for whom the bells toll
I am sitting in Frau Stolz dining room on a Sunday morning and the bells begin to peal. It’s 9:00 am, and the bells are ringing calling the masses, the people of Germany to worship. Few come.
Oh they have beautiful churches, and paid staffs (by the State) and a presence in each and every town in Germany. But the churches are largely empty. Few are interested in worship. Few seek God. Few search for meaning beyond the moment. Most are agnostics at best, atheists at worst. An incredibly beautiful land at the surface, spiritually bankrupt underneath.
Contrast that to late last night. Brenda was tired and went to sleep early. I was wide awake and showed no signs of sleep. So about 10:45 pm I head out the door to explore small sleepy German town nightlife on a Saturday evening.
It was a gloriously beautiful night . . . crisp and cool with a full moon reflecting so brightly that you could see shadows. The air was amazingly clean and bracing. At initial glance, everyone is tucked into their little beds. There are no sounds in the village. I can hear no cars, see no walkers nor smell any grills or cooking. I decide to prowl.
As I began to walk the streets, I realized that there was nightlife, and that it was in the pubs. What do Germans do in sleepy little towns . . . they go to pubs. In the name of research, so did I. I went into the Sonne and sat down at the very last free table in the entire place. It was FULL of people and it was rocking . . . loud laughter, hysterical giggles, shouts across the room and scurrying barmaids . . . and smoky - everyone smokes here.
I ordered a beverage and took notes for about an hour. The room was filled with about 60% men and 40% women. They were in social groups - no one sat alone. A few people were eating, but most were not. Everyone was intently involved in social discourse, laughing and talking passionately about something (what I know not, since I speak about 25 German words total).
They seemed fulfilled and content. They appeared to have abundant life. They were clearly having fun, and were enjoying this moment in their lives. They easily ignored the foreigner sitting alone at a corner table watching them all.
I cannot draw any significant conclusions about the meaning of life in this pub on a Saturday evening. I can only contrast it with the somber, quiet, largely empty churches the next morning. But I do know this, Christians should have been here in the pub, rubbing shoulders with the masses - the mainstream, being salt and light in such places. For the most part around the world, we hide from such places . . . places where we are most desperately needed, to frame life in these lively places as a spiritual journey, a walk toward (or away from) God. We should be in these places gently showing people the God of all creation. ‘Cause none of them are going to church right now.
Oh they have beautiful churches, and paid staffs (by the State) and a presence in each and every town in Germany. But the churches are largely empty. Few are interested in worship. Few seek God. Few search for meaning beyond the moment. Most are agnostics at best, atheists at worst. An incredibly beautiful land at the surface, spiritually bankrupt underneath.
Contrast that to late last night. Brenda was tired and went to sleep early. I was wide awake and showed no signs of sleep. So about 10:45 pm I head out the door to explore small sleepy German town nightlife on a Saturday evening.
It was a gloriously beautiful night . . . crisp and cool with a full moon reflecting so brightly that you could see shadows. The air was amazingly clean and bracing. At initial glance, everyone is tucked into their little beds. There are no sounds in the village. I can hear no cars, see no walkers nor smell any grills or cooking. I decide to prowl.
As I began to walk the streets, I realized that there was nightlife, and that it was in the pubs. What do Germans do in sleepy little towns . . . they go to pubs. In the name of research, so did I. I went into the Sonne and sat down at the very last free table in the entire place. It was FULL of people and it was rocking . . . loud laughter, hysterical giggles, shouts across the room and scurrying barmaids . . . and smoky - everyone smokes here.
I ordered a beverage and took notes for about an hour. The room was filled with about 60% men and 40% women. They were in social groups - no one sat alone. A few people were eating, but most were not. Everyone was intently involved in social discourse, laughing and talking passionately about something (what I know not, since I speak about 25 German words total).
They seemed fulfilled and content. They appeared to have abundant life. They were clearly having fun, and were enjoying this moment in their lives. They easily ignored the foreigner sitting alone at a corner table watching them all.
I cannot draw any significant conclusions about the meaning of life in this pub on a Saturday evening. I can only contrast it with the somber, quiet, largely empty churches the next morning. But I do know this, Christians should have been here in the pub, rubbing shoulders with the masses - the mainstream, being salt and light in such places. For the most part around the world, we hide from such places . . . places where we are most desperately needed, to frame life in these lively places as a spiritual journey, a walk toward (or away from) God. We should be in these places gently showing people the God of all creation. ‘Cause none of them are going to church right now.