It was cold. Though the beginning rays of summer light warmed our skin, there was a distinct hollowness that swept over me as I stepped into that beautiful, sixteenth century cathedral. The walls of stone and stained glass windows seemed to magnify the emptiness of the surprisingly dark interior. This place was once a place of worship. Now, in the heart of the altstadt (Old Town) of Tübingen, it serves as a museum and historic marker for tourists to visit on their holiday.
While my experience of German culture is limited, and I am well aware of a distinct warmth that comes from this deep and rich culture, my brief experience confirmed my studies and confirmed my call. The absence of God and enmity toward the Church was not relegated to a small section of Germany, but is thorough in its influence.This place became a symbol for me, as it represents a reality that permeates Western Europe. The Christianity that was once a vibrant part of life and culture in Germany, France, England, and Spain is now relegated to the archaic or historical, irrelevant and even undesirable. I cannot quite describe what my intuition revealed as I interacted with students and residents during my brief visit to Germany in May, but something about it made the Northwest US look like the Bible Belt.
This week I began reading some writings of Mother Teresa of Calcutta. She is becoming a very dear friend and mentor, with whom I foresee having a dramatic influence on my developing spirituality. In her mid-thirties, Mother Teresa received a call from Christ to serve the poorest of the poor in Calcutta, and so she did so by founding an order called the Missionaries of Charity. One author commented, “The poor and those who suffer most were the particular object of her love. She knew that only love, a love that has God as its origin and end, would give meaning and happiness to their lives.”
And as I read these words, I heard my own call. My heart is drawn to the poor and suffering, but not as a justice worker as much as a pastor. My heart is drawn to love these friends, where they are at, with a love that goes and gives itself. Because it is my firm belief that no change of circumstances will bring healing to the ache of the soul until that soul has tasted of the life-giving, meaning-saturating Love of God. To communicate this love, in as many ways as possible, is tied up in my forming identity as a pastor.
While there is part of me that is drawn to the idea of giving up all that I have and moving into the slums, that is not the call I have received. However, as I read Teresa’s words, I am struck by a different outworking of her beautiful ideas, for there is more to poverty than physical assets. My experience of that dark and lovely church in Southwest Germany reminded me that it is entirely possible to have a poverty that is linked far more with spiritual substance, with meaning and life, than with societal injustices and bodily ailment. There is a darkness to western Europe that echoes the absence of the Love of God.
Mother Teresa tells that when she was called by Christ to begin her work, she heard Him in a vision ask her to “Come be my light.”
I cannot help but hear those words spoken to me as well.
with Love,
Tony