Even days

I've Moved

2006-07-06T14:58:00.000+02:00

This blog has been moved to evendays.org. Please click on the link to read the latest post.

You'll want to bookmark the new site, and for those of you who have generously put a link to this blog on yours, you'll want to update that address to www.evendays.org.

See you on the other side!

Brady

First impressions

2006-07-01T18:16:00.000+02:00

The last time I tread on USA soil was in May, 2005, so the changes are not as remarkable as other years where 34 months would separate visits. Even though born and raised here, you have to get used to stuff. Example: Sales tax is not included.

Don't stare at people who are speaking English in the store. They are not visiting. They live here. And they don't need your help.

Example: When someone asks you, "How you doing today?," they don't necessarily know you. They are being nice. Don't try to figure out where you've met them before.

Example: Some people eat tacos for breakfast. No, not just tacos... Tacos with chicken and guacamole and cheese and...

Example: It's okay to talk out loud in the metro. You can even look at people. Sometimes even make eye-contact.

Example: The Tour de France is finished just after you get up in the morning.

Thanks for stopping by.

Someone waiting

2006-06-29T14:24:00.000+02:00

We got to the airport, went through the customs line, got checked out and okayed by those friendly folks protecting our borders, went to the mystery carousel that spit out our luggage after the mandatory waiting period, met two people from Abilene before we even got out the doors...

I am one of the world's worst travellers. My mind tends to turn to mush about 48 hours before take-off. I have been known to forget passports in a drawer, airline tickets on the dining room table and, the worst sin of all, to actually believe the man at the airline counter who assured me that my visa would be waiting when I arrived in a certain, un-named, Latin-american country.

I tend to get more and more irritable as the packing process grows longer. 38% of the stuff I bring I never use, for my pre-voyage mind is filled with thoughts like: This pocket widget will really come in handy if ever...

The night before the trip is nearly always a losing battle to fall asleep.

But then you go through those doors out into the arrival area, you search those faces for just one you can recognize... And there it is.

That makes the trip worth it.

LST's last week

2006-06-26T20:00:00.000+02:00

Our LST project is winding down. Bryn and Blake have met some wonderful people and we should be able to continue some sort of a relationship with 5 or 6 of their new friends. It’s always an exciting time when you get to work with people from all different levels of faith. Some are from other religions and just want to go a bit deeper while using their English. Others are experiencing a thirst of things spiritual, centered on Jesus, that grows in intensity and can also invigorate the “teacher’s” faith. Thank God for those people.

Several of the new Christians at the Lausanne church are from past LST efforts. So please keep our new friends in your prayers.

And thanks to all of you who have supported different LST projects. Hugs to all of you who financed this team!

Numbers

2006-06-24T20:34:00.000+02:00

It’s Saturday evening and we are back. Here are the three days, two nights in Ardèche (in numbers):

57 pies.

28 cakes.

160 brownies.

17 trout caught and released.

0 kept.

Switzerland 2, South Korea 0.

2 kids, found safe at home.

1 house, still intact.

Happy campers, all of us.

May God bless your Sunday around his Son’s table.

Gone fishing

2006-06-22T05:52:00.000+02:00

I’m checking out for a few days, heading to the Ardèche region of France. Wife is going to bake and freeze desserts for the summer kid’s camp. She figures she can save the camp some money this way and also be a big help, even if we’re not there to take on our regular responsibilities later on in the summer (when we’ll be eating other people’s food).

Me? I’m taking some light tackle and spending some time on some of the small rivers, seeing if I can scare up a few trout. Then I might take a nap in the afternoon. And if it rains, I can always wash dishes.

See you on Sunday.

Crossing paths

2006-06-20T13:29:00.000+02:00

Today is my 150th post. Wife suggested I break the rules and post the following TRUE story. I wrote it up a couple of years ago. Some of our ministry partners have seen it. I think it’s worth a read. Thanks.
--
Often times we do things expecting immediate results. And if the results aren't immediately visible, we may feel discouragement, or even think that our efforts were worthless.
It's always best just to do the right thing because it's the right thing. I was speaking to the church about their commitment to worship the Lord and their desire to build strong relationships with their brothers and sisters. I reminded them that these relationships are not only important for them today, but also for 10, 20 or 30 years from now. These relationships will allow them to grow in joy and God will use their "now" commitment to bless them in the future.

I received this unexpected blessing on Wednesday night, November 17, 1999. I'd jumped on the first train that was going to Geneva. My final destination was Marseilles and I'd left the house early, which would give me over an hour in Geneva to change trains. So I stored back-pack on the luggage rack and sat down. Two college-age girls were speaking English in the seats next to me and talking about their churches. So I interrupted and asked them if they were Christians. They said yes, so I asked them what they were doing in Europe. "We're students at Harding University and we go to the extension campus in Florence, Italy. We're on our way to Nice, France."

Well, we've had lots of students visit us from Harding—students who've come to distribute Bible course information in mailboxes—so I told them I was a minister for the church of Christ in Lausanne. What a coincidence to meet on the train, in the same wagon, going to the same place!

One of the girls was from San Francisco, one from Nashville. 6 other heads popped up from elsewhere in the same compartment. There were actually 8 girls traveling together. As we introduced ourselves, one of the girls said, "Hey, my brother's name is Brady too." (There aren't too many Bradys in this world, for a given name, anyway.) We talked about Europe and about the churches, where the girls could worship when they got to Barcelona on Sunday, etc.
While talking, I found out that the Harding student with the brother named Brady knew one of the girls in the Christian internship in Marseilles, where I was going to teach. She wrote a message for me to give to the intern, signing her name "Erin R____."

Halfway to Geneva, I asked Erin where here brother had got his name. She said her parents had known someone a long time ago and had liked the name and the person. That's how they'd found it.

Now my own name came from a wonderful man my parents love very much. I was hoping that Erin's parents knew the same person. "So you don't remember who this person was?"

"No. It was a long time ago. Just someone they knew before I was born."

"How old are your parents?" "52."

"And your brother?" "22."

It was evident that we weren't named after the same person. I learned that they'd lived around Sacramento for nearly 20 years and her dad was a preacher in a small town called Rescue. Her parents had gone to Fresno State University, but they'd never mentioned anything to Erin about the church there.

"And what's your dad's name?" "Phil."

"And your mom?" "Cathy."

Somewhere inside my brain, a bell, or at least a very dull thud, had gone off. When I asked if she had a picture, she said no. But then her friends reminded her of the ones in her Bible. They could tell that something really neat was happening.

Erin came back with the pictures… from 1971. (Can you believe she was carrying a 30 year old picture of her parents in her Bible? She let me know they didn't look anything like that anymore…) When I looked at the picture, I was staring into the face of my sixth grade Wednesday night Bible school teacher from the College church of Christ.

"Erin, I know how your parents got your brother's name. Before leaving Fresno, your dad told me that if they ever had a boy, they'd name him Brady. Their first child was a girl, and then they moved away. And that was the last I heard from them."

Erin kept repeating, "This cannot be true! This is incredible. This is NOT happening." (Well, she IS from California…)

So, at a Geneva pay phone, I called Phil R_____. "Phil, this is Brady S____. I'm calling from Switzerland."

No answer.

"Phil, this is Brady S_____. Do you remember me?"

"Brady, I've got the other Brady on the line. Can you hold just a minute?"

I held.

"Brady, how are you?" (It was the first time since the birth of his son that he'd ever called anyone else "Brady".)

"How did you get the name Brady for you son?," I asked.

"Well, we liked the name, and you've got to name the child after someone you admire. And he's a good kid…"

We talked for a couple minutes—he in California. I in Geneva. Then I told him there was someone he needed to talk to. I handed the phone to his daughter, Erin.

"Dad! Can you believe…?"

The right train.
The right car.
The right train compartment.
The right conversation.
The right question.
The right picture.

Boy! Was it hard to get to sleep that night.

Victory

2006-06-19T17:58:00.000+02:00

Switzerland got lucky during a very sloppy first half, took the lead after 15 minutes, then came back on the field fired up and actually out-played the Togolese.

The Nati won 2-0. (Horns are honking all over town.) Just a tie against South Korea on Friday evening sends us into the next round.

I know you don’t care, but thanks for pretending.

I wish I could help

2006-06-18T20:47:00.000+02:00

I walked home today one of the older ladies from the neighborhood who comes to church whenever her health permits. Her husband’s in a nice rest home nearby and she’s been part of this neighborhood forever. Both of these lovely people pray for us daily and mention many by name when they worship God.

She asked me about our trip this upcoming weekend, about how we were feeling about a couple that’s not part of the church anymore. She wanted information concerning a young couple who have a small child and find it difficult to worship with us regularly, wanting to know how she could help. She loves them.

Then she said: “Both my husband and I are sad that we can’t be more supportive of the work you are doing. We love the church, and wish our health let us be more involved. For many Christians do not seem to love the church. I think they love Jesus but find it hard to commit to his body.”

She wasn’t complaining. She just wanted to make things better, to grab hold of something good and help it grow instead of seeing it weaken, to be there for her spiritual family.

Summer vacation

2006-06-16T12:02:00.000+02:00

After today, the kids have 3 more days of classes before summer vacation. As high school-ers without finals, they’ll get out earlier than the seniors or those not yet in “gymnase” (our canton’s name for high school).

Vacation time is nearly a constitutional right in many European countries. I know in France, there is an association called “Vacations for everyone” that gets kids out of the cities and into the mountains. Even the unemployed expect time off.

Everyone starts a new position with 4 week’s vacation per year plus the 10 holidays. After just a couple of years, they pop it up to 5 weeks. One of my buddies from Geneva works for the city. He started with 7 full weeks of vacation time!

Used to be that if you didn’t have the money to go away during the summer months, you borrowed it. And everyone has a story about families who were ashamed to be at home in the summer, so they closed the shutters and pretended they weren’t home.

But now, more and more people admit to staying home and seeing the sites around Lausanne: lake, mountains, coffee on a terrace… Which makes sense to me. I mean, they are in Switzerland.

Nati vs Zidane & Co.

2006-06-14T09:19:00.000+02:00

The Tuesday night Bible study ended in a 0-0 draw between the Swiss and the French. That’s not all that bad, because half the church in Geneva is Swiss, half is French, and half is from South America.

I asked Wife about the match when I got home late last night. She said it was interesting, but she was reading TIME and watching the match simultaneously so she wasn’t really the one to ask. Unfortunately, she couldn’t really hear the Swiss sport commentators. Daughter had invited 3 friends over to watch the match and chatted through the whole thing. I think they did decide which player was the cutest, which doesn’t translate into any points but is nearly as important as goal differential.

Son 2 thought we should have won.

Got some great international comments on the last post. Check out Ocular Fusion for good commentary from Virginia (?) about Team USA’s diminishing chances for advancement.

Wife has been looking for souvenirs to take to nephews-nieces on an upcoming trip. She was surprised by the number of England t-shirts for sale. No USA stuff. And no USA flags either, Sandra. Sorry.

BTW, see the Haiku competition on Steve’s blog. A real hoot.

World Cup 2006

2006-06-12T16:21:00.000+02:00

The FIFA World Cup 2006 (soccer) started last Friday night in Germany. We got to see part of the first match on TV, but then 9 people showed up for a Bible Study so we missed four of the goals. But it was fun.
Neighborhood windows are full of flags. Most of them are red and white, and Switzerland has it’s first match on Tuesday evening against our no-love-lost neighbor, France. (Son 2 saw a Swiss fan t-shirt that proclaimed loyalty to the Swiss National Team (Nati) and any other team that was playing against… FRANCE.) You guessed it, I’m teaching a Bible study during that match too. Oh well, “Love not the world…”

From about 1 of every 12 balconies hangs a Portuguese flag, by far the largest contingent of foreigners in Lausanne. For good measure, you also see Spanish and Italian flags, even some from Brazil (zough I hazn’t seen zeny French “drapeaux”… Not worth zee risque, I image-ine!)

Our family is pulling for 3 teams, in the following order: Switzerland, USA and Ukraine.

Oh, yes. And for any team playing against France.

Hop Suisse!

24/24, 7/7

2006-06-10T09:29:00.000+02:00

I got corralled into doing something good. But I’m just not very good at it, which shows how much room there is to grow… How much my heart has got to change.

One of the ladies from the Geneva church set up a 24-hour prayer chain, just for a week, so we could pray around the clock with brothers and sisters. She’s a baker and patisserie maker, and took those early hours from 2 to 4. Bless her heart.

I took my hour at mid-morning.

I have a long list of people and needs to pray for: A member who is in constant pain, a blogger whose daughter has seizures, a generous USA church that supports us, enemies that seem to grow in number every year (it’s not my fault), pregnant family members… You get the picture.

So on Thursday, I thought: “Enough of the intercession. I’ll just be thankful for an hour.” I took the same list and prayed through it, but just with thanksgiving.

I only made it to 25 minutes.

So, I started over.

Hope your heart grows in thankfulness for all you have received, from blessings to troubles, from sadness to joy.

And thank you for stopping by.

Concert

2006-06-08T09:01:00.000+02:00

Happy Birthday, MEW!!!
--
The Harding University Chorus gave a wonderful concert last night in Geneva, just across the way from where the Geneva Church meets. Boy, can those guys/gals sing. Even though sore throats and coughs had sidelined about 15% of the group, the sound was good and the classics, the hymns and the spirituals very powerful. I even enjoyed “O Happy Day” though I’m getting Happy Day overload. (I know, I know. Need some time off.)

They also sang “My God is a Rock in a Weary Land”, “I Couldn’t Hear Nobody Pray” and “My Soul’s been Anchored in the Lord”, which seems to prove, again, that deep faith grows out of deep suffering.

Although I’ve heard the song a thousand times, “The Lord Bless you and Keep you” is still moving, still beautiful, and a wonderful blessing with which to end an evening. Visitors and Christians went home with that song in their hearts.

“Good music penetrates the ear with facility and quits the memory with difficulty” (Thomas Beecham).

Pentecost update: The return

2006-06-06T12:02:00.000+02:00

Happy 06-06-06!

Today’s post continues the thoughts from June 4.
--
Inside that Most Holy Place stood… Nothing.

A second point is that it’s possible to have all the buildings and activities, traditions and trappings and be, at the very center of it all, empty.

Empty of love. Empty of service. Empty of God’s Spirit.

For many during Jesus’ time, “seven evil spirits” had filled the empty space and led unbelieving Israel to reject the Promised One. The darkness of their hearts and the godlessness of their religious actions did not permit them to recognize God in their cities, streets and homes.

Of course, churches can stand empty at their center, and many of us have had to lament that event at some time in our past. But the reality that shakes us most is knowing our own hearts can be filled with many things but God. So we pray to fill our temple with Spirit, to be grounded in love so that, in the end, we will be prepared for the complete presence of God in all.

And not stand before him empty.

Pentecost update

2006-06-04T15:23:00.000+02:00

While preparing for the Pentecost sermon, I spent time in 1 Peter 2, where the Apostle calls Jesus the living stone, rejected by men, but chosen by God to be the cornerstone. He reminds his readers that they too are living stones, brought together to form a spiritual house… In order to make known to a lost world what God is up to in Christ.

I’m intrigued by the spiritual house image… A temple. The splendor of the Herodian Temple, Peter’s temple, astounds us. Josephus and the Mishna (Middoth) concur that the Temple was a wonder, wowing the Sion-bound worshipper. Golden gates and columned courts, altars and tables and candles and glory… All focused on a building 50 meters wide by 50 meters tall and nearly twice as long.

Inside stood a golden table and an incense altar and woven curtains protecting the worshipper from the Holy of Holies, walls covered in gold and curtains.

Yet, inside that Most Holy Place stood… Nothing. Absolutely nothing. No ark. No relic. No idol.

Two thoughts:
First, an empty temple, for the pagan, was absurd. He demanded idols. He needed idols. But God declared his identity, love and grandeur through his mighty deeds.

Second…

Pentecost

2006-06-02T11:53:00.000+02:00

Sunday is Pentecost in the Western Christian World. The British call it Whitsun, short for White Sunday, describing the white robes that the newly baptized would wear on Pentecost.

For the rest of us, the word Pentecost has its origin in two words: PENTE, which means FIVE, and COST, which is the NASDAQ symbol for Costco.

I hope that is helpful.

The Jewish expression of faith in the only God YHWH was manifested through temple worship, the priesthood, and the three yearly festivals of Tabernacles, Passover and Pentecost.

Our Savior referred to his body as God among us and a temple that would be destroyed but resurrected. As chief priest, he intercedes for us. He is our Passover lamb.

Likewise, the church is the Temple of the Spirit, a People of Priests, a Harvest that “started” on Pentecost, the day Peter stood up before an amazed crowd who had heard the wonderful actions of God declared in their own language, only to hear the most wonderful deed yet: The resurrection and reign of Jesus, the promised Messiah.

Be filled with wonder this Sunday, for forgiveness is offered, and God through Spirit has made his home in the church… In you.

LST begins

2006-05-28T15:50:00.000+02:00

Here are Blake and Bryn. They survived our time at the French retreat and started their English Conversation classes with different people today. We aren’t yet up to our limit on participants, so please keep these two in your prayers. We’d love for them to be meeting with about 30 people, giving time and energy to each participant and sharing the Good News of Jesus.

We sang and sang at the Ascension Retreat and had several good lessons from Ephesians 3.16-19, which is my prayer for you today.

I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, 17 so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 18 may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19 and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

LST arrives

2006-05-22T11:12:00.000+02:00

Our Let’s Start Talking team arrives on Tuesday afternoon. Blake is from Fresno State and Bryn from Pepperdine. The poor guys are supposed to get off the plane at 17:45 (Blake will have been traveling for 26 hours already… 5.5 hour layover in Dallas and another 8 hours at Gatwick, London. Who is LST’s travel agent?). We’ll pack them on the train for the 50 minute ride to Lausanne where they will immediately meet 10 to 15 of the people who are going to do the English conversation courses with them. (Who is the guy organizing stuff on our end?) We’ve got to do this straightaway because Thursday is Ascension Day (you knew that…), a holiday in our canton. Most people from Lausanne make it a long weekend, so the team can rest after they meet everyone.

Ascension is the time for our European French churches’ retreat in the beautiful Ardèche area. The LST’ers will go too, and I’m sure they will be Frenched out and ready to give those English lessons next week.

Thank you for praying for these two workers.

Mrs. Dubose

2006-05-20T14:16:00.000+02:00

Somehow, To Kill a Mockingbird wasn’t in my High School English curriculum, so I’m reading it now.

Jem’s sister tells about a vicious, bitter, flea-bitten old woman named Mrs. Dubose who insults the two children as they pass by at the end of every day to meet their father. The sick lady literally spits out abuse (she drools) between her clacking dentures… Then one day, young Jem has had enough of it. He storms into her garden whacking off the tops of flowers, a whirlwind of destruction.

When Attica (father) comes home that evening, some explaining takes place and poor Jem is ordered to go and read every day for a month, for two long hours, to the hateful women.

Which he does. She continues her insults as Jem reads. A wind-up alarm clock goes off after a short period of time, the signal that Jem and his sister can now leave.

Insults. Reading. Alarm. This continues for a month, the sole variation being that the alarm goes off a bit later each day (until it’s not used again) and Mrs. Dubose seems more “aware” at the end of each session.

Jem nearly dies when Attica tells him he’s got to do an extra week. But he submits. And then he’s free.

A month later, the spiteful woman exits the story. Only then does Jem learn the significance of his reading and of the alarm clock. Only then does Mrs. Dubose give him his gift.

Jem never grasped what was going on while he obeyed his father. He never knew what role he played in his father’s plan. But because he submitted, even without understanding, he brought freedom into Mrs. Dubose’s life.

The Father asks for your love and trust. He desires your obedience, even if you don’t understand why. This is the way he has chosen to work out his plan in your life and to bless those around you.

Thanks for stopping by.

Rossini

2006-05-18T10:15:00.000+02:00

The dress rehearsal took place last night, without the dresses and only rehearsing the pieces the chorus was singing. The four soloists just did snippets of their arias and duets/trios and then sang the introductions to the choral sections where 120 of us joined in.

We’re singing Rossini’s Petite Messe Solennelle. Some parts are incredibly beautiful (most of them a cappella) and other sections contain a few too many AMENs (21 pages for the last fugue), though even those sections can shine. When the tenor soloist sings the opera-like Domine Deus, the atmosphere lightens and you can’t help but smile. That said, the opening Kyrie makes me want to cry, but I can’t hit the La’s (A) and be teary at same time.

I have been reading the last few days about the formation of the creeds. It’s useful reading but complex, showing that difficulties brought believers to define their faith more clearly, to put into words the mystery of God’s plan brought to completion in his only Son. A plan ultimately visible in our lives.

All this leads me to think that Creeds are truly meaningful when they are sung. That the definite, confining words take on mystery when they echo in church sanctuaries.

Who are you?

2006-05-16T11:00:00.000+02:00

Are you Migros or COOP? (pronounced ME-GROW and COE – OPE). This is a real question that any Swiss resident can readily answer.

The question represents the two largest grocery store chains in Switzerland, accounting for about 80% of Swiss sales. That’s where the question comes from because, generally speaking, a family is either Migros or COOP.

Some people, like a daughter of a “friend of mine”, almost refuse to go into a COOP. Allegiances can go deep, breaking friendships, ending romances and splitting churches.

Yes, we are Migros, going to the MM just up the hill nearly every day (fridges are tiny here). M’s are small, with just the basics. MM’s are bigger (that’s why there are two M’s) with more stuff, fresh veggies, books and other necessary items. MMM’s are not Sam’s but they are huge, with electronics, sports stuff, clothing and all the rest.

Some families belong to even smaller sects, such as Migros budget. These are generic items that come in the same M-Budget wrappers, promising you lower quality at lower cost. There are now M-Budget cell phones, vacations, TP, noodles and even M-Budget parties.

Curtain's up

2006-05-14T16:38:00.000+02:00

My mom grew up going to the movies. I think they were cheap and it wasn’t a sin yet. She knows all the classics and one of my favorite youth memories is sitting together (with sis “Ducks on a pond”) in the living room watching the afternoon matinees on Summer TV. I don’t know how many times Rock Hudson faked Doris Day into loving him, got found out and dumped, then married just as Ms Day was going into delivery.

There were Bogart films and Hitchcock mysteries (which still get me), Westerns and Happy End love stories (which still don’t get me). Bing and Frank and Dean and, of course, Bob who was always on the road to somewhere. Did he ever get the girl?

Mom knows them all, which still amazes me. “I’ll take Cinema for $1000, please.”

Three things brought this to mind:

Dean Martin, Kim Novak and that guy who was My Favorite Martian were on Swiss TV just the other evening. In English, mind you. Mom, you’d have liked that one.

I saw this in yesterday’s paper, which proves it’s NOT a sin to go to the cinema.
It's by Burki,

And, obviously, it’s Mother’s Day.

Love you, Mom.

Witnessing

2006-05-12T08:59:00.000+02:00

The little girl is only 7, and she walked into B’s Sunday school class last week with a smile. One of the Geneva members has been bringing her for the last month or two. During the lesson, activity and singing, she let on that she knew Jesus was married and had had a child with his wife, Mary Magdalene.

Last Thursday afternoon, one of our Let’s Start Talking friends came by. Life's falling apart and she’s faced with difficult questions. Cancer, marriage on the rocks, no job, few friends… G. is hurting. In addition, her son is attacking her struggling faith. “Didn’t you read in that Brown book that the Bible is man’s idea and not God’s, that Jesus was no more God than you or me? How can you believe that stuff?”
--
The fictional character Teabing says: “What I mean is that almost everything our fathers taught us about Christ is false.”

Some people listen to him.

The church says: We know that this disciple's testimony is true (John 21.24).

What have you heard your friends say? How have you replied?

Body parts

2006-05-10T15:38:00.000+02:00

I’m not a big 1 Corinthians 12 fan. Sure, I liked the imagery the first 100 times I heard that the body wasn’t just EYE or EAR, and that one body part can’t tell another body part to get lost. I still haven’t figured out a way to tastefully weave “less honorable body parts” into a Sunday sermon.

But as one of our Spanish-speaking members and I were reading through that passage yesterday, I was struck by God’s truth when Paul wrote:

… Para que no haya desavenencia en el cuerpo, sino que los miembros todos se preocupen los unos por los otros… (12.25).

Okay, everyone close your eyes and count to three (and when you open your eyes, the text suddenly appears in English):

… That there should be no division in the body, but that its parts would have equal concern for each other… (NIV)

Just imagine a body, a church body, where each member is esteemed and each member has equal concern for every other member. This is the picture that the Apostle placed in my mind yesterday.

If we take the charge seriously, we will honor members that have received little honor and labor to convince every member to be concerned for every other member.

Que Dios nos ayude.

The risk in loving

2006-05-08T19:00:00.000+02:00

J.P. is a neighbor and retired pastor for the Reformed Evangelical Protestant Church in the Canton of Vaud (a mouthful). We first met on one of his walks around the neighborhood.

He has a thousand stories and I’m on story 1113. (He repeats himself a bit.) One of his favorite questions: Do you know the two adjectives that characterize someone from our canton? Then he slowly answers: “Careful” and “careful”.

Careful. I am amazed how hard it is to build deep and fulfilling relationships with people, even brothers and sisters in Christ. Many are those who do not wish to take risks in loving sincerely, loving someone who may, eventually, break your heart.

All this was brought to mind recently when one of our members became very disappointed with the church and, when asked why she had left, had a ready list of faults and mistakes that many of us had committed.

One of ladies at church took it right in the chopper. “Who needs this?”, she asked. “I can do without it. Why should I take the risk of loving only to get it thrown back into my face?”

Yet great love takes great risks. I’m reminded of the words of Bonhoeffer:

God desires to lead us to a knowledge of genuine Christian fellowship, so surely must we be overwhelmed by a great disillusionment with others, with Christians in general, and, if we are fortunate, with ourselves.

It’s the price we pay if we’re going to love.

It's an iPod

2006-05-04T18:09:00.000+02:00

Thought you might want to know that you can get Diesel for 180 CH cents (that’s 1.47 USD for you in the new world). Yes fuel prices are on the rise here, too.

I know, some of you are paying $3.00. Sorry. I really am.

But before you put your SUV on the trans-Atlantic ferry to take advantage of the deal, realize that said price is for 33 ounces of the precious liquid, as in ONE liter. And last time I checked, it takes 3.7854118 liters to make one US gallon ($5.58 per gallon). I know it’s even MORE different (sic) for you Brits. (That’s why a pint is so much more fun there.)

So last Saturday evening, we filled up the van. We had run it dry, an orange “0” on the digital display. It cost us an iPod. Well, not just any iPod. It was somewhere between the Shuffle 1GB and the new iPod Nano 1GB.

That’s right. $120.50. Good thing we could just put it on the MasterCard.

I really don’t want your pity, thanks for offering. But if you want to send cash, that’d be okay.

Or just send us an iPod.

Teaching ideas?

2006-05-02T10:19:00.000+02:00

Here’s your chance to learn some French: Code Da Vinci.

Yes, the mania has hit here, so I’m reading through the book and making some notes, trying to think of ways to teach truth through the interest created by the book and movie.

What would you teach on if you were going to use Code Da Vinci as a spring-board? I’d be interested in knowing, so… Why not leave a comment?
--
Wife had her b-day yesterday. She received some nice things and appreciated all the calls and emails. Thanks.

Team Lausanne

2006-04-30T09:43:00.000+02:00

It was an international tournament, with teams from Marseilles, Paris, Thun, Zürich, Geneva, Schaffhausen and Lausanne. The men and women players ranged from 12 to 55 years old. Fans were enthusiastic but polite, often rooting for the underdog.

Yesterday afternoon the Third Annual Churches of Christ Indoor Football (soccer) Tournament ended with a first place finish by Team Paris.

Though we live in Switzerland, we know our French brethren much better than the German-speaking Swiss Christians. Two years ago, the Shaffhouse Church decided to host this tournament to encourage better relations between Christians on either side of the language barrier. Geneva participated that year and the following, and several of their members decided to host this year’s event. 6 players from Geneva made Lausanne’s contingency of 5 complete. Those who stayed the entire weekend slept in the nearby nuclear bomb shelter.

The toughest part of the tournament was when Lausanne, with Son 2 (goalie) and Daughter, played Marseilles and Son 1 (goalie). Wife and I cheered for both goalies and for Daughter whenever she dribbled the ball.

A church sports’ league may sound commonplace to you, but for Europeans it is a unique experience providing opportunity for cross-language communion and worship.

Middle Ages

2006-04-28T09:37:00.000+02:00

The lawyer on Swiss TV said that publishing the names of companies that broke hiring laws would be a step back to the Middle Ages. I saw the documentary on King Arthur and Lancelot produced by Monty Python, and I can assure you I don’t want to go back to the Middle Ages.

But that period is looking pretty good compared to the Roman period some are stuck in now. A Parisian friend reminisced about his frequent trips with his boys to see PSG play football (soccer) at the city’s stadium. Impossible now. Too dangerous. Even with over 2,500 policemen at the French Cup final on Saturday when PSG meets Marseilles.

The World Cup starts on June 9 in Munich. For the month-long event, Germany is importing 40,000 migrant workers. Prostitutes, that is. It seems that the local girls won’t be able to appease the appetites of dedicated sports fans.

In general, the press does not call the violence and lust “barbaric” or “uncivilized”. They are rather sad realities we moderns must learn to deal with, giving weight to the argument that we can resemble the Romans but should never adopt the morals of those poor souls from the Middle Ages.

Chocolate Problems

2006-04-26T11:52:00.000+02:00

Philippe and Dolores Dauner were here singing last week and, just for you, my dear Pepperdine Lectureship friends, I handed over almost 2.5 pounds of bite-sized, individually wrapped pieces of Swiss Chocolate, bought on sale at my third favorite store in the whole-wide-world.

Problem #1: How do I find Philippe and Dolores?

You could go hear him speak at Firestone Field house on Thursday morning (11:00), but I know many of you are not out of bed yet. And if you wait till then, the chocolate might be gone.
You could go to their class (Vision for a Generation: A Strategy for the European Mission Field Based on the Work in Marseilles, France) on Friday afternoon at 3:15. Some of you may be up by then, but I know the chocolate will be long gone.

Problem #2: How do I make them think I’m just happy to meet them rather than only interested in Swiss chocolate?

For the preachers and elders among you, this is no problem. You are good at making people think you care about them (even if you only want their chocolate).

Problem #3: All the chocolate is in one bag.

This really is a problem. Should the one who gets the bag share? (YES.) Will he share? (It depends on if an elder or a preacher gets it first.)

Youth retreat

2006-04-24T10:12:00.000+02:00

I hope you got a look at Saturday’s post. The three racers did well, though times were slower than last year. It was the hottest day of the year (so far), about 78 degrees. The runners were not used to that kind of heat so they slowed the pace. But Wife placed 10th out of the 130 in her category, and 19th out of the broader category.

Those of us who went to the near-Paris retreat enjoyed the weekend. Well, the kids loved it. Not much sleep, but lots of food and beautiful weather. New songs and times of fellowship with Bible study gave us opportunities to grow. The youth wore themselves out on the soccer field.

Here’s the place we spent the weekend. There was a 200 year old Giant Sequoia at the end of the drive and a beautiful rose garden near the entrance. An old chapel was off in one corner as well as living quarters for those who come regularly for spiritual retreat.

Ever had a youth activity in a place like that?

After the Race

2006-04-22T21:24:00.000+02:00

Here are Wife, Son 2 and K after their 10k race in Lausanne.

La Chorale Harmonie

2006-04-20T17:02:00.000+02:00

The local parish loaned us their building and the “Chorale Harmonie” from Marseille did a wonderful job communicating the gospel through song and words of encouragement. About a 100 people were present and the a cappella presentation of spirituals and hymns in French, English and Latin was powerful.

It was extra special because Son 1 was singing in the group. The vocal blend was excellent and the music chosen, from “Down to the River to Pray” to “God’s Gonna Trouble the Water” was right in their range and brought the best out of them.

But what was clearly communicated was their trust in God through Christ. The group is made up of singers from age 12 to 55 and they are on a mission to share the Message through song. I’m grateful they came back to Lausanne this year.
--
I’m off to a weekend youth retreat near Paris tomorrow. (Near there. Not there. Like Fresno is near Yosemite, but it’s NOT Yosemite). Daughter plus 15 kids from Geneva are traveling with a couple and me to the activity. Always interesting and reminds me of youth ministry days. (Eye twitch.)

Wife and Son 2 are doing a 10 K race through Lausanne. Lucky rascals.

LST recruiting

2006-04-18T13:29:00.000+02:00

We started our recruiting for Let’s Start Talking (LST) last week by writing to all the old participants and to those who showed interest in past years.

Almost all the “new” people in church here have come through this ministry. Though none were converted from non-belief to belief, they all were searching for deeper faith and ended up growing in communion with God through the program.

LST trains USA university students how to give English conversation courses to English learners. They use simple texts that are taken from the Gospel of Luke (or Acts for those who are repeaters). The one-on-one, free lessons are designed to communicate one important spiritual truth, one seed idea, per session. That’s all. Though the USA student does everything possible to guide the conversation to spiritual realities, the learner is free to go there or not.

About 80% of the participants who start the 6 week project survive to the end, which says a lot for LST. Most people keep coming back because the USA students listen and care deeply about them.

Please pray for our recruiting. We’re looking for 30 “readers”, people we can serve, people who are searching.

Easter post

2006-04-16T13:47:00.000+02:00

19 of us stayed for an after-church, Sunday meal together. I had taken a chapter out of N. T. Wright’s book Following Jesus and preached on Revelation and Resurrection. We read all of the Gospel accounts of the glorious event before and during worship.

We got Good Friday off. And Monday is off too. That means as many people as possible leave town for a few days of peace and quiet. It’s the last chance for students to rest up for the study marathon that takes them to the end of the school semester. It’s a long grind for them.

Son 2 had 5 friends over for a Star Wars films plus video game all nighter. The goal was not to sleep a wink and drink as much Pepsi as possible. From what I understood, they only watched one Star Wars. Somehow Monty Python & THG, with Spaceballs and the Fantastic Four made it into the night’s viewing. Had I known, I would have voted “NI!!!”
--
For you Lincoln buffs out there, J. W. Booth shot the President on Good Friday, April 14, 1865. He died the following morning. Of course, this year, Good Friday fell on April 14.

Good Friday

2006-04-14T10:44:00.000+02:00

For today: Matthew 26.47-27.61 and John 18.1-19.42.
For Saturday: Matthew 27.62, Job 14.1-14, Ps 16.5-11, Rm 6.3-11.
--
I’ve just finished today’s readings from the Gospels, those stories which describe a day of sorrows for the man of sorrows, and I’m reminded of a chapter from F. Buechner’s book Telling the Truth. It's the one on The Gospel as Tragedy where I seem to remember Buechner asking the question: Why do they call it Good Friday?

There is denial by friends, false accusation, interrogation, slapping, mocking. More questioning, more beating, more mocking…

Hand-washing, cross-bearing, nail-driving. Humiliation, question, abandon.

Disgrace and darkness.

Friday ends with a corpse lowered from a blood-stained cross. It ends with 70 pounds of burial spices smeared on a my-God-why-have-you-forsaken-me body. It ends with a wrapped cadaver placed on a bed of hard, cold rock. It ends with the grinding roll of a stone placed solidly before the tomb entrance.

I'm an alien

2006-04-12T11:37:00.000+02:00

Today we are reading John 12.37-50, Mark 14.1-11, Matthew 26.1-16.
On Thursday we'll read Mark 14.12-31, John 13.1-17.26, Luke 22.24-38.
--
Every 3 years, every member of our family is obligated to renew his/her resident visa. When we first came to Lausanne, I was able to get a renewable one-year work visa because Wife had been here since 1969. After I’d been good enough long enough, I got a three-year permit.

Everybody, Swiss or alien, has to register with the “population police” any time they move, even if it’s within the same city. I’m also supposed to have my permit on me at all times, though no authorities have ever asked for it, except at the bank or the post office.

When we travel, we’ve got to carry our passports to go through border controls in and out of Switzerland. Normally they just wave us through. But if they think we’ve got a carload of groceries, then they’ll stop us and ask if we’ve got anything to declare. That’s when I share my faith with them…

I hear in America there is much talk about immigration these days. Here, there are the same discussions, similar problems, but different arguments. But you never hear anyone saying we’ve got to let people stay because Switzerland is a land of immigrants.

Palm Sunday

2006-04-10T11:55:00.000+02:00

Our reading for Monday is Mark 11.12-18 and John 12.20-36. Tuesday’s is Matthew 21.28-25.46 and Mark 12.41-13.37.
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I cheated and didn’t preach about the triumphal entry yesterday, even though it was Palm Sunday. I guess I wasn’t in the mood because it’s become so, what’s the word, commercial.

Ash Wednesday was barely over and the stores were already playing Hosanna music. Chocolate palm fronds take up half the aisles in the grocery stores. The neighbor’s dancing palm tree display with neon lights makes it hard to sleep at night. It’s impossible to find a good donkey around because local pastors reserved them a year in advance for triumphal entry reenactments.

What is it with those “talking (plastic) rocks” that sing out “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord” every time you walk by? Do people really buy those things?

It’s time we stopped this blatant and irreverent “capitalization” of this important event. We should emphasized the REAL meaning of the day:

God who keeps his promise;
The humbleness of the King;
The joy of the people;
The blindness of the religious leaders;
Impending doom on an unbelieving city.

Then maybe, we’ll get back to the true meaning of Palm Sunday.

Confirmation

2006-04-08T16:45:00.000+02:00

Today, several of us from the Lausanne church are starting the Passion reading with John 11.55-12.11.

For Palm Sunday we will read Luke 19.29-44.

One of Wife’s best friends and a wonderful neighbor is celebrating the confirmation of her oldest daughter at the local Reformed Protestant Evangelical Church, Canton of Vaud (our State church). Wife helped her with the shopping and transport and heard all about the plans. The neighbor’s family is taking this seriously, but I’m not so sure about the State church.

Confirmation is deeply rooted in Swiss Protestant tradition. It originally confirmed infant baptism. Today it is a Palm Sunday ceremony where the candidate stands up and expresses his/her convictions, doubts, beliefs or lack of beliefs in front of the congregation.

The change was made recently because less and less youth were confirming. The process was seen as archaic at best, hypocritical at worst. Supposedly, adolescents were confirming for cash and presents. Integrity was being sacrificed for material benefit.

Many in the clergy were against the confirmation celebration because it made a distinction between believer and unbeliever and, for them, no distinction should be made. (Go figure.)

I haven’t asked neighbor’s daughter what she’s confirming… doubt or belief. I’m praying it’s belief.

Big Mac Index

2006-04-06T13:07:00.000+02:00

Some people think that just because you live in Switzerland, you are their source for unlimited amounts of chocolate, that the streets are paved in black chocolate, the walls are mortared in white chocolate, and that pralines are for the taking at each crosswalk.

Of course, Europeans know that Americans are the world’s source for unlimited numbers of hamburgers. And they ARE right. You drive by a busy street corner in Centerville, USA and there’s a BK on one corner, a McDonald’s on another, a Wendy’s just across the street and 12 Starbucks within spitting distance. (I know… They don’t sell burgers.)

I bring this up because of the Economist’s Big Mac Index, a faulty tool that measures currency parity between different countries. FYI, you pay $4.93 for a Big Mac in Switzerland verses $3.15 for the same tasty burger in the USA. This year, we took the lead for the most expensive fast food in the solar system (though Iceland and Norway are not on this year’s list, but I’m not sure they count as part of our solar system).

I love Lausanne, but it is expensive. We deeply appreciate our partners in ministry who generously help us out. Thanks.

Two encounters

2006-04-04T08:41:00.000+02:00

C. and I ran across a lady I hadn’t seen in years. She’d got fed up with our church and had moved on after 15 years of on-and-off investment. There were reasons. Her life was falling apart and we couldn’t fix it or even make it better.

She’s ok now. Separated from her husband, working seven days a week, feeling needed by those she works for. She’s honestly happier. She’s got life by the tail.

Since I don’t feel threatened anymore, I asked her where she “worships”. She said she’d just left a church after 5 years and was now attending an English-speaking church near her place.

She doesn’t speak English. Well, not much. But since she’s so solidly grounded in faith, who needs the teaching? She’s got it all down. (Her words.)

I think she’s grown. I remember her despising all of our English activities.

No lie, 5 minutes later we ran across another old friend whose son used to be a member (and good friend). She hardly recognized me. Said I’d aged. She asked where my hair had gone. “I really wouldn’t have recognized you had it not been for C.”

Tomorrow I’ll stay indoors and work on my sermon and wrinkles.

A Baseball Story

2006-04-02T14:05:00.000+02:00

Hi: Breaking tradition, here's a 450-word story about a kid who loves baseball. Thanks for stopping by.
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The kid grew up on baseball. He played it, watched it, listened to it, had even been betrayed by it. He’d collected the cards and memorized the box stats. He always took his fielder’s glove to the games. Always.

The sport united the kid to his dad. Giants’ fans forever, both lived and died (mostly died) through June swoons and play-off autumns.

The kid respected the game and the players. But he had never tried to approach one. It wasn’t that he was afraid of them. It was more like he was in awe. Talk about the players? Sure. Talk to them? Never.

For his 16th birthday, he asked for, and miraculously received, not a car, but a ticket to Row 6, Seat 15 in the right-center field bleachers, a Friday-night game against the Diamondbacks at AT&T Park. And dad was going too.

The late-April game day arrived and they found their seats. The kid was ready with hat, glove, wind-breaker, sunflower seeds, and a secret weapon, just-in-case. For Number 25 was already at #713.

In his first at bat with one man on, Number 25 slapped a pitch by an Arizona ace into McCovey Cove. The crowd exploded. The big-screen score board flashed “714” and showed the soaked and lucky ball holder being escorted to safety by stadium security.

Number 25 walked in the fifth.

He came up to bat again in the seventh and drilled an outside pitch into the bleachers, four rows up and over the kid’s head. As he and his dad turned to see who would catch #715, the wave of hands and gloves broke too soon and slapped the ball back at the kid, right into his glove.

He fell to his knees, his dad protecting him. Security materialized to escort them out. The kid didn’t rise. He huddled over the ball, secret weapon in hand, doing what he had practiced many times in the last week.

Finally pulled to his feet, the kid and his dad were guided toward a lower exit. Number 25 came out for a second bow. The crowd roared. The big screen then switched cameras to show the kid on the steps as he reached into his glove, grabbed #715 and, with all his might, launched it back onto the field in the direction of the slugger. The crowd gasped, then thunderously applauded the kid’s generosity.

A single camera followed the ball as it slowly rolled toward the infield on the thick green grass, then stopped. Number 25 jogged over, bent down to pick it up. But he didn’t. The huge smile left his face. For the camera image on the big screen showed a white ball with red seams and in large, black, permanent ink, two asterisks: the kid’s unmistakable commentary on the hero’s achievement.

19th hole

2006-03-31T21:41:00.000+02:00

Hi everybody. My blog went out of control and was hijacked by hackers. Golf hackers, that is. But that's all right. I used to love golf.

Except when I played with the guy who took a Mulligan on every hole and tee-ed up his shots on the fairway and foot wedged his ball out of the trap. Gimme's at 3 feet… Eraser in hand, as someone wrote.

Then he had the nerve to tell you he beat you by two strokes and I had to buy the brews. I mean the Dr. Pepper.
--
Today was my birthday, thank you very much. As a present, drop by on Sunday and read the only "story" I've written in years. I hope you'll like it, even if it's not about golf.

You are loved,
Brady

If God wills

2006-03-30T12:00:00.000+02:00

We are excited about this summer. Every three years we make a furlough trip to see Dad and Mom, Sisters and Brothers (+in-laws) and renew contact with supporters and partners in Fresno.

Son 1 will stay in Europe working the two-week kids’ camp and then following a short training in one of the French churches. The rest of us plan on bugging Beth and Randy for a week before visiting relatives in Arkansas and Kentucky.

The kids are thrilled to go to Mexico with Randy and Co. to build houses. Steph and I will get some down time and visit California, staying with anyone who will feed us. The five weeks we spend in Fresno are energizing.

The church in Lausanne plans all activities and worship times during our absence. The members miss us, but for eight weeks they get to do what THEY want. I appreciate their hard work and faithfulness.

We are blessed. My mission-teacher-friends tell me that 150 years ago those who went to Africa to teach the Gospel packed their meager belongings in coffins. They knew they would never be coming back and were ready to give it all, even their lives, to preach Christ.

St. Paul's

2006-03-28T10:53:00.000+02:00

This morning I’ll head into the rain for a five-minute walk to the local parish Reformed Church, called St. Paul’s. I won’t give you the whole name of the church. Way too long. Every Tuesday morning it hosts 30 minutes of prayer,

For the last 15 years I’ve been going to Bible studies and prayers in that church. There will be 5 or 6 ladies there, most well into their 80’s. My pastor friend Roger leads the meeting. There’s a $400,000.00 dollar organ and a paid organist.

Everything starts with the organ. Then a printed introduction and the singing of a hymn (with piano). A reading from the Psalms. Variation on a hymn (piano only). New Testament reading. Classical piece (piano). Short commentary on the second passage. Silence. Hymn (with piano). Responsive prayer reading. Spontaneous prayer (sometimes). Lord’s prayer. Blessing. Organ.

Recently, Roger told me there was a rebellion among the organists. In one of the monthly, 30 minute worship times, the group had decided on less organ, more prayer. The organists rebelled. Less playing time means less cash. Less cash means unhappy organists. His conclusion on a down day, “The church is run by money.”

Guess we need more prayer.

Fishers of men

2006-03-27T15:04:00.000+02:00

Did Peter and Andrew, James and John respond to the call, “I will make you fishers of men,” because of their love for people and their desire to bring them into covenant with God, or did they see the call as an inside track to Kingdom, close proximity to the Prince, their new nets pulling in political power and influence? (All for the common good, mind you.)

The more one reads Gospel descriptions of the disciples (and by the disciples), the less their early response to the call becomes an example to follow (though they should never be ridiculed). But Jesus, who knew what was in people, thus refused to reveal himself directly except through parable and sign and walk, slowly brought many of his followers to a life where they would carry the cross gladly and submit to the baptism obediently.

I think I’ll focus my eyes on the call of Jesus and on his fishing life-style rather than on the courageous, but misguided, response of the disciples. For everywhere in his sacrifice, his serving, his searching, his giving and his Message, the master fisherman is at work. And peoples’ lives are still changing.

Doctor visit

2006-03-25T11:13:00.000+01:00

Odd day today. A fever and chills kept me in bed yesterday.
--
When I see my doctor we have to get reacquainted each time, since I only go in for a yearly tuberculosis test (so I can do the kids’ camp in France). That’s ok by me. But there are major differences between medical visits in Lausanne and those I used to have in Fresno:

Here, I walk to the doctor’s office.
All of the magazines in the waiting room are in French, but they have exactly the same covers as those in American waiting rooms.
The doctor only makes me wait a maximum of 15 minutes.
I don’t have to sit in the examination room alone and naked for another 15 minutes. Normally, we are in the doctor’s office. And I’m not naked.
It is actually cheaper to see a doctor here than there. But I have to pay everything (by post) before getting reimbursed by insurance.

The biggest difference between Fresno and Lausanne is that 21 years ago, all the Fresno doctors were old men. Here, they all look like teenagers, and they seem to be surprised that I’m in good health.

Have a heathly/ful weekend.

Phine Whine

2006-03-22T13:26:00.000+01:00

For spiritual cleaning, check out this post. It's written by Bill Gnade at Contratimes. Great stuff.
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When I first discovered the blog world through Randy, passion, creativity and inspiration oozed from so many posts that I got hooked. I became a faithful reader of carefully chosen blogs. Several Fresno people encouraged me to blog. (Well, not several, but there was Sandra, and maybe my Mom.) I promised Wife I would write, but not whine. For blogs are not only a source of encouragement, but also a spot where folks park their whaaaambulances.

Is whining a basic human need? (I’m asking this because if you only knew how much I REALLY WANT TO WHINE TODAY, but I made a promise…) Or do a few of us just see the world in the same light as the Ecclesiast, whose every line is highlighted in the depressed disciple’s Bible?

Some of us really do feel bad about not counting our blessings one-by-one. Some of us are really lousy pray-ers and just pick back up what we just poured out. But we still desire (desperately) to see grace fill our hearts and actions. We want to follow the beaten missionaries’ example and sing at midnight.

I will try to sing bass today to Paul and Silas’ melody of love intoned in a Philippian prison. Well, that’s what I want to do… And maybe drown out the siren from my whaaaambulance.

Response

2006-03-20T10:13:00.000+01:00

RE: The Post “March 15”

FYI Cecil, Dr Zivalgo had nothing to do with us ending up in Europe. However, our second date was to see the Jazz Singer, and it's one of the reasons I'm in Europe today. They've NEVER heard of Neal Diamond here. (Sorry, Steve.)

Brent: I figure with interest, I owe you about $18,000. That may have something to do with us staying in Europe. But I'd rather owe it to you for all of my life than not pay you.

Randy: I will take you up on that meal. I’m sure it’s tripled in price since 1981. BTW, sorry about the keyboard.

It's funny, I thought of Greg during the LJ Silvers post. He's such a haute-cuisine / restaurant guy. I love the posts where a restaurant is mentioned. I’ll take you out when we get to LA.

Monsieur G.: There are no LJ Silvers in Switzerland, that I know of. There used to be a Wendys, a KFC, and a Subways in Lausanne. They are now history, as is the BKing in Geneva. However, we do have a Starbucks here, though I’ve never been.

And thanks Wife. The meal was fun.

Seize ans

2006-03-18T19:08:00.000+01:00

This little girl broke through into the light exactly 16 years ago today. Born early on a Sunday morning, she has brought lots of joy into our home.

Every dad should have a girl like Daughter. When she was younger, I’d walk into the apartment with a “I’m home!” and Sons would not even look up from their books. But Daughter would come running yelling “Daddy”. Man, it felt good to get home.

Happy Birthday, Daughter. You have truly blessed our lives. And may the next 16 years be even sweeter than the last 16.

March 15

2006-03-16T13:03:00.000+01:00

25 years ago yesterday a timid preacher wannabe couldn’t get up the courage to ask out a certain young lady. Easter break had just started, and like good Christians, my roommate, his fiancée and I attended Sunday night service at Highland in Abilene. About a thousand people were present. When my roommate to whom I will forever be grateful saw my not-yet-known-to-be future wife (NYKTBFW), he said we wouldn’t leave that sanctuary until I’d asked her out. After worship, with only 7 of us still lingering in that sacred hall, my roommate finally gave in. He asked her out for me.

He also loaned me 5 bucks. We all went to Long John Silver’s and ate a healthful meal of deep fried fish and deep fried shrimp and deep fried hushpuppies and cabbage disguised as coleslaw. Roommate and fiancée suggested I accompany NYKTBFW to her place in her car. They’d pick me up there. While waiting on her front porch ten minutes later, they drove buy honking. Deserted, I got invited in. We silently watched the end of Dr. Zivalgo with her roommate. I then walked home.

Every March 15 Wife fries fish, home-makes hushpuppies, grates cabbage for coleslaw, and we remember our first March 15 together.

Senegal

2006-03-14T08:35:00.000+01:00

It’s not every day that you discover a new continent. Son 1 is flying from Marseilles to Paris to Dakar to spend a week with Christians in Senegal, and it’s his first trip to Africa.

The Christians on Missions program has a goal of giving their year-long interns exposure to foreign cultures (as if living in a diverse, troubled neighborhood in Marseille was not culture shock enough). This year, they are going to Senegal as learners and will be spending time listening to Africans talk about walking the Christian walk in a country that is 94% Muslim. They will no doubt explore mosques, sit also at the feet of teachers of the Koran (Imams), and walk the streets of Dakar, soaking up the culture. One of the questions their teachers will be asking them is how they would go about bringing Jesus to this kind of culture.

They’ll be back in Europe in a week’s time. I’m excited for Son 1. Can’t wait to find out how it went…

Blinded by the structures

2006-03-12T15:11:00.000+01:00

The entire system was rotten, so rotten it stank unto heaven. In divine mission, Jesus had declared the temple a den of thieves and not a sanctuary of prayer. He had scattered tables and men, coins and chairs. With the same whip he had herded sellers and sheep.

Jesus had also proclaimed the temple’s ruin when he spoke of the destruction of the temple of his own body. One temple would be resurrected in three days. The other would fall, never to be rebuilt.

To this corrupt, sick, distracted and hypocritical structure a poor woman gave two copper coins as an offering to God. And Jesus praised her because: she gave more than any other. She gave all that she had.

The message did not take root. The disciples were soon caught admiring the wonderful stones and the size of the gates. They were still unable to see.

The lessons are numerous:
Our inability to see through God’s eyes…
The goodness in a person…
The force of generosity…
The example of trust…

Read the Gospels carefully this week. See Jesus at work and learn from him, keeping your eyes on people and off the structures. And there’s no telling what you’ll see.

What will happen today?

2006-03-10T10:25:00.000+01:00

You never know how a day will turn out once it starts, even with a list and an up-to-date agenda. I imagine that’s why study and prayer should start the day and leave their imprint on all that follows.

An old friend and parttime member called yesterday afternoon with news that his 80 year old mother was in emergency at the local university hospital. He needed to record her final words. Could I find a recorder and come?

25 minutes later, behind the curtain of stall labeled “I”, we prayed. Then two other family members arrived. Doctors discussed options. Surgeons were called. Nurses explained intensive care procedures. Decisions were made. Prayers were prayed.

Our old friend joined us for dinner. Also present were little Luc (his mom too had just been operated on) and C. with her nephew from Chile. We prayed, asking for healing and blessing. During the meal, a call informed us that things had gone well. Our old friend went home. C. went to Luc’s mom’s to help. Luc crashed here.

We later crawled into bed after and prayed about all that had happened, aware we should pray more, content to have been in God’s presence throughout the day, wondering about tomorrow.

Tram 12

2006-03-08T10:33:00.000+01:00

I sometimes use public transport to Geneva, biking down to the Lausanne station, a train to Geneva, a $4.00 bus pass for the days activities, riding trams from one Bible study (catechism) to another before catching the 22:36 train home.

Last night, tram 12 was only 1/3 full. The young lady in front of me was droning on in nasal tones to the young lady next to me.

Yes, I want to immigrate.(Where?) Canada will often take those of us who are handicapped. You know, besides other things, I can’t see in one eye, but I get on just fine. Sometimes I even forget that I’m handicapped. Do you have any pets? (No.) I have a dog. He’s ten years old. Do you have any children? (No. I’m not married.) Oh really? Let me tell you: You are one of the kindest people I have met. I think you are an exceptional person.

I stepped off the tram thinking that my fellow passengers had offered each other wonderful, yet simple, gifts: listening to and answering questions from a stranger who evidently doesn’t get much attention (and on a tram, no less!); sincere appreciation expressed to a listener: You are an exceptional person.

Geneva Retreat

2006-03-06T15:02:00.000+01:00

This past weekend, the Geneva church had their annual Winter retreat here in Lausanne. It’s great for us in that we get to participate in all the events except for sleeping in someone else’s bed. You know how it is when you share a room, or a hall, or a wing, with anywhere between 4 and 80 people. Different bedtime rhythms, different WC paces, different snoring tonalities. You get the picture.

The theme this year was from John 6.60, words of some of the disciples: “This teaching is difficult. Who can accept it?” We had good lessons from three teachers on some of the obstacles to stronger faith and ways to grow in trust in Jesus.

I had very little to do but lead a small group and make sure I got enough snacks during the breaks (very successful).

Sunday morning we woke up to 15 centimeters of new snow and, fortunately, nearly the entire Lausanne church made it for the joint worship and lunch. Lots of good things are happening in the Geneva church. A new meeting place for next month, perhaps a new, full-time European minister in the near future. I know you’ll pray for this work.

Lausanne City Elections

2006-03-02T18:12:00.000+01:00

A major task stands before Wife and me: voting in our first municipal election. A law was recently passed giving us longstanding foreigners of good reputation the possibility of influencing the local political scene.

We have a parliamentary system. You vote for LISTS, be it Communist, Green, Socialist, Central, Radical, Liberal or Right/Extreme right. Special poster boards cover the town. Admire the Cathedral and you get a free glimpse of a party candidate. Look at the mountains (the snow is incredible on those dark blue ranges), there’s someone’s smiling face in the foreground staring right at you.

I like looking at posters and deciding if the face matches the party. The farther left you go, no lie, the more pimples you’ve got and the longer it’s been since your last haircut. The farther right you go (here, Liberal means Right, not Left) the more Swiss-German you’ve got to look.

I’m thankful that the present government gave us the vote, but it’s time we kick the bums out and change things for the better. This year, I’ll vote centrist. We’ve got a Green government and a communist or two, and I’m pretty sure they’re responsible for the ugly posters in town.

Learning from your kids

2006-02-28T13:25:00.000+01:00

You can always learn things from your kids. I find out about all kinds of stuff when we sit around the table to eat. Son 2 and Daughter are high school math-physics majors (yes, you start your major before college) and they are always talking about apexes and “E” and other things of vital importance.

Wife has been reading one of Dave Barry’s more dated books on computers and she told Son 2 about one of his stories: an exploding whale in Oregon. I’m sure you’ve heard of it, but it was news to me. Of course, son 2 immediately googled for the OFFICIAL whale-exploding site and, between bites of sloppy joes at lunch (described in our kids’ English as: “It’s been a long time since we haven’t had those”) he gave us a blow by blow account of the video-documented fiasco.

Needless to say, the re-telling of the story by Wife and Son 2 were more interesting than the online video. When eyes shine and words get swallowed in laughter, you know you’re enjoying an unforgettable moment with family, even if it was at the expense of an 8 ton whale and an engineer’s pride.

Thanks for stopping by.

Up for Lent

2006-02-26T14:14:00.000+01:00

Ash Wednesday is this week, the day that brings many into the season of Lent that covers the 40 days before Easter, not counting Sundays which always celebrate the resurrection, even during Lent.

One of our recent visitors is trying to figure out what “luxury” to give up for Lent this year. Last year this active reader gave up frivolous novels. This year she thought she’d give up chocolate, but since she’s American and may never again have the opportunity to enjoy Swiss chocolate in this abundant context, it seems too big a sacrifice to make. I suggested giving up CNN, but this English-speaker just got her first television yesterday after 4 weeks without news. Plus, everyone’s got to keep up on the Bird Flu.

As we joked and brainstormed on things for HER to give up, it became clear that finding just the right sacrifice to make, not too big, not too small, would not be easy.

I am not a big Lent fan. We are called to enjoy stuff with thankfulness. But the season of Lent does bring perspective into a life made up of Fat Tuesdays. It can prepare us for Easter when our Savior gave it all up for us.

Gemunden

2006-02-24T21:45:00.000+01:00

Just got back from a wonderful week in Germany at a place called Gemunden, situated in a beautiful forest about 30 minutes northwest of Frankfort. We followed three Bible-study sessions each morning and 2 (or more) others each evening). Creative juices were flowing (the gospels have never looked so rich) as we fellowshipped with Christians from all over Europe and ate like kings. Wife has resolved not to eat for at least the next 3 days though she ran every day on those cold, country roads.

Son 1 was there and is doing well. Why is it so hard to say goodbye EVERY time. I thought it would just be the first time…

Saw Scott Raab. I did NOT know that he was a guitar playing, strumming and a-picking fool. The man has talent. On the last evening, we teamed up with two other men and sang a barbershop quartet version of “Take Me Out To The Ballgame”. We’re talking quality stuff.

It’s great to be back home with Son 2 and Daughter. Though I left my suitcase in Germany and 4 freshly baked pretzels in the “chauffer’s” car… The trip was worth it.

I’ll catch up on your posts tomorrow. Should be fun.

A. died

2006-02-20T08:19:00.000+01:00

Let me express to you my gratefulness for the prayers you’ve offered on behalf of A. He died on Friday evening, but not without knowing that several people from the world over were praying. He was thankful, and quite surprised, that he had become “international”.

A. wrestled, as many of us do, with unbelief. To put his confidence in God was a major obstacle. Even in his last few weeks, he struggled with giving up his life so that he might gain it. Two examples:

About a week ago, I sat next to him as he was dozing off in his hospital bed. He muttered “incroyable”. “Unbelievable.” As I spoke to him later he said that, essentially, overcoming his lack of belief was his next, difficult step.

The last time we spent an hour together, I asked him where he was in his walk with God. He replied: “I need to have more confidence in… (and a few seconds ticked away) myself.”

A.’s body will be buried on Wednesday. I won’t be there (Wife and I will be Bible students in Germany for 4 days) but I was privileged to spend sacred time with him these last few months.

Olympic Gold

2006-02-18T13:48:00.000+01:00

What’s it like to have the Gold Medal within your grasp, the sure thing, and then lose it? What’s it like to expect the Silver (you’re 60 yards behind with 6 seconds left in the race) then see your opponent on her derriere in the snow as you glide by for the gold?

Son 2 called me on the intercom: “Switzerland’s just won the gold in the women’s snowboard-cross competition. You've got to see how it happened.” (I thought he was making the sport up.)

Caught up in the moment, the American Lindsey Jacobellis did a "grab" move on a jump near the finish and fell. The three of us from the Swiss vantage point thought she was doing her best to please the crowd when she ate it. USA Today says she was just stabilizing her board in a crosswind.

It was a crummy way to lose. But I’ve seen football players, completely alone, drop the ball before the end zone, and a grounder go between a first baseman’s legs. Not fun ways to lose. And probably not the end of the world.

Any famous mess-ups that you can remember?

FYI: The Swiss have 6 medals including the Silver in Men’s ice-skating and the Gold in women’s skeleton. Don’t you just love the Olympics?

Hope

2006-02-16T09:22:00.000+01:00

A thought sometimes dances around inside my head when I reflect on death and suffering (brought to mind by the struggle of my friend A.—see previous posts), and it goes like this:

Jesus knew he would be rejected. He knew he would be beaten. He knew he would be condemned to a terrible death. He knew he would take his last breath on a cross.

But…
Jesus…
cheated…

He knew it wasn’t the end. He knew the “rest of the story”. He knew there was a resurrection. He knew he would sit at God’s right hand.

So the thought continues: Jesus’ suffering is not like mine. His death and mine are miles apart. For how much courage does it take to face death when you know your Father won’t forget you? When he’s mapped out a plan? When he’s made you a promise?

Hmmmmm…

When facing death, “in Christ” one knows…

It isn’t the end. He knows the “rest of the story”. He knows he will be resurrected. He knows he will sit at God’s side. That there’s a plan. That a promise has been made.

And so…
he too…
cheats…

Valentine's Day

2006-02-14T08:41:00.000+01:00

Last night, I went upstairs after about a two-hour absence and found that my kids had completely morphed. Daughter had Wife mending a white blouse, yes, a BLOUSE, that Daughter was planning on wearing to school today, “La journée d’élégance”. This is a girl who thinks she was born wearing overalls and a grey t-shirt.

Then Son 2 entered the room and I started crying. He was missing about a foot of hair! My son actually has a forehead and eyes!

So on this lovely Swiss Valentine’s Day, Son 2 got up early and put on his suit and tie. Daughter got up and put on her borrowed white blouse (yes, a BLOUSE), and I took a picture.
So have a Happy Valentine’s Day, my friends and family! Or, if you’re going to the local Swiss high school today, have a great “Day of Elegance”.

"Les caricatures"

2006-02-13T13:31:00.000+01:00

One of the English classes I would teach about once a month was for advanced speakers and dealt with “finding your perfect partner”.

Students were to rate the importance of the following themes for compatibility between lovers: disparity in education / economic levels, differences in religious preference, dissimilarity of pastimes, and smoking / non-smoking.

I failed to keep track of the results of the informal survey, but cannot remember a time when students answered that belief/unbelief in Jesus as the Son of God was a bigger issue than diverse hobbies; that trust in God outranked smoking preferences.

In fact, the general consensus was, “Education doesn’t matter. Faith even less. But don’t dare complain about my cigarettes after a morning out on the ski slopes.”

I deplore the violence and threats committed in recent weeks by some Muslims in some countries and the political motives behind the violence. But my point is this: the European press seems incapable of comprehending their capacity to insult people in matters as “unimportant” as faith. They may admit that their expressions are, at times, bad taste or even inappropriate, but insist that it’s really no big deal and that those who are offended should worry about issues of greater importance… Like the effects of second-hand smoke.

Going out

2006-02-10T11:56:00.000+01:00

One of the down-sides of Wife’s good cooking is that we don’t go out to eat much. In general, we hit the restaurants only when company is in town and at the end of February for our wedding anniversary.

You can actually eat lunch out for about $15.00. Well, sometimes. If you ask for a no-smoking section, they’ll often put the plastic no-smoking sign on your table, invisibly and mysteriously protecting you from second-hand smoke. But it’s getting better. There are no free refills, and iceless Coke, or Virgin (Branson) Cola, costs more than beer. Santé!

What is remarkable to our American visitors is the slow pace of the dining process. There are no waitresses named Sherry, Chris or Heather. And if you’ve got the table, you’ve got the table. No 43 minute turn-around time here. It may take 20 minutes to order and 20 more minutes to get your bill, but you do get used to it, and you actually get to have nice, long chats with those at your table.

So, when you come, we’ll mostly eat at home (a nice fondue or raclette) where kids ARE welcome, but don’t schedule any other events on the evening we go out.

A. (bis)

2006-02-08T16:42:00.000+01:00

I’m bummed. And a little angry…

A., my relatively new, 67-year-old friend, is in the hospital again. To visit him you put on a sterile “blouse” and mask then disinfect your hands. The leukemia has completely destroyed his immune system. He experiences extreme fatigue, some paralysis, but the pain is mostly under control.

We spent 10 minutes together as he kept dropping off to sleep. The time to talk more seriously about eternal things never arrived, a promise he’d made to me two weeks ago (during one of Federer’s Australian Open matches). Now I doubt that time will come.

As communicated in a past post, the sickness has completely deformed his visage. Now it’s sapped his strength. And the habit of saying “no” to God, or maybe just “later”, seems to have won out on this one.

I sometimes, maybe even often, doubt the power of God. But turning to the Creator in prayer for A. is so… not spiritual… but natural right now, and the right thing to do.

Thanks for stopping by.

Post-game wrap-up

2006-02-07T10:17:00.000+01:00

The French did fine considering what they had to work with: a 45 minute pre-game show, a European audience that doesn’t know the difference between a block and a tackle (wait… those were NFL refs!), a really ugly half-time band and a game that had lost its punch after the first series.

French coverage started with de-covered Miami Dolphins’ Cheerleaders doing a routine while a roaming camera filmed moving body parts. The hosts then gave a history of French players in the NFL (just two: Laurent LaFite (kicker, of course) and Jean-Pierre Derrière (bench warmer)*) and talked about American Football clubs in France (200).

The rules were explained with a 4 minute video clip (prepared by the NFL) then were later re-explained after disastrous calls. (Someone forgot to show the clip to the officials.)

I see one game a year, maybe, and see football “anew” each time: the size and speed of the players, the impact of the hits, the gladiator spirit of the game, the adulation of the fans…

It was 4:05 AM when I turned off the tube, happy to have lived an American moment, even if it was a sleeper.

Bring on Super Bowl XLI.

*Just kidding.

Super Bowl Monday

2006-02-05T15:15:00.000+01:00

That’s right, a 6:PM kick-off in Detroit makes it midnight here. A minute later, well, it’s Monday “Night” Football.

This is my first year to really watch it from my Lazy-Boy. The first few years it was in b/w and “coded” on the French pay “Canal+”. No lie, I would shake my head back and forth in front of the blurry screen and could often make out the score or see, sometimes, which team had the ball.

Later, I met some Chicago fans from Jamaica and got invited to see the match direct, in English, at their place. Great fun. They had a well-stocked fridge and knew everything about football, while I knew there was a player called The Fridge and a quarterback named McMahon who didn’t host the Tonight Show.

Then it was Super-Bowl desert. I’d read about who won in the Tuesday-morning USA Today (there was no Monday edition). Yep, life in Lausanne can be tough.

Two years ago a guy from church and I camped out at Larry’s and actually watched the WHOLE game, with a short nap before work. This year “France 2” will show it and I’ll be watching (at least the beginning).

But if you still want to record it for me, I won’t say no. There are no billion-dollar commercials here, and “le quarterback court pour un touchdown… quel play!” just doesn’t make it, even if the Pittsburg quarterback has a Swiss granddad.

As usual, I pick the Angels in 4.

Popcorn time!

2006-02-02T09:05:00.000+01:00

Yes, it’s February 2. Time to live out that old American Tradition, dust off the VCR and pop in one of the greatest films of All Times: Groundhog Day.

I do not feel guilty wasting time watching Bill Murray get out of bed for the zillionth time, year after year, every February 2. The “movie” is right up there with some of the great sermons of the Bible. It’s the closest thing we’ve got to a 1990’s look at Ecclesiastes.

I always try to live better after watching Phil (Bill) seek pleasure and self destruction, knowledge and service. I want to go out and buy a keyboard (“My father was a piano mover”), read the classics, learn CPR and lug a car jack (and a spare tire) around with me all day… I’m always hoping to snag a kid falling out of a tree.

No reason to parallel the writings of the Preacher and Phil Connors’ search in this blog. You can use your own imagination. But both creations end well. The Preacher declares that life is to be lived in the fear of God. And Phil? Well, he gets the girl.

Got to go. I hear the theme song starting…

Joyeux Groundhog Day!

P.

2006-01-31T13:42:00.000+01:00

I recently posted about P., our friend who has been fighting against his drug addiction. I saw him today. He's decided it's not worth fighting, at least for now.

He had given me his bank cards so I could pay his bills, but when I went this morning to do that, I saw he had emptied out well over half of his account in the last few days, leaving him and his daughter with nearly nothing to live on for the month (February!!!) and all the bills unpaid from last month.

He doesn't even remember what he did with the money. After a short discussion on the phone, he came and picked up his cards and headed off.

I write this knowing that you will pray for him. He may have to touch bottom before getting things in order. Or he may just sink. And then, what will he leave behind?

Arrogance

2006-01-28T13:48:00.000+01:00

I spent the week doing assessments of students who are in their last semester at the Glion Hotel School located about 40 minutes away. They’ll receive their BBA in six months. My friend (boss for a week) is a partner in a consulting firm that handles the orientation for students’ future employment, counsel based on interviews and psycho-metrics. I’ve told you about it before. It’s a great opportunity for me to make good money real fast in a legal way.

What came across this time more than ever was the difference between self-confidence and arrogance. I’d always thought the two were difficult to distinguish. Not so. The arrogant no longer sees himself as a learner. Pride certainly does precede the fall.

Even in our confidence in Christ, we must see ourselves as learners… Of God (in his fullness)… Of the Bible… Of others. Continually observing. Continually asking questions.
--
Loaned Blue Like Jazz to one of the consultants with whom I’ve spent time conversing about God. In his hotel room that first night, he read the first 50 pages. He came up to me the next morning and told me he’d learned that HE was the problem. (Does THAT ring any bells?)

Enjoy the weekend.

Addict

2006-01-26T19:48:00.000+01:00

I’ve known P. for several years. He has all the religious, feel-good vocabulary down. He can witness you to death. But P.’s an addict, and circumstances led to the point where he could only see his son if I was there for the hand-off between P. and his (separated) wife.

About 5 months ago he stopped talking to me. I had become his enemy. I’d expected it since often addicts aren’t too stable in their relationships. Then 2 weeks ago P. gave me a call, needing my help. “Before, you offered to take care of my finances, help me pay the bills. I want to give me my bank cards and access to my account. Will you do it?”

After several visits, a few times with the church, P. gave me his cards. But, he crashed and burned this last weekend. (Did you know you can get drugs even though you don’t have money? Pushers are good friends. They keep in contact.)

P. is enslaved yet thinks he can beat the habit. Shaking and sweating, hurting all over, the need controls his thinking.

A friend of mine says were all addicted to sin. Ever since Eden, we can’t get off the habit. Praise God that he can “fix” it.

Last days

2006-01-24T07:07:00.000+01:00

D. asked me to meet with his father, André, who’s in the last stages of Leukemia. We hit it off pretty well just before Christmas, and since then he’s invited me back every week to talk more about Jesus. He needs to embrace Eternal Life, yet there is much resistance.

André was an actor and was quite handsome, but now innumerable tumors cover his body. His clothes hide most of them, but about 50 cover his face and forehead. When he looks at himself, he sees death.

André defends his non-conversion by saying: “I could never be a priest or a pastor, preaching to people the Gospel.” Or: “There are some people I just can’t do good to. I just say, ‘To Hell with them!’”

Each time we set up an appointment, he tells me that he’s not sure he’s going to be “here”. The response, as kindly as possible, is: “Then why aren’t you getting ready for Eternity?”

André broke my heart today. Federer was playing Haas in the Australian Open. André was more interested in the match. I can understand being more interested in sports than in Bible study. Really, I can. But if you only had a few days to live…?

Mountains

2006-01-23T09:12:00.000+01:00

Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains,
Your judgments are like the great deep (Ps 36.6)

If you have a view of the lake, know that it will “hide out” from time to time. Wife, about 15 years ago, met some neighbors that had moved here from Germany. They had a great apartment with a wonderful view of… the fog. For their first 30 days here they never saw the lake, not even once, though it was less than two miles away and they towered 600 feet above it. Then one morning the sun broke through and they had a splendid view. Yes, splendid!

Evian is on the other side of Lake Leman from us, and the French Alps rocket straigh up to around 8,000 feet behind that lake-side city. More towards Geneva, peeking through the valleys, you can see Mont Blanc rising 15,780 feet above sea level. But the most wonderful views are towards the southeast, in the Canton of Valais, where glaciers and the Rhone river have cut a narrow path leading to Italy.

Behind us are the Jura mountains. They climb to about 5000 feet and are covered with snow this winter. Lausanne is a beautiful place to visit. So come see us.

C. on Ice

2006-01-20T08:22:00.000+01:00

Last Sunday morning three of those present had hands wrapped up or in a cast from cuts, falls or sudden shocks. One those is C., our church treasureress.

Lausanne’s got workers that clean the sidewalks/crossings when snow comes. This is very important in a city where everyone walks, and walks a lot. C. was crossing the icy street in front of the grocery store and did one of those 10.0 falls in the middle of the street.

(Flashback): When I was at ACU, there was a place on the walkway to the Coliseum where chapel was held that was big entertainment to
godly students. At a certain spot, just feet away from the entrance hall, ice would form on cold days and the ignorant chapel-goers would go sprawling. Dozens of sadistic students (all professing Christians) would stand behind glass windows and watch fellow classmates and respected professors bite the ice.

(Present): C. picked herself up (she’d actually torn ligaments that ripped away the bone in her wrist, forcing an operation later), reentered the store. Not to complain, but to buy a kilo of salt which she carefully spread on the icy crosswalk.

I love that kind of heart, don’t you?

Walk sure footed this weekend, and if you fall, warn others so they don’t.

Team Handball

2006-01-18T13:25:00.000+01:00

Not everyone everywhere plays the same sports, even if there are gazoogles of NHL teams in Florida.

Our kids grew up in a fun gymnastics club. When the boys decided to get “serious” about sports, Son 1 chose the Olympic sport “Team Handball”. After several years on the same club, he became a goalie. Son 2 plays pivot.

Normally you play indoors on a basketball-sized court with a netted rectangular goal on each end, a half circle painted 6 meters from the goal in which only the goalie can roam. You have a half-sized soccer ball that you pass to your teammates. You can dribble the ball, and there is a “traveling” rule.

The offense’s objective is to pass and fake and jump until the defense is totally confused, then find the open teammate who will launch the ball with all his force from less than 20 feet away at the unsuspecting goalie. You receive no points for hitting the goalie, but score a moral victory if you knock him out of the game.

The defense’s objective is to protect the goal by slapping around the offense, looking surprised when called for a foul, shaking your head when the goalie flinches.

Indispensable

2006-01-16T09:32:00.000+01:00

We’ve got a friend who is the only person around qualified for the job she does. About 50, originally from the North-East (USA), she speaks fluently “accented” French and uses all her energy ministering to young and old alike.

Contact her and she’ll likely be visiting one of the older ladies in the huge apartment building where she rents. God has used her to convert several of these widows who reach out to other widows. Our friend organizes a Seniors’ Retreat every year. About 20 were together last fall, praying and studying the Bible, doing arts and crafts and hunting for mushrooms.

She plans the menu for 140 during the summer youth camp. She assembles a team and dispenses her force, following every French cooking regulation and feeding every camper.

In a word, our friend is indispensable to the French work, an arm or a foot to the Body of Christ. Her only desire is to stay in France and work, live near poverty level, no retirement, visit her children maybe once a year, happily exhaust herself in service.

But she has lost her financial support. Some of her ex-funds will go to a new building. Perhaps others to where the work is growing faster.

We “European” workers are thankful for all we receive, but know that our ministry can be effectively stopped when supporting churches make budget decisions.

Politics

2006-01-12T16:28:00.000+01:00

When we arrived in Switzerland, Wife began teaching me French, 3.5 hours per day, one-on-one. During that time, I stumbled upon a book that promised to teach me French in 90 days, creatively entitled: French in 90 days. One chapter consisted of a list of questions… Conversation starters, if you like. And one of the questions was (and please, silently read this with a French accént):

Vat do you tsink of tsee political situassioooon?

I was ready for Charles, an elderly member of the Lausanne church, when he got stuck with me alone for an hour. At the café, I popped my well rehearsed question. And he was off for 45 minutes of “discussion” as I pretended to understand, nodding all along.

I think we solved many problems that day.

30 months ago in California I shared some political opinions, and probably came close to losing my support. I also spoke up once around some relations and was really convincing, but they don’t talk to me anymore.

So we have a rule here: To evangelize, never talk USA politics (even when asked) and never give an opinion about the death penalty. Just nod. Politics are cultural.

Just ask Arnold.

Christmas Day Worship

2006-01-10T11:25:00.000+01:00

Like most of you, our Sunday morning Christmas Day assembly was the three W-s: Worshipful, Wonderful and Well-attended. Sure, not everybody came. But we still had a full house (we do, um, have a small house…) and 20 of us stayed for a Christmas Day meal together.

This is in contrast to the growth-minded, large churches I read about on the USA Today site a few days before Christmas:

Cally Parkinson, a spokeswoman for Willow Creek Community Church in South Barrington, Ill., said church leaders decided that organizing services on a Christmas Sunday would not be the most effective use of staff and volunteer resources. The last time Christmas fell on a Sunday was 1994, and only a small number of people showed up to pray, she said.

"If our target and our mission is to reach the unchurched, basically the people who don't go to church, how likely is it that they'll be going to church on Christmas morning?" she said.

I just finished Frost and Hirsch’s book, The Shaping of Things to Come. They write: Christology determines Missiology which determines Ecclesiology. Then they continue:

If we get this the wrong way around and allow our notions of the church to qualify our sense of purpose and mission, we can never be disciples of Jesus, and we will never be a missional church.

I think I get their point. I’ve just always considered worship, even corporate worship, as what those who have offered themselves to God love to do (or to be). Even on Christmas.

21 years and the same address

2006-01-08T13:42:00.000+01:00

January 8 marks the anniversary of our official arrival in Switzerland 21 years ago. It was the day we became permanent foreigners.

We questioned our staying power about 5 years after our arrival. Doubts also pop up when members leave, or when we’ve suffered a major defeat, or when ideas refuse to flow, or our hearts grow stubborn to change, or when people we’ve counted on suspect our motives.

Wife’s Father told me in 1983 that it would take 30 to 35 years for the church to be mature enough to make it on its own. He said too many people had come for 2, 5 or 10 years and then left before the work was done. I can understand why. But most of us stay “here” because this is where we were put, and after a while roots go down too deep to leave. You get used to being a foreigner. And you think maybe this is where God wants you for now.

Just think, 1095 Sundays with the same preacher! What a patient Body!

Sometimes people ask us what we miss most about the USA. For me, it’s the 4 F-s: Family, Fellowship, Football and FCostco.

Thanks for stopping by.

Epiphany

2006-01-06T16:52:00.000+01:00

Today is January 6. Epiphany Day. Ukrainian Christmas. The day of the Kings (I know, Magi, but here they say Kings). The day we take down the Advent Calendar.

It’s Wife’s Father’s Saint day. He learned at age 5, while attending the village school for the first time, that his first name was NOT Stephan, but rather EPIPHANIUS. You can imagine the trauma as the classmates made up a song honoring little Epiphanius.

The priest could name a newly baptized child whatever he wanted. Though the parents chose Stephan, when baptism came around (near May 13, after the melting of winter snows) the priest chose that “blessed” name.

Needless to say, as soon as Father-in-law had the chance, he became Epi Bilak. He chose a name he wanted.

Today’s Epiphany Day. Brother and Sisters Bilak will make bread CROWNS… Six buns baked in a circle, one of which hides a porcelin king. He who finds it (without breaking a tooth) is crowned for the day.

So we celebrate the day with a fun tradition, tinged with a bit of sadness. But Hope states that Epi has received the crown he always wanted and a new name. One made for eternity.

Do you believe in resolutions?

2006-01-04T11:23:00.000+01:00

A once-upon-a-time-good friend from Morges, Switzerland used to listen every December 31 to U2’s New Year’s Day:

And so we are told this is the golden age
And gold is the reason for the wars we wage.
Though I want to be with you,
To be with you night and day.
Nothing changes on New Year’s Day.

The song echoes the opinion that, try as you might, nothing changes, even on New Year’s Day.

Another snappy (love that word!) tune on my Mac is by Carolyn Arends.

I buy a lot of diaries
Fill them full of good intentions
Each and every New Year's Eve
I make myself a list
All the things I'm gonna change
Until January 2nd…

Poor Carolyn… But she keeps singing…

So this time I'm making one promise…

Chorus: This will be my resolution
Every day is New Year's Day. (repeat)

One more chance to start all over
One more chance to change and grow
One more chance to grab a hold of grace
And never let it goooooo… (Repeat chorus until you believe it…)

I know I desire for change in my own life: Less anger; more love, thankfulness and contentedness; greater devotion. And I know it’s possible, despite disenchanted lyrics.

For the Spirit does say that we ARE being transformed…

Not a renter…

2005-12-28T15:00:00.000+01:00

Last Wednesday, Wife and I sat in the lawyer’s office reading and rereading the documents before us, ready to sign to buy the house on Ave. de France. It took three hours.

Wife’s father first bought the building in 1983. It was a mess. Though centrally located, the rooms were water damaged and the place unlivable. Three floors, and not a room you could sleep in comfortably. A year later, with contractors and help from brothers and sisters the world over, he re/built his radio broadcast recording studio, a worship place for the local church, offices for Slavic World for Christ, and a two bedroom apartment on the top floor.

That’s the apartment we rented in January of 1985. Much later, Wife’s parents moved office to home and we moved into the three bedroom apartment (1996).

He left us enough to make the down payment (Swiss law stipulates 20% of purchase price) and to get loan payments of less than 33% of salary (bank's requirement).

The loan is for 100 years, renegotiable in 2015. Interest is 3.28%.

So the church will still meet in the neighborhood for at least 10 years. We’re glued here for another 100.

Boy, do I feel secure. ☺

2005 Books

2005-12-24T07:52:00.000+01:00

I’m going to mention the few books I read in 2005 that I’ll probably read again (or already read twice this year). There aren’t 10. There in no specific order:

Come to the Table by John Mark Hicks. Subtitle: Revisioning the Lord’s Supper.

Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller. A recent defense of Christian spirituality.

Life on the Ash Heap by Jim McGuiggan. Deals with suffering from Job. VERY GOOD.

A Theology of the Social Gospel by Walter Rauschenbusch. Written in 1917. All theology seen (rightly or wrongly) through the lens of social justice.

The Shaping of things to Come by Michael Frost, Alan Hirsch. Not all chapters are equally good. But some are too good.

The Message. “Translation” by Peterson. 9 pages a day and it’s finished in a year.

The Quiet American by Graham Greene. A novel set in Vietnam, written in 1955. Did LBJ ever read it?

Of course, I’d be negligent if I didn’t mention your blogs which tend to lighten up my day, often make me think and, from time to time, make me want to visit a Costco on Christmas Eve.

Enjoy the day…

Christmas Presents

2005-12-22T13:48:00.000+01:00

It’s time for our first annual EVEN DAYS “If Only I Could Really Give You These Things” Awards sponsored by the College Church of Christ in Fresno.

This is that time of the year when we think of those who drop by our blogs wishing we could sit together around a plastic Christmas tree, sip eggnog and spit sunflower seed shells onto ye ole flaming Yuletide log.

To Randy I give a new study, out of the basement, and intelligence in all things, from Mice to Men. And several ping-pong victories over Tadd.

For Greg I’ve ordered Ima Picken Bass’ book on Frustrated Rock Stars and the Origin of their Addictions.

To Cecil, from the local Home Depot, I’ve ordered a new sander and designer varnish for the Table, and pre-ordered plywood sheeting for Hurricane Omega.

To Steve I send a new Kitchen. And a no parking sign to hang in it.

To Keith I send a hearty SINCORAMAKWAHANAMAS, and may you be more Incarnational every day.

For Sandra I’ve ordered a leather motor cycle jacket and the book, Blogging without Guilt.

To Son 2 and Daughter who always read but never comment on this blog, I send… Well you just wait. Sunday’s a coming.

To Son 1, a warm welcome home.

To any supporters reading this: My deepest appreciation for your trust. You are amazing.

To Wife: A new food processor.

Dear bloggers, enjoy your gifts. To those I forgot: Your check is in the mail

Ternopil to home

2005-12-20T13:25:00.000+01:00

The trip home was uneventful. An overnight train to Kiev. One of those old diesel trains with ancient wagons where you pay to try to sleep the trip away. Rick, a preacher in the Shevchenko church (the only Kiev church that uses the Ukrainian language) met Vlodya and me at 6:30 Saturday morning (bless his heart) and dropped us off at an apartment where we were able to read and rest. The flight out of Kiev to Milan and on to Geneva was uneventful, and I arrived in Lausanne by train at 11:15 pm. Good to be home!

A great group was present for Sunday morning, and after a potluck (AGAPE) meal together the family headed to Geneva for the year-end program. The singing was excellent, the kids adorable, and the visitors happy to have come.

Jordan arrived at the Geneva train station later in the evening. He’ll be around till December 27.

I’m planning on driving back to Ukraine sometime in March or April, 2006, carrying back some of Father-in-law’s Ukrainian books, about 600 kilos total. It’s almost a 3 day trip one way, and I need someone to come with me.

How ‘bout it?

A Monk's Life

2005-12-16T10:32:00.000+01:00

No TV. No Radio. No Internet. No phone. No noise.

It's amazing how much thinking and dreaming you can get done. And pray if you want to. This is a great place to study and teach. All you have to do is fill up on the Word, then teach it later in the day, wait for questions, then go back to your apartment and get ready to answer the questions. Seeking wisdom.

I'm sure it would get old in a short while (I always miss the family about 13 minutes into the trip), but it is refreshing. And new ideas tend to flow.

All the teaching is translated into Ukrainian. Two night's ago we did a textual study of Ephesians 4.7 ff and that was a challenge, not because of the interpreter (she's great), but because my English Bible translation and the Ukrainian translations varied (good thing I'd learned the Greek text by heart). We worked through it, with me receiving the new insights. The 2 hours flew by.

Last night, after meeting with the single ladies for a couple hours, we spent time in Foster's chapter on Self-Righteous gifts and God-Glorifying gifts. He has practical insights.

And I forgot to mention lunches, which last each day from 2 to 4 pm. Fortunately I was able to walk for 3 about three hours the other day. And it all brought back memories of times here with Wife's Father. He loved this town and its people.

Thank you for your prayers and for stopping by.

Sunday in Ternopil

2005-12-11T12:40:00.000+01:00

The oldest member of the church arrived first this morning. She's 90, according to Vlodya. Most of the members come in quietly, all bundled up (it's heated inside but still about 60 degrees). I don't know why the older women cover their heads, but it's true that everyone wears a hat outside. It's an unwritten Ukrainian rule, I think. Anyway, we stand to pray. We stand to take the Lord's Supper (Cecil: I was pleased to see the table at the front in its rightful place!) People listen attentively.

Then I gave an exhortation on eating in the presence of God. Worship is a serious matter here, especially the Lord's Supper. So we studied through some of the celebration passages and the joy we have being in the presence of the Lord. Just a little information to compliment their deep faith. Children finish the 2 hour worship with a play where "the tongue" is put on trial. (I think he was guilty, but I don't speak the Ukrainian tongue...)

The Ukrainians I know are extremely hospitible. The first time our kids came with us to Ukraine, they couldn't believe how people who LESS than they did could be so generous. The only way to give something to one of the Christians was to do it the first day. If not, they would load you down with gifts.

In fact, in two minutes, I will sit down to a real home cooked Ukrainian meal. The fellowship will be good. In fact, it promises to be the plat de resistance.

Thanks for stopping by.

Ternopil, Ukraine

2005-12-09T10:24:00.000+01:00

I’m flying Saturday morning to Ukraine. After meeting up with people in Kiev, it’ll be the night train to Ternopil in western Ukraine (NOT Chernobyl, though they do rhyme). There will be opportunities to teach and preach for the entire week, before coming back to Lausanne on Saturday.

My first visit to Ternopil was in Jan-Feb 1991. Wife’s dad and I drove for 4 days to get there. Terrible roads. No gas. Lots of pickles. Snow 6 feet high on each side of the road in the Carpathian mountains. When we arrived in Ternopil, all the apartments looked exactly the same: dirty-grey in the foggy light of the setting sun. But we found a distant relative and worshiped with a house church that Sunday. They graciously asked Wife’s dad and me to preach. They listened intently and asked many questions, stuffed us with food and asked more questions. Later we visited, it seemed like, every local city official and made plans for the future.

We were both struck by the spiritual thirst of the women. And yes, they continue to be the backbone of the church of Christ in that community.

Advent Calendar

2005-12-07T15:15:00.000+01:00

It’s old news to some of you, but it’s time for our Advent Calendar. Some of you are saying: What a great idea! Others: What the heck is Advent?

I really don’t know when in church history it all started, but Advent is made up of the four Sundays before Christmas (this year: 27 November, 4, 11, 18 December). In many churches there is even an Advent Liturgy to prepare believers for the coming (the FIRST advent) of the Christ. With each new Sunday, people light a candle, till all four are lit the last Sunday.

ANYWAY, about 6 years ago, I got to thinking, “How can we connect with some of our neighbors who think we’re a sect even though we’ve been here 15 years and we rarely sacrifice chickens?” The Advent calendar on the front of our “house” was the answer. In late November, I put up numbers 1-24 on the outside wall. Then, on December 1, it’s up the ladder in the morning darkness to hang the first wood re-liefs (60x60 cm kind-of-3D panels that we made ourselves). They tell in chronological order the birth of Christ. Plus there’s a web site that French-speakers can go to and read the real story (and read ahead, if they want. You can see it by clicking on this post's title...).

We’ll have a small open house on December 19 for folks from the neighborhood. And then, before you know it, Christmas is over.

Answers

2005-12-05T15:40:00.000+01:00

O.K. Let me finally clear out my in-box with the following:

Jim McGuiggan’s site is http://jimmcguiggan.com/. I often listen to the audio as I clean out my office (when I finally get around to it). He even answers his emails. (I read his “Life on the ash heap” book on Job just a few months ago and was blessed.) My favorite line when he preaches: I’m not angry, I just sound that way! (Some preachers yell when the point is weak. Jim yells when he feels like it. Definitely NOT a screamer, though.)
--
Ascension books: Basically, the two following books are a history of Ascension theology, and both are good…

He Ascended into Heaven, J. G. Davies (1958). You can usually find it at Abebooks.com (great site. Ask Greg.) It was the first book written in English on the Ascension in something like 50 years.
Ascension and Ecclesia, Douglas Farrow, (Eerdmans, 1999). Much more in-depth than Davies. Only to read if you really want to know what everybody thought about Ascension. Not a light read, at least for me.
Ascension Now, Peter Atkins, (The Liturgical Press, 2001). O.K. Pretty practical and pretty short. I liked it better the second time through. Anyone can understand it though he dwells excessively on the paradox of the “absence” and the “presence” of Christ.

Just realized I really can't count…
--
Will you pray for our future? Signing for a loan for a “permanent life” with an unforeseeable financial future shakes my faith.

Taizé

2005-12-02T08:14:00.000+01:00

I want to put up Jeanne’s dad’s message that he sent out to the church, but I need to talk to him about it first. I will tell him you are praying. Thank you.
--
There is a religious retreat center/movement here in Europe called Taizé. The place is not too far from Lausanne, and lots of youth go there. Several of the protestant and catholic parishes send young people there for retreats, and from what I’ve heard, up to 5000 people meet together from all over Europe, from all different languages.

One of Wife’s friend’s daughters spent 10 months there and really enjoyed it, according to wife’s friend (though she said the daughter came back as sassy as ever – Is sassy still a word?).

But in an article in the recent protestant publication, this daughter said:

A Taizé, il y a à la fois beaucoup de monde et beaucoup de silence…

Oops…

At Taizé, there is at the same time lots of people and lots of silence (in worship). In the local parish, it’s the opposite. There are 10 people in the church, but lots of words, and little silence.

Now, I’m not a true Taizé fan, but that’s made me think: Few people. Lots of words. Lots of people, lots of silence.

Could our worship time really include lots of silence before our God, or would we have to have a video presentation and humming in the background to keep ourselves interested? (I’d probably be counting the number of times people cough per minute. I guess that’s my math side…)

Thanks for stopping by.

Jeanne

2005-11-30T10:43:00.000+01:00

When I asked for prayer requests before the beginning of last night’s Geneva Bible study, Mark raised his hand and whispered that his and Brigitte’s 6-month-old daughter, Jeanne, had gone to be with the Lord earlier that morning.

This tiny little girl came into our world with Downs and a heart defect, welcomed by a loving family. Although she had trouble getting enough nourishment, we nearly always saw her awake and attentive. She even attended our summer youth camp, “working” in the laundry room with Brigitte.

She entered the hospital 10 weeks ago for corrective heart surgery and never came out. She put up with a lot more medical stuff as the family and doctors did their best for her, trying to guarantee a more healthy future.

What do you do when parents pray for weeks on end, when a church prays and prays, then suddenly receive tragic news? We gathered around the couple, held their hands, and prayed some more. And we encouraged each other to hold firm to our hope.

Jeanne is survived by mom and dad, two older brothers and an older sister.

Pastoral retreat

2005-11-28T14:57:00.000+01:00

Just got back yesterday evening from our weekend Pastoral retreat with many of the servants, workers and teachers (no prophets) from the French-speaking churches in Europe. I organized this year’s program and it went o.k.

The goal of this retreat was to get the churches to think about reaching out to their neighborhoods through good works. We asked everyone the question: If the church changed neighborhoods, would anyone know that you were no longer there? Would it make a difference? Then we taught and discussed the themes:

The Catholic Church and the culture of good works;
Becoming a neighborhood church;
The church and the poor;
Obstacles to good works.

I find it interesting that the Catholic heroes are St. Francis of Assisi, Theresa of Calcutta, Abbé Pierre, JP II (people known, most often, for good works)… While most Protestant heroes (Zwingli, Luther, Calvin, Graham) are theologians or teachers. I’m sure there’s a reason. But maybe we could do with some balance.

Lausanne Thanksgiving

2005-11-25T14:04:00.000+01:00

There is no official Thanksgiving in Lausanne, unless you come by our house. The 20 pound Turkey was just enough (we’re thinking maybe it wasn’t 20 pounds) and there were all the veggies and the sweet potatoes, which Wife found I-don’t-know-where because they really DON’T exist here. But they were on yesterday’s table.

29 people enjoyed each other’s company and the food. I truly believe it was in that order. Those present? Some Americans, some travelers, Son 1’s group from Marseille, Let’s Start Talking contacts, here a person… there a person…

Pecan pies and pumpkin pies, plus a Lausanne Thanksgiving Tradition: Agatha’s Chocolate Mousse. If the Pilgrims didn’t have it on that first Thanksgiving, they definitely should have.

A few people were missing who should have been there. But some were sick. Others have moved away. Others have gone on to be with the Father. And we missed them all.

How can it really be Wife’s favorite holiday? She plans for weeks and cooks for days. She makes sure that everyone who needs to be there is there, and if they can’t make it, why she just schedules another one (next week, Friday night at 7:00 pm). Do come on by.

Just call ahead of time, please.

Telephone talk

2005-11-21T20:10:00.000+01:00

‘mericans remark when they come to our home the absence of telephone calls. This is not necessarily because people don’t like us, though I imagine that could play a role. Plus we answer the phone yelling “WHAT DO YOU WANT AGAIN?”. But I think the real reason is because you get to pay for every telephone call you make. Call neighbor: pay for it to the tune of about 5 cents a minute prime time (mpt). Call across the country and you pay 5 cents mpt. Call America and it’s about 10 cents mpt. Call America to someone’s cellular… same price. (Call the USA on weekends and pay $2.40 (total) for anything from 30 minutes to an hour… the same price. I called Mom recently and talked 30 minutes and 40 seconds. I got the 40 seconds for free.)

Call from your Swiss land-line to a Swiss mobile and pay 4 to 5 times what it costs to call the USA. Needless to say, when people give us their mobile numbers we just laugh. They really think we’re going to call them for that price? I mean, we’re not THAT close.

There’s like a 12 hour period where you can call people (on weekdays). It’s between 9 and 9. Call later, and you have to excuse yourself ten times. Really. Call before, and it’s about the same thing, even though there’s a law that all Swiss have to be out of bed by 6:45. Unless they were up late the night before on the phone… to America.

Qualified

2005-11-18T13:31:00.000+01:00

Switzerland did lose 4-2 against Turkey but still qualified for the final phase of the 2006 World Cup in Germany because of goals scored away. Well done, Nati. My other predictions missed the mark too. After the game the teams DID express their affection for each other. One of the Swiss players was hospitalized with a ruptured urinary tract (guess how that happened…) while 3 others were slightly injured.

There were a thousand cars in the middle of Lausanne at 10:30 pm. Fans waving flags and honking horns. And honking horns. And honking horns… I was on my bike, slowly ascending the hills (Lausanne is on a BIG hill), passing cars, receiving greetings from those fans sticking out the windows of their vehicles. Even the drivers were hanging out of their cars or driving with their heads through the moon-roof. It was exciting. Specially for a guy on a bike.

Today Stephanie and the notary signed the papers for the sale of the house. A young couple with 3 kids under three, moving from a 2 bedroom apartment to a 6 bedroom house. They were in shock, but very happy. I think Father-in-law would have like them. And we find ourselves with the first weekend to only clean up one yard. Already feels strange. But no complaining.

Anyone out there use Skype? What do you think?