Sunday, July 16, 2017

The Informalization of Swiss Ways

Many years ago during the first year I lived in Switzerland, Esther and I took a four-day bus trip to Holland with a group of mostly farmers from the Emmental Valley. We addressed each other as Mr. so-and-so, and Mrs. so-and-so, and used the formal “you” conjugation of the verb.  On the final evening of our tour, we stopped for dinner in Rüdesheim, a wine-growing region along the Rhine River in Germany. The restaurant was proud to show off its regional wines and it flowed freely among our fellow passengers. After about the third round of toasts, people started giving each other their first names. From now on we could use the informal “Du” to address each other. A little wine was all it took to break down the social barriers. We were now on a first-name basis.

I always thought it was a bit ironic, since I never met any of our fellow passengers again to exercise this newfound intimacy. Meanwhile, others I met on almost a daily basis were still held at arm’s length with formal address. Usually you have to wait until the person in the higher social position invites you to use the informal you.

This year we have experienced a newfound freedom to do away with this awkward (in my US American point of view) social custom. We have visited eight different churches so far, and attended numerous meetings and seminars in different localities where we have met hundreds of people. In the vast majority of cases upon introducing ourselves, the Swiss person would immediately give their first name, inviting us to use the informal “you” form with them. I find this an interesting example of the “informalization” of Swiss ways.

Another area of change has been in the normal greeting given when passing someone on the street or on a hike. In the past, you never walked past someone without giving a greeting: “Good morning,” “Greetings to you,” or “Good evening” depending on the time of the day. Arriving here this time, I began to greet people the way I had in the past. Most people responded accordingly, but many seemed surprised by the greeting, like they weren’t expecting it. Usually I initiated the greeting, so I experimented by waiting for the other person to give the greeting first. More often than not, I didn’t get a greeting. Perhaps there are regional differences, but I found this to be another interesting example in the “informalization” of Swiss ways.

Finally we come to the kiss. It used to be customary for you to greet friends or relatives with a kiss on the cheek when meeting them: men to women, women to women, but not men to men. Actually, it was three kisses, starting on the left side, moving to the right side, and then returning to the left side again. Or is it the other way around? Although the kissing ritual is still done, especially among older people, I have discovered that it is not necessarily expected anymore. It is often replaced with a hug; even among men. I find this to be another example of the “informalization” of Swiss culture.

I am sure there are many factors involved in the informalization of Swiss ways. Perhaps it is the ubiquitous global youth culture, spread by music, movies and social media. Perhaps it is simply the natural evolving of a culture. However, not all Swiss ways changing, as I observed in a former blog post, “Bumbling through Swiss Social Conventions.”

Whatever the cause of what changes and what does not, I find it interesting to observe over the course of the 37 years that I’ve lived and traveled in Switzerland.

Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Gelassenheit: Parsing of a Spiritual Journey

My brother-in-law recently showed some footage of a family gathering in Switzerland many years ago. In the video, I was on a reclining lawn chair, trying to be oblivious to what was going on around me. My two kids were having the time of their life cavorting with their Swiss cousins. Unfortunately, the grimace on my face revealed that I wasn’t exactly having the same delight as my children.

I was in my early forties when this was filmed. I was working on construction during my summer off from teaching in order to pay for our trip to visit relatives in Switzerland. The weather was hot, and the work was demanding, both physically and with a language that was not my native tongue. Even though the job that awaited me back at home was better than pounding nails and driving screws, I was getting increasingly restless with it. My life seemed out of control. I was in great need of “Gelassenheit.”

“Gelassenheit” is a term from the German that is often used to describe a quality of life of the Anabaptists, the radical arm of the Reformation in Europe in the 16th Century. There have been numerous attempts to translate what this term means as related to the Anabaptist life and practice.

In chapter eight of our book The Spacious Heart, I write extensively about the concept of Gelassenheit. I cite this as part of the discussion: “According to the Global Anabaptist Encyclopedia Online,” I write, “these are the multiple meanings of the word: ‘self-surrender, resignation in God’s will, yieldedness to God’s will, self-abandonment, the (passive) opening to God’s willing, including the readiness to suffer for the sake of God, also peace and calmness of mind.’”

These definitions are all wonderful descriptions of spiritual qualities that as Christians, we would do well to emulate.  However, if you look the word up in a modern English/German dictionary, you won’t find any of these definitions. The first word that normally appears is “serenity.” So perhaps for better understanding, a little parsing of the word would be helpful.

“Gelassen” is the past participle of the verb “lassen,” which means “to leave [behind]” and “to let [allow].” An interesting side note. Eastern Pennsylvania, where I grew up, was preponderantly settled by German speakers. To this day, because of the influence of the German, English speakers from this area have a hard time distinguishing between “to let” and “to leave.”

“Gelassen” can also be used as an adjective. As such it means: “unhurried, calm, easy-going.” I would add “laid-back.” This gets a little closer to the spiritual qualities of the Anabaptists listed above, especially self-abandonment. Adding the suffix “heit” to “gelassen” turns our adjective into a noun, like turning the English adjective “helpful” into the noun “helpfulness” by adding the suffix “ness.” The suffix here turns helpful into, “the state or quality of being helpful.

For the purpose of this blog, I would like to define “Gelassenheit” as “the state or quality of being easy-going or laid-back.”

Until my middle twenties, I was considered to be easy-going and carefree. In fact, I was often criticized for not taking life seriously enough. I was the book definition of “Gelassenheit”. This all changed when I was confronted with the realities of poverty and oppression that I experienced during my years as a volunteer in Central America. I became a cynical, bitter adult, suppressing my anger at not being able to do much about the situation of my friends. Becoming a father and career responsibilities added to my becoming more “uptight” than “easy-going.” These realities caused the grimace on my face in the home video mentioned earlier.

To deal with my spiritual crisis, I did years of inner work, looking for the source of my restlessness, and finding my inner God image and likeness. Numerous forms of prayer, meditation, dream work, contemplative walking, and other forms of inner work, helped me to return to what God made me to be, rather than what the outer world forced on me. In our book that I mentioned earlier, I write extensively about these processes.

Recently, my wife Esther and I were returning from another family visit. We had a wonderful time with her family, visiting, joking and just enjoying the moment. I innocently asked her if she noticed any change in my demeanor at such family reunions. “Absolutely,” she said without needing to think about it. “You are not nearly as uptight.” I’ve become more easy-going and laid back. I returned to the Gelassenheit of my youth.

The spiritual journey I was on, however, was not an overnight victory. It took years of difficult confrontation with my inner demons. People who fail to do the necessary inner work remain angry and resentful well into their old age. It doesn’t take much effort to see the grimaces on faces you pass along the way. Unfortunately, they far outnumber the faces that reflect the image and likeness of God.

Perhaps I haven’t gained all the qualities of Gelassenheit mentioned in the Global Anabaptist Encyclopedia I cited above. However, my parsing of the word, and parsing of my spiritual journey, show that I have come a remarkable way.

Solo Dei gloria 

Friday, June 2, 2017

You Are Beloved of God: Yet Again

I have used the phrase “you are beloved of God” many times in my writings. (See blog post June 29, 2013). I have also used it frequently in spirituality retreats and classes. Henri Nouwen, one of the most widely read authors on spirituality in our time, is the one who introduced me to this simple, yet profound phrase. He has a series of eight videos on the subject that are well worth watching.

In spite of how much I have used this phrase, and how much it has meant to others, I need to be reminded of this time and time again. There are many voices within me that want to distract me from this truth; voices from the past that tell me that I am not worthy of God’s love for this or that reason. Voices that tell me that I am what I do, that I am what others say about me, that I am what I possess or that I am a composite of all the experiences I’ve had. Indeed, all of these distractions form a part of whom I am, but the core truth that “I am beloved of God” needs to be foremost.

Invariably, when I teach this phrase to others, they change the phrase to “you are beloved by God” when repeating it. But there is a clear distinction between the two prepositions. Being loved by God is a good phrase to repeat. However, when we say, “you are beloved of God,” the phrase becomes much more intimate. “Of” shows possession, and means that we are in a much more intimate relationship with God. God “owns” us, if you please. Being loved “by” God is more general while being loved “of” God is more personal.

If I encounter a person who is feeling low, I tell them that, “you are beloved of God.” You can literally see their eyes shine when they hear this phrase. Then I ask them to look at themselves in the mirror and state out loud, “You are beloved of God!” For some reason, it is extremely difficult for most people to do the mirror exercise. We are so used to seeing our ego and our outward appearance when we look in the mirror, that we forget that we also have a soul that needs to be groomed. It’s a great exercise, even if we are not feeling low.

Not only is it difficult for most of us to believe that we are beloved of God, but it is often more difficult to understand that others are beloved of God as well. That is especially true for those who are different from us. Can we think of the person who offends us politically or theologically as being beloved of God? How would such an exercise change our view of the person? With all the vitriol being spewed these days on all sides of any given issue, this simple exercise could help us remember that we are all created in God’s image and likeness.

I often stroll through the streets of the cities I visit, whether at home or abroad, and look at strangers in the eye while smiling and say to them silently, “You are beloved of God.” In the vast majority of these moments I am rewarded with a larger than normal return smile. We are all in need of the reminder that we are beloved of God.

Soli Dei gloria

Thursday, May 18, 2017

Random Encounters and God Moments

The waiter came to our table to take our order. I sensed he was not a Swiss native by his accent. I thought perhaps he was Italian, since many Italians work in Switzerland, and a large number in service jobs in restaurants. When he returned with our order, I ventured to ask him where he was originally from. When he said Spain, I immediately started speaking Spanish with him. He beamed from ear to ear to hear his native language. We exchanged small talk; he lived in the apartment above the restaurant, he was here for 25 years, and so forth. Whenever he passed by our table, he had the biggest grin on his face. We connected.

We were having dinner at a restaurant by the Aare, one of Switzerland’s most famous rivers. The waitress picked up immediately that we weren’t locals. My wife Esther asked her to explain the ingredients of several dishes in Swiss German, but she heard us passing on the information to my brother and his wife in English. When she returned to take our order, my Brother ordered in Standard German, Esther and I in Swiss German, and my sister-in-law in English. She didn’t skip a beat. When she returned with the food, I complimented her on how well she could get along in all three languages, and that her English, which was not her native language, was very good. She beamed. Some chitchat ensued; she only had what she called “school book English,” and knew just enough to serve English-speaking customers. I was surprised at how good her accent was for what she claimed to know. We connected.

A waiter approached us at another café. He asked us for our order in Swiss, but soon again discovered there were some English speakers at the table. He immediately spoke fluent English to us, and said, “I’m a [US] American, but born here in Switzerland.” He had also lived several years in the USA before coming back to work in Switzerland at a resort. As he passed our table while going about his duties, we kept up a little dialog. We connected.

We connected with more than just waiters and waitresses on our recent tours of Switzerland’s natural wonders with my brother and his wife. We were eating our packed lunch in a lookout tower facing the North Face of Switzerland’s iconic Eiger Mountain. As we were finishing, a couple climbed the stairs to join us in enjoying the view. I greeted them, and could tell by their return greeting that they weren’t Swiss, so I began speaking Standard German with them. A very delightful conversation ensued. When the woman discovered that we were from the USA, she began speaking with my sister-in-law in English. We must have spent 20 minutes discovering each other’s realities. He was a retired German locomotive engineer, and had a free rail pass to travel across Europe. His wife could travel with him at half price. They usually travelled to Austria on their vacations, which was just as beautiful as Switzerland, but less expensive. We connected.
Esther and I in the lookout tower. 

On the way down the mountainside on a train that day, I was curious about the oriental couple sitting beside me. There were busloads of oriental people wherever we travelled in Switzerland. Some look like Koreas, others looked Chinese, but I was quite curious where they were from. After a few minutes in silence, I asked them if they spoke German or English. They smiled that I had wanted a conversation with them, and answered in very broken English. Imagine my surprise when they said they were from Macau.  “The Las Vegas of China,” the man said with a big grin. “We are as expensive as Switzerland,” he proudly continued. We tried to proceed with the conversation, but it was torturous. Yet he really wanted an exchange, so I plodded on. Patience, deep listening, all earmarks of a good communicator, were stretched to the breaking point. However, seeing their huge grins and exchanging a very nice, “have a nice trip” at the end of the train ride, made all the efforts worthwhile. We connected.

These interesting random encounters happened to me over the past several days. I have travelled many times in many areas, especially Central Europe and Latin America. I have been thrown together with many people from most parts of the world. There was a time, however, that I didn’t take so well to chance encounters. In fact, I did whatever I could to avoid them. Reluctance to engage in small talk and perhaps a dose of arrogance kept me from doing it. Perhaps the arrogance has mellowed with age, along with my reluctance to engage in small talk. Connections across cultures and languages can become God moments when we realize that our souls are all similarly stamped with God’s image and likeness.

Many years ago, when I was in my arrogant stage, I was travelling with a colleague and a group of students to Spain. My colleague and I went out to experience some tapas at a local café in Madrid. While we were enjoying the tasty munchies, a crew from Swiss Air walked into the café. My colleague, who was as interested in Switzerland as in Spain, insisted that I go up to talk to them. He knew I could speak (some) Swiss German, and he wanted to know what they were up to. At that time there was no way in Hades that I wanted to do that. But he insisted, and persisted, so I finally gave in. When we first approached them, they looked at us as if we had come from Mars. When they discovered that I was a [US] American who could speak Swiss, they were overwhelmingly welcoming! As it turned out, they were a pilot, a co-pilot and two stewardesses on layover for a trip the next day to the USA. We exchanged wonderful conversations about their lives as cross-cultural flyers and my life as a cross-cultural leader. We connected. It was a God moment.

I could tell endless stories of random encounters over the years, many which I initiated, and most of which I did not. I wonder how often I’ve missed, during my years as an arrogant world traveler, the many opportunities I had to witness God’s good creation in human form in myriads of manifestations. Random encounters often lead to God moments and bridge gaps of understanding that too often are forced on us by the tribal narrow-mindedness of our cultural, religious or political bubbles. I challenge you, and myself to continue to be open to experiencing God and connections to random encounters.

Thursday, May 4, 2017

Sundays in Switzerland

“Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy” (Ex. 20:8 NRSV). Most of us give lip service to a Sabbath on Sunday, and consider it a “day of rest.” Indeed, the word Sabbath comes from the Hebrew, šabbāṯ, with the root, šāḇaṯ ‘to rest.’ However, If I were to make a critical observation between US American Sundays and Sundays in Switzerland, I would have to say that the Swiss follow this understanding much more seriously than we do, even if fewer and fewer attend church on that day.

Nearly every morning quite early, I take a stroll around my town, and the streets are already bustling with people and cars going to work, or to other duties, such as walking their dog or scurrying around to get bread. On those Sunday mornings when I manage to take my stroll, the streets are absolutely dead with neither flesh nor machine to be seen.

One of the necessities of life in Switzerland is bread. In order to provide for this necessity, the bakeries take turns being open on Sunday morning. This is for those who weren’t diligent enough to buy their bread the day before. One Sunday morning, being one of those non-diligent souls, I walked all around town to find the designated bakery. To my chagrin, the opening time was 8:00 am instead of the normal 6:00 am. Our normal 7:00 am breakfast had to be delayed until I could bring home the bread.

Everything else is closed. Well, almost everything. There are two convenience stores in our town that are open. One by the train station, and the other at a gas station. But all main stores and shopping centers are closed. Even though the Swiss love to shop as much as US Americans, on Sundays they have to stay at home—there is just nowhere to shop. Furthermore, trucks are not allowed on most highways, lawns are not to be mowed, and laundry in apartment complexes should not be done.

Holidays are called Sundays in Switzerland. Unlike the USA, all their holidays, except for their Independence Day on August 1, are religious holidays. In the USA all of our holidays, except for Christmas, are secular holidays, most of them celebrating events related to the nation state. Perhaps it has something to do with the separation of church and state. In any case, when there is a holiday in Switzerland, everything closes down just like on Sunday. That’s why they call a holiday Sunday. Or at least that’s what I suppose. We just passed through the Easter season. Good Friday was a complete shutdown. Easter Monday was nearly a complete shutdown. Finding bread was a nightmare, as well as any other necessity. In the USA, we are so used to popping into a store to get what we (think) need any day of the week, any hour of the day.

Reformed Church in Riggisberg,
 my wife's home church.
So what does a typical Sunday consist of, if one can’t go shopping or mow the lawn? At about 9:15 am, the church bells start ringing. It is to announce the church service at the official church of Canton Bern, the Reformed Church. Every village in Canton Bern has a Reformed Church, and one can hear bells echoing through the valleys all over Switzerland at this time. It is really a beautiful sound, except for those who want to sleep in till 10 am. Now, as stated earlier, too many Swiss do not attend church. But for those who do, the bells let them know when to arrive.

We decided to attend various churches in order to get a feel for the religious culture here. First, we attended the Reformed Church in our town. I could count on my hands how many people attended on that Sunday morning. That is typical attendance, I am told, and that is replicated all over Switzerland in the Reformed Church, unless there is a special event.

We also attended four Mennonite churches, two Methodist churches and one Assemblies of God church. Except for one of the Mennonite churches and the Assemblies of God church, the attendance wasn’t very overwhelming at any of these venues, either. It has also been my experience when attending a church regularly, that the people one sees on any given Sunday may be quite different from the people seen on other Sundays. The expectation to be in church every Sunday is not great, even in those churches that are well attended.  

Reformed Church in Aarberg, where we live.
Church fellowship meals on a Sunday usually draw a better crowd. One Mennonite church schedules them the first Sunday of every month. I’ve had the privilege of attending three of these in different congregations. They are often catered instead of being carry-in potlucks. At these functions back in the USA, I am too often guilty of “eat and run.” Can’t get away with that in Switzerland. Each course is served with deliberation and not hurriedly eaten. People stay around and talk with each other. It is truly a “fellowship meal.” It is usually 3 pm till people start leaving. This is after a 10 am church service—committing a minimum of five hours for such an event is necessary.

This kind of time commitment is common when you are invited to a meal, or for coffee as well, often on a Sunday. If it’s the Sunday noon meal, count on two hours to eat, then at least a half-hour walk after the meal, followed by coffee and dessert.

But what about the Swiss who don’t attend church on Sunday? If they can’t shop or mow their lawn, what do they do? They rest. If the weather is nice, they go hiking or take a stroll after lunch. They gather for an afternoon coffee or tea at neighbors’ homes or at a restaurant, preferably outdoors. On any given Sunday, if you walk around town, you will see family gatherings or family/friend gatherings on the lawn or patio or porch, whatever is available for community discourse. Many ride bikes, motorcycles or horses.

It took me a while to get used to everything being closed on Sunday. With stores not being open, employees get more time off, allowing more time for relationships. Many restaurants that are open on Sundays, take two other days off during the week (called “Ruhetag,” or rest day) so that the owners and their employees have a five-day work week. This is also true of many family-owned stores.

The concept of Sabbath in the USA has changed considerably since I was young. Growing up in the 50s, Sunday “blue laws” kept nearly everything closed. The idea was to allow people time to do some sort of religious activity; maybe even rest. My dad wouldn’t even but gas on a Sunday, because at that time it would make someone work on the Sabbath. Now Sundays are no different from other days. In fact, with all the extra-curricular activities children are involved in, Sundays are sometimes even more hectic than other days. The concept of rest has changed to include anything that you can’t do during the work week.

Even though the percentage of Swiss who attend church on Sunday is lower than in the USA, they seem to understand much better what it means to have a day “of rest.” Relaxing around a table, developing relationships, doing activities that decrease stress rather than build it, makes their Sundays, and holidays, truly a Sabbath.