I'm Ba-ack!

...but from where?! That is the question. Since last I wrote my whereabouts for the blog I've been to Hungary, Austria, Chicago, France, AND...drum roll please--camp!!! That's right folks, Jennifer went to camp completely in French. I liken it to my Theology of Culture or Christian Thought classes in French. So the work and thoughts were not new and were on the more foundational side but the week was spent entirely in French. I spoke English only twice for an extended period of time. From upon waking until sleeping, French French French French French. Let me say this--my butt has officially been kicked in another language. I think an 11th commandment should be added (especially for Americans)--"Thou shalt learn a second language from birth." How helpful it would have been but alas...


I sat through teaching, participated in Bible studies, tried to follow casual meal conversations, and laughed very little while at camp near Grenoble with Groupe Biblique Universitaire, a French university ministry similar to Intervarsity in its intense focus on Bible study. Wow, so, that was fun in another language. Most days, okay all of the days, I sincerely prayed "Lord, give me strength," to simply be there, to participate, to listen well, to hear the voices and hearts of young adults in another tongue, to be faithful, to be patient, to continue caring, to get out of bed, to engage in conversation, to not completely emotionally and mentally melt down, to speak French, to not scream, to pray fervently at all times without ceasing. "Oh mon Dieu, donne moi la force." Each day, every day--actually, it's becoming the theme. Here's an example of how intense the week was. I chose to skip the final night's party. This from the girl (woman?) who never misses a party, who usually hits the dance floor first, who is always looking for a reason to have a party, who enjoys a party. I didn't go. I cleaned our living quarters instead, with the company of my battery-waning ipod. Hip-hip-hoo...pwa. If you're wondering why I didn't go, here's the short answer. I wasn't going to get any of the humor and at about 5pm that day, my brain had completely shut down and while I had grown in leaps and bounds in what I could comprehend, all of the sudden the wall slammed into my forehead and really, it was all I could do to not fling expletives at it. Pretty sure the French know English expletives. Thus, no party for Jennifer.

Now, I'll try to post more on the content of the camp--because it really was good and beyond language, learning about French Christian students was fascinating. But, tonight, I just want to write in English and go "blah." This is Jennifer the human writing and speaking, sans a brain.

But before I go, I have to add something non-camp related. Two things actually. I mentioned above I went to Chicago in this last month. Here's why--my best friend and soul sister married and I got to stand next to her through it all. Besides her husband, I'm pretty sure I was one of the most blessed people there. I even cried, and I don't cry at weddings. Held hers and my flowers and still managed to not let the mascara run by wrapping a Kleenex between them. It was truly a beautiful God-honoring, Christ-proclaiming, you two are great kind of wedding ceremony. Thanks, Rachel and Casey, for being who you are to one another and for expressing your love for one another so outwardly as well to all around you.


Second thing, another weepy moment. After about 9am on Sunday in Chicago, I ran on basically empty with three full days to go, so full that I barely made my flight, as in, they were boarding when I got there. :) But during a barbecue with Chicago friends I thanked God for the dark night sky because I nearly lost it with tears, while laughing. Now, I am given to laughing to the point of tears; but while with the Chi-town gang that wasn't it. It was just so SWEET to laugh with people and I had not done that with kindred spirits physically present for some time. I love to laugh--I snort, I cry, I become completely uncontrollable. I mean, I really like to laugh--so not having cultural connections or language connections as of late has been hard and wow, well, I was blessed to the point of tears for the sharing of laughter. So, a shout out to the Chi-town gang, thanks for the laughters and cause of tears.

St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre

Why today is there such hostility and fear of Christianity and Protestantism in France? A look back in history helps us understand--

On August 24, 1572, a systematic massacre of Huguenots (French Calvinists) was initiated in the city of Paris then grew throughout the country, reaching beyond city limits into all of France. Occurring within the context of the French Wars of Religion, the massacre marked the most pointed conflict throughout the time. The French Wars of Religion had religious, political, and intranational roots as their cause, for at the time church and state knew nothing of separation. The massacre as well reflected similar moorings--unwanted Protestants in the King's court, an unpopular political marriage, disapproving Pope and Catholics, and imperial opulence in the face of high economic need. Let us as well mention that the ethos of Paris at the time was significantly anti-Protestant and most Catholics wanted Huguenots out of power and Paris, even out of France.

To begin, a French princess Marguerite de Valois married Protestant prince Henry of Navarre in a mother's attempt to keep peace between factions. Rather than keeping peace, however, it stirred Catholics against having a Protestant in the king's court. After the wedding, Admiral Coligny remained in town to meet with the king and advisors along with other powerful Huguenots. Swearing protection to Coligny after an assassination attempt, King Charles IX instead was persuaded by his mother to instigate a mass killing of all Huguenots, as Parisian Catholics feared they would retaliate on Coligny's behalf. While details are blurry and lost, what we do know is that a list of influential Huguenots were to be killed at the King's command. Coligny as well was among the first murdered, and what began as an order of the king soon became a popular movement among the people--slaughter the Protestants. For several days it continued in Paris and for months in France. History records that most reports sent to the Pope were falsified, claiming that King and Queen-Mother's lives were in danger by the Huguenots. Supposedly, the massacres were carried out to protect them. Later reports would reveal the truth.

Various interpretations and reactions to St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre have been proposed over time from a wide variety of perspectives. However one wants and needs to historically consider this event (and for Catholic, French, and Protestant history, it is VERY significant!), the sad reality is that France has never recovered spiritually speaking. The misappropriation of the Christian faith in its Catholic and Protestant forms for political power and influence along with the violence such allegiances instigated have left the French suspicious of Christianity. Their desire for a secular state and staunch separation of church and state (as compared to England, for example) speaks to a sad and long history of recognizing something inherently wrong with using religion to bloody ends.

Further Information

Histoires des Protestants de France, Charles Bost
La Reine Margot (Queen Margot), film by Patrice Chereau (not suitable for children)

Faith Facts for France

Religions
Christian 67.72%
non-Religious 19.76%
Muslim 10%
Jewish 1.18%
Buddhist 1.02%
Other .30%
Baha'i .02%

Christians
Protestant 1.58%
Independent .38%
Anglican .03%
Catholic 67.71%
Orthodox .79%
Marginal .62%

Evangelical Information
Evangelical .8%
Charismatic 1.6%
Pentecostal .5%
As of 2000 AD, 488,000 evangelical Christians in France. The Gypsy minority is the most evangelical people with 25% of their population having a relationship with Jesus.

*Information taken from Operation World

Leaving Les Cedres

Just when I grow fond of a place, it's time to pack my bags. I settled into a nice life and rhythm at Les Cedres, and though I am excited for all this year holds in using French and serving the French, I was a bit sad to leave. Les Cedres has been for me a slow introduction into life in France and has provided opportunity for language study as well as personal Scripture study. I have officially transitioned to loving French and France! One night we had a music party and it was absolutely fantastic. While Spanish is my favorite language sung (thanks to my sister's vocal chords!), French music grows on me more and more while I toe-tap and bop my head.

We've spent the last days playing games, celebrating different cultures (including an intro to line dancing), taking pictures, drinking coffee, enjoying Massy and Paris; and now most of us have packed our bags and move on to the next place. For some it's back to studies, others to work, others to family. For more it's to the classroom to teach French and for another set, it's to various mission fields--many are nurses, some are teachers, all represent a variety of means and ends in mission and I'm privileged to have learned alongside them and to have shared our stories. I feel wholly inadequate for this coming year, but I see that God wants to use that real inadequacy to his glory, for truly, it's not about us, our abilities, or how best we can serve. It's how God wants to use us and surprise the world by grace made manifest in his people's limits and his strength supplied.

Next, I'm in Sopron, Hungary by way of Vienna for the Greater Europe Mission Annual Conference. I'll spend two days in Vienna afterward, head back to Compiegne to wash clothes and continue setting up my apartment, then cross the Atlantic for a very special wedding. After a whirlwind of activity in the Windy City, it's back to Compiegne for yet more laundry before heading south to the French Alps for a ministry training camp--Groupe Biblique Universitaire (GBU), the French equivalent of Intervarsity. Obviously, for one month, it's a bit of traveling and activity so please keep all of us--me, other GEM missionaries, the McAuleys, and Hemmerles--in your prayers.

Works in Progress

This will be about 3 blogs in 1, mainly because I'm copying and pasting. They are works in progress, and any edits (check the French!) or further ideas would be appreciated.
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"I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that dwelt first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, dwells in you as well." II Timothy 1:5

Grandmommy’s Hands
July 28, 2007

They are knarled now
Swollen to distortion, unable to accomplish the most personal tasks
All day and night, with pain they writhe,
unflexed and still,
lain upon a softly rising chest, swaddled by cloths wrapped by one, faithful 54 years
They appear as old roots sunk deeply and at length past the delicacy of newly tilled soil
Faithful and stable, aged and worn,
once full of ability, now testament solely to their love extended

All they have done reads like a list of an artist’s works,
left buried in a basement, unseen until the needed hour

Lavishly have they ministered in tenderness
To baby’s skin and dirty bottoms and bloody noses
Skillfully have they prepared in love by request
Chicken and noodles, scrambled eggs, and gingerbread cookies
Swiftly have they sent in memory
Stuffed care packages with all those favorite things; personal notes now tucked away in Bibles, journals, boxes—all of them; clipped cartoons and articles that have comforted over many a distance
Sweetly have they given in kindness
A caress of my face, manicure to my hands, and recipes from the family

They have worn with beauty and faithfulness engagement, wedding, and anniversary rings
They have held those same of their mate in sickness and in health
They have raised two children who arise to say, Blessed
They have shuffled cards, stacked dominoes, cleaned house, cared for the grandmothers, and rolled hair
They have lived well and served fully

I have only one, one set of memories
So there must be many more
If this is what I have known, what else is unknown?
What stories should be told to proclaim the magnificent works of a silent life?

They rest still now, admitting all that must be left undone, or left to another
They cannot protest or deny all that before was
Today they have their moment
Today another’s hold, comfort, warm
And their stillness tells the beauty of the generations
The line which continues their strength, their service, their love
We pray

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A La Gare du Nord
July 28, 2007

Your language spoken here
For the visitors
tourists
Mama’s and Papa’s
We are a city of many peoples

You are welcome here
Different shoes
hair
head wraps
Each their own
We are not strangers here
Though we live very far apart
Only passing daily with our bags

Your destination chosen here
For work
pleasure
escape
We are a city linked to many places

You are free to roam far from here
Different capitals
mountains
cities
beaches
All of some place else
But always, come back

Where would you prefer today?
Café across the street
Slide up the Eiffel Tower
Opera in Vienna
Poisson at a port
Guard change at the castle
Waffles and whited sepulchers

Your language spoken here
You are welcome here
Your destination chosen here
Your freedom found here

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How Do You Say…?
July 28, 2007

What is in a language
For wouldn’t your voice in any other be as sweet?

But my language is more than voice,
it is me and would you take that from me?
Moi-meme, she would be lost without her language
Groping for expression amidst a vacuum of metaphors

What is in a language
For wouldn’t your story in another sound the same?

But my story is living and so is my language,
Would you take my breath and leave me
Gasping for the telling?
Without my language, I have no story
It becomes non-descript and I am no longer its subject
But some other tongue

What is in a language
For wouldn’t your relationships be as good?

But my relationships exist in the space between my mind and my actions,
In that holy place where histories, hearts, and humor are shared
In that precious space where we engage according to native rituals born first out of our mouths

Do not mock my language and its power to name all that another would leave silent
Built out of that Tower which by pride was stacked and by power was felled,
it knows me and I it and we complete a unit amidst my people, diaspora
Spread to corners east and west, north and south, beyond borders and over seas,
my language recounts a way of being in the world with others, known only to us,
Us though separated by disparate cultures, by choice, by sin, by structures
Yet, if we listen, the hearing might be had
if we recall the unity our language creates

Do not take it from me
for I would be barren, unable to birth out that which might in the end speak Good.

Mais, la remplace avec une autre
laquelle exprime et vit
Peut-être un jour je trouverai un chemin à dire quel je voudrais
Aujourd’hui, je suis sans ma culture, ma personnalité, mon histoire, moi-meme
Je suis perdue sans tous que je sais
Je suis silencieuse sans tous que je dire
Je suis toute seule sans ma langue

(Translation:
But, replace it with another
which breathes and lives
Maybe one day I will find a way to say what I would
Today, I am without my culture, my personality, my story, myself
I am lost without all that I know
I am silenced without all that I speak
I am alone without my language)