The Sign From God ;-)

"We hear what we are trained to hear"

(As told in New York City) "Listen do you hear the cricket? With incredulity the response came. How can you hear a cricket with the noise from this mass of people surrounding us? He dropped a quarter on the sidewalk , and immediately a swarm of passersby stopped and looked." We hear what we are trained to hear.

So the 'sign from God'...it was right out my door lit up and to its left was the chapel. Every time I opened the door there it was...Luister...it means "listen". I had no clue that silence was the nucleus around which the rest of the community rules of the Benedictines lived in order that they might hear the still small voice of God. I had no idea where I was at spiritually, though I thought I knew. I was wrong, the bus driver was wrong...something did stop at the Abby...frivolous, thougthless, noisey, sin-filled talk. I had just entered an alternate universe, a parallel reality to texting, cell phones, loud music, TV, DVDs, e-mails, youtube, car alarms, barking dogs, boisterous drunks, coarse jesting, jabber, campaigners etc. I had just entered 48 hours of silence where the only words spoken were the words of psalms and hymns chanted in Latin and Dutch in antiphony. A prayer was breathed, a short Scripture recited and then silence. Everytime I opened my door to attend one of the orders of the day...there it was all lit up in my face..."Listen." More as I - a many worded Jerome - reflect and decompress later...pax et bonum...jerome

The Servant's Entrance

There weren't many people out on the farmlands in the pouring rain but I did meet a farmer who figured out my strange Dutch enough to reply in some kind of east Flanders' dialect and sent me on a 3 Km. walk. After having some doubts circumambulating (cool word uhh), the Abby wall with occasional old WWII machine gun turrets, I found an entrance designated "servant's entrance." So I tucked my hair up under my hat and went in to ask why, only to meet Moses on they way. He spoke only a few words which will turn out to be about most that I was about to hear in private for the next 48 hours. Moses pointed down a path between, you almost guest it, a wall of bricks (not water). So, the short epoch beyond my box of universe had begun with me having a strange urgent desire to go back to Egypt. It was to late, I had gone to far and found my self being led up to my room without a word being said and then oi vay...a sign from God.

The Way In

The bus driver said I needed to get out at the cross point in the middle of somewhere because nothing stops where I was going. He was really wrong. I got out in a place where I have never been before. Sometimes it is hard to know where you are going when you really don't know where you are. For me I thought I pretty much knew where I was but I was soon to find out I was as wrong as the bus driver.

Black and White in the Gray World of Belgium

Pastor Seth Now from Then

"In the recent past white faces came with black Bibles bearing the Good News. Now black faces come with white Bibles doing the same" (Galatians 3:28). These were the words that began our international church service spoken by a visiting Arab pastor. As I looked around and I listened to English, the borrowed lingua franca, I quickly saw the point of his morning message. In the Kingdom of God loneliness is only for the making because brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers surround us everywhere (Matthew 12:48-50). This day Morrocans, Syrians, Egyptians, Iraqs, and Algerians lead worship. In front of me were Nigerians and Indonesians. To my right were Chinese and to my left Dutch and Germans. Well yes, I looked for another American amidst the 150 or more people and found two others. We sang of 'Harayana Yessu'(Jesus released me-Arabic), 'tis so sweet to trust in Jesus', heard testimonies of where Jesus met devote Muslims feeling so distant from God yet seeking God's closeness, soon found a breaking in of his mercy and assuring love. Tears did stream over my cheeks as this once small church now much larger continued to exude the glimpse of 'living symbol for the boundariless praise disclosed in Revelation 5:9. How I long for that day...pax et bonum...jerome

Bitter Sweet

This week I decided to up the ante on semi sweet dark chocolate switching from 72% Leonidas to 85% Godiva. The experience was bitter sweet and much like ethics and theology in the land. I was shocked to find that non terminal folks can get euthanized in Belgium, if they find life giving a mental suffering that they choose no longer to bear.

It also seems that health care professions like mine , pharmacy, have few if any Christians populating the upcoming graduates. Most striking theology seems to be groping for a God that's understandable by the people.

Sweet are the churches both Roman Catholic and Evangelical that though small in number seem to be inhabited by those seeking God. Surprising are the philosophers who now grapple with the God of mystery and yet the God who 'saturates' His creation with love.

It seems that much remains a paradox of bitter sweet in a land full of surprises. By the way 72 % dark Leonidas is still the king according to my palate.

Looking through My Window

Yesterday was a long awaited answer to prayer and an unexpected eye-opener from God. I have waited 12 years for the re-acquaintance with a beloved brother in Christ. The last time we said good-bye his pastorate vanished and along with his regular job. For me, I lost my visa rights to be in the country and had to leave immediately. It was a painful parting. His wife knew I was in town and arranged a surprise meeting. As I stood in his presence donned in my pancake-frenchie hat, he looked at me with a bewildered face. With no beard, apparently my signature in this country as told to me by many, I appeared as a stranger unrecognizable. The I spoke familiar words: "I am still a Jesus Freak whose freak are you?" He immediatley recognized the voice and the words and with tears streaming down his cheeks crushed me with his large Ukranian coal miners hug. On my long bus trip back I was struck by another Johanine Blue Bolt. John 10:4 "When he puts forth all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice." It struck me that when Jesus reappears, we may not recognize Him just like the women at the tomb did not recognize His transformed state, but we will know His voice, if we have been attentive in hearing it throughout our life. Just like the voice of a friend from long ago. A view through my window of life yesterday. Pax et bonum...jerome