragedy will occur.
I have assumed that God wanted His plans to go smoothly. Now I wonder why a project so important, can be in such a precarious situation.
I have assumed that God wished for love and mercy to rule the earth. Now I worry about the two small boys without a father.
I have assumed that God’s highest goal was me and my concerns. Now I understand that I don’t really understand God at all.

What happens when your child is raped, or a young father is killed, or when a project that could change a whole country is endangered? What happens when tragedy strikes, death comes early, evil occurs? Does anyone know where the love of God goes . . .? Like I said, I don’t really understand God at all, and this has made me question many of my previously rock-solid convictions about God. On the other hand, where else do we turn? Who can rescue us us? And isn’t that what all this is about . . . that we all need to be rescued, yet sometimes He doesn’t? And that damned “why” question keeps popping up.

So I don’t have any answers for you, and I almost never can answer the why question, but through these events in life, one will either stop believing entirely, or have a permanently damaged faith, or grow stronger faith. I have no idea which one of the three I will end up with, but this one thing I know for sure, I don’t understand God, but hopefully, He understands me.