The Narnia Effect: Coming Home After Germany
"Now, give me this mountain!" Those were the words that put me to shame last Friday morning. They come from scripture - the book of Joshua - when Caleb was finally ready to stake a claim to the land that had long been promised to him. After spending ten glorious days in Germany, the mountain of my regular life looked much larger than it had seemed before I left. I did not feel at all ready to conquer it. I wanted to say, "Now, take this mountain from me!" I wanted to lock myself in the house until I could figure out a way to get back to Germany (with my children) and never, ever come back. I was completely lacking in the will to get dressed, walk out the door and be all of the things that I am expected to be. I just wanted to be a wanderer who could roam across the earth, embrace the beauty and seek to understand the story.
That is a weak attempt to explain what going to Germany and coming back was like for me. If you have never read The Chronicles of Narnia or watched the movies, you will have a hard time understanding this but I had moments when the beauty of the ancient streets, centuries old churches, castles and rolling countryside made me feel as if I was in Narnia. It was magical and I did not really want to leave that magic for any reason except to pull someone else into it. I really did not want to come home at all....not even a little bit.
It took the precise, laser-like understanding of an insightful professor, a doozy of a session with my life coach, the patient words and prayers of one of my mentors from afar and a down to earth, no-nonsense, get it all out on the table phone call with a fiery friend in ministry before I felt straightened out enough to be ready to serve again by Sunday. And, to be honest, I'm still working on it but ... you know... I've been changed. It's not something that's easy to put your finger on. I just know that my perspective has been altered and I think that's okay. I think it's good. It's just that it's taking some time to get the whole thing sorted out.
You cannot walk ancient paths with some understanding and then go back to being "normal" again. At least, I can't do it. My soul cannot do it. I have developed better understanding for both my general insignificance - my tiny speck of a life in history - and also my potential significance in time. It's weird. The story is now so much more broad and deep and nuanced. I kept saying that it was like America is the toddler of the world and yet we think we are so developed and have so much to offer. We are so very deceived. Our roots have barely penetrated the earth and we think we have wisdom. We think we have the best fruit to offer. We are kidding ourselves. Being familiar with the history of my denomination is nothing. It is only 100 years - a twig of a branch of the tree. I'm not saying that it's insignificant. It is completely significant but it is also currently just a flash in the pan to the overarching story of Christianity. I knew that before but now I understand it on a much deeper level.
It's like being a little fish who is comfortable with her familiar, spacious pond but then she finds the place she had always heard of. It is the place where the pond feeds into a lake that drains into a river that empties into the ocean. So she rides that current all the way out to the brink of the ocean. But, then she returns back to the pond she has always known. The trouble is that she knows now that it is only her choices that can keep her in the little pond. At any moment, she could choose to be swept away into an unfamiliar current and maybe she wants to. Yet, she realizes that being swept away into new places would take her away from familiar places, faces and ways of life that cannot be swept away with her - and she worries that they may need her to stay.
On Friday morning, I sat looking at fried chicken fingers and french fries, listening to the same local people talk about the same local things. How do you return graciously to chicken fingers at Bojangles in Dunn when the Thursday before, you had climbed the bell tower of a church that had undergone it's first phase of construction in the 700's and then descended into the heart of Prague to taste Trdelnik for the first time before crossing the most beautiful bridge you had ever seen in your life to stand before a world famous gigantic medieval astronomical clock?
How do you enjoy the sights and sounds of a rural fast-food restaurant when the Friday before, you were roaming the streets of Wittenberg, studying Lucas Cranach's art in Phillip Melanchthon's home and then ducking into Tante Emma's Cafe-Haus for soup and cappuccino with lovely new friends before surveying the private quarters of the converted monastery that was home to Martin Luther and Katherine Von Bora? How do you do that with grace? How do you remember who you are supposed to be?
How do you go back to the machine and the pressure of "Sunday's always coming!" after you have toured the grounds of Wartburg castle and breathed in the beauty and serenity of a place of seclusion and protection? How do you go back to trying to wear five or six different hats in one day after you have sensed how much more productive, calming and natural it may be to just wear one for a while?
How do you go back to stilling yourself to serve, serve, serve after having ten days of being given freedom to run headlong into new adventures and soak up volumes of new information almost every waking hour of the day? How do you satisfy yourself with the challenges of the familiar after you have caught a glimpse of so many different options and other ways to see? How do you do it with grace, love, compassion and passion?
How do you even tolerate the way that America provides public restrooms or public anything after you have seen it handled SO much better elsewhere? That deserves a post of it's own. I can't even get started.
Sorting out all of this was a complicated thing. It IS a complicated thing but it is a good thing. So, I am willing to let it work itself out in me. Things may come out looking a little different than they did before but that's okay. It's needed.
When we visited the Luther House, our tour guide made sure that we paid attention to a statue of Katherine Von Bora that stood just outside of their home. But, as we see her moving through a doorframe, we understand that this piece of art does not just represent what a busy woman she was. It is not just an image of her masterfully handling all the daily tasks that were before her or the challenges of being married to Martin Luther. It was not even just about the commitment to a life of reform that she had made. It was not about being an extremely unconventional woman for her times. It was all of that and more. Her life was lived out within the threshold of before and after but she understood that.
I felt compelled to take her hand. So, I did. I do not know everything about where life can take me but I want to go.
A song for this blog:
This Cup - Sara Groves
That is a weak attempt to explain what going to Germany and coming back was like for me. If you have never read The Chronicles of Narnia or watched the movies, you will have a hard time understanding this but I had moments when the beauty of the ancient streets, centuries old churches, castles and rolling countryside made me feel as if I was in Narnia. It was magical and I did not really want to leave that magic for any reason except to pull someone else into it. I really did not want to come home at all....not even a little bit.
It took the precise, laser-like understanding of an insightful professor, a doozy of a session with my life coach, the patient words and prayers of one of my mentors from afar and a down to earth, no-nonsense, get it all out on the table phone call with a fiery friend in ministry before I felt straightened out enough to be ready to serve again by Sunday. And, to be honest, I'm still working on it but ... you know... I've been changed. It's not something that's easy to put your finger on. I just know that my perspective has been altered and I think that's okay. I think it's good. It's just that it's taking some time to get the whole thing sorted out.
You cannot walk ancient paths with some understanding and then go back to being "normal" again. At least, I can't do it. My soul cannot do it. I have developed better understanding for both my general insignificance - my tiny speck of a life in history - and also my potential significance in time. It's weird. The story is now so much more broad and deep and nuanced. I kept saying that it was like America is the toddler of the world and yet we think we are so developed and have so much to offer. We are so very deceived. Our roots have barely penetrated the earth and we think we have wisdom. We think we have the best fruit to offer. We are kidding ourselves. Being familiar with the history of my denomination is nothing. It is only 100 years - a twig of a branch of the tree. I'm not saying that it's insignificant. It is completely significant but it is also currently just a flash in the pan to the overarching story of Christianity. I knew that before but now I understand it on a much deeper level.
It's like being a little fish who is comfortable with her familiar, spacious pond but then she finds the place she had always heard of. It is the place where the pond feeds into a lake that drains into a river that empties into the ocean. So she rides that current all the way out to the brink of the ocean. But, then she returns back to the pond she has always known. The trouble is that she knows now that it is only her choices that can keep her in the little pond. At any moment, she could choose to be swept away into an unfamiliar current and maybe she wants to. Yet, she realizes that being swept away into new places would take her away from familiar places, faces and ways of life that cannot be swept away with her - and she worries that they may need her to stay.
On Friday morning, I sat looking at fried chicken fingers and french fries, listening to the same local people talk about the same local things. How do you return graciously to chicken fingers at Bojangles in Dunn when the Thursday before, you had climbed the bell tower of a church that had undergone it's first phase of construction in the 700's and then descended into the heart of Prague to taste Trdelnik for the first time before crossing the most beautiful bridge you had ever seen in your life to stand before a world famous gigantic medieval astronomical clock?
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| Chicken Fingers & Fries... |
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| A typical afternoon in Dunn |
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| St. Vitus Cathedral in Prague |
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| Inside St. Vitus |
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| Trdelnik - It's kind of like a thin spiral donut filled with real cream and you can add chocolate, strawberries, ice-cream, etc.... Krispy Kreme cannot hold a candle to it. |
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| The beautiful bridge in Prague. It is lined with statues of saints of the church. There are beautiful, detailed statues everywhere in Prague. I felt worried that cars would bang into them or that they should be protected in some way to make sure that the history is not lost but all of this beauty and culture and art is just normal for Prague. |
How do you enjoy the sights and sounds of a rural fast-food restaurant when the Friday before, you were roaming the streets of Wittenberg, studying Lucas Cranach's art in Phillip Melanchthon's home and then ducking into Tante Emma's Cafe-Haus for soup and cappuccino with lovely new friends before surveying the private quarters of the converted monastery that was home to Martin Luther and Katherine Von Bora? How do you do that with grace? How do you remember who you are supposed to be?
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| Street in Wittenberg |
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| A picture of the inside of Tante Emma's Cafe-haus. We sat at the table to the right. |
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| The lecture hall where up to 300 students stood for hours each morning to hear Luther or other teachers lecture. |
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| The corner of the main gathering room where family and guests gathered inside of the Luther home. |
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| The converted monastery that became the Luther Home. They were constantly entertaining guests and giving refuge to men and women who were transitioning from monastic life to protestant life. They also ran several businesses from the property to help sustain the needs of the home. |
How do you go back to the machine and the pressure of "Sunday's always coming!" after you have toured the grounds of Wartburg castle and breathed in the beauty and serenity of a place of seclusion and protection? How do you go back to trying to wear five or six different hats in one day after you have sensed how much more productive, calming and natural it may be to just wear one for a while?
How do you go back to stilling yourself to serve, serve, serve after having ten days of being given freedom to run headlong into new adventures and soak up volumes of new information almost every waking hour of the day? How do you satisfy yourself with the challenges of the familiar after you have caught a glimpse of so many different options and other ways to see? How do you do it with grace, love, compassion and passion?
How do you even tolerate the way that America provides public restrooms or public anything after you have seen it handled SO much better elsewhere? That deserves a post of it's own. I can't even get started.
Sorting out all of this was a complicated thing. It IS a complicated thing but it is a good thing. So, I am willing to let it work itself out in me. Things may come out looking a little different than they did before but that's okay. It's needed.
When we visited the Luther House, our tour guide made sure that we paid attention to a statue of Katherine Von Bora that stood just outside of their home. But, as we see her moving through a doorframe, we understand that this piece of art does not just represent what a busy woman she was. It is not just an image of her masterfully handling all the daily tasks that were before her or the challenges of being married to Martin Luther. It was not even just about the commitment to a life of reform that she had made. It was not about being an extremely unconventional woman for her times. It was all of that and more. Her life was lived out within the threshold of before and after but she understood that.
I felt compelled to take her hand. So, I did. I do not know everything about where life can take me but I want to go.
A song for this blog:
This Cup - Sara Groves
