when it's time to stop

{photo credit}

It should have been the perfect movie for a girls’ night in. The cast contained an impressive number of stellar British actors, the film is supposed to be an entertaining comedy, and several of my friends have told me I would enjoy it. So Mom and I curled up on the couch ready for a delightful evening. We had every intention of liking the film, which made it a bummer when we decided to quit with forty minutes to go.

The actors were, indeed, knock-your-socks-off, there were many instances of dry British wit, and I was rooting for several of the characters. The overarching idea for the story was compelling.  But the details of the individual storylines were irreparably flawed.

Almost without exception, the storylines of the individual characters – even the dear, sweet, elegant lady who I wanted to end up happy – were morally compromising. No, more than that: they were designed to make sin look not only acceptable or excusable, but appealing. They were crafted in such a way that the only possible “happy ending” was one on terms that I could not accept.

Now, I am not saying that to be good a film has to uphold every traditional Christian value that I believe in. I have seen and deeply appreciated films that have serious flaws. The problem is when suddenly, in the world of the film, outright sin – of many different varieties – is unapologetically and unequivocally portrayed as right. This was one of those films.

So we turned it off. I checked on Wikipedia to satisfy our curiosity as to how it ended, and to find out if somehow things were redeemed in the end. They weren’t. In order to be satisfied with the “happy ending,” we would have had to been satisfied with sin being portrayed as something with no consequences.  

It was thought-provoking, how appealing sinful attitudes and actions were made to appear in this movie. It made my mom and me discuss how Satan masquerades as an angel of light. It can’t be wrong if it’s so beautiful, we think. But our perception of what is beautiful has been twisted by the fall, and only marinating in the truth of Scripture can heal our broken perspectives. I am so grateful to my parents for teaching me to love and seek after truth for as long as I can remember. Although it would be easier to have dulled perceptions of right and wrong – being able to enjoy the comic elements of such a film without having a pit in my gut at how twisted it was – I wouldn’t have it any other way. Because it is truth that sets us free – free from the laws of sin and death that appear so appealing to our fallen vision, free to recognize and see the beauty of righteousness, and free to choose between them.

the big picture

Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him, rooted and built up in Him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving. ~Colossians 1:6-7


Today I read Colossians. In English. It is the first time in over a month that I have read the Bible in my own language. The surprising thing is, that didn't actually seem like such a big deal.

For the vast majority of the Wheaton in Germany trip, I read the Bible in German. But rather than being laborious, this was soothing to my soul. During the very first week of the trip, when I was absolutely exhausted from German immersion, I opened up my Luther Bible to read the living word of God. And even though it was in a different language, it was sweet, familiar, and restorative. Just as much as, if not more so, than reading something else in English or speaking English. Even when I came across words that I didn't know in German, it wasn't a problem: I may not be fluent in German, but I am quite comfortable with the words of Scripture.

The reason that reading the Bible - even in German - was more refreshing to me than taking a much-needed break from the German language is that even though the English language is one of my most basic elements of who I am, my faith is the fundamental element of who I am.

Many things on this trip have reminded me of a verse that I love:

"But our citizenship is in heaven, and we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ." ~Philippians 3:20

As I felt the tension between my love of Germany and my love of America, I remembered that my citizenship is in heaven.

As I made friends who I now feel like I have known for years, not weeks, I remembered that my closest community is not defined by culture or blood ties, but by shared faith in Christ.

As I read the Bible in German, I remembered that the Word of God bridges cultures, millennia, languages and oceans to speak truth into the hearts of humanity and draw us into His eternal kingdom.

of beautiful neighborhoods and internships

I got of the Straßenbahn - commuter train - on a whim. As I headed home from my internship, I had glanced out the window and noticed some beautiful old buildings that merited further exploration. So I stepped off the train to investigate.


I found myself in a beautiful neighborhood. I think it was an old military post from before the war, and the barracks have now been turned into apartment buildings. I wandered for awhile, and then found this building.

It was a Red Cross station during the Cold War, where volunteers cared for refugees who had made it out of East Berlin. Normally I would have glanced at the sign, thought, "That's interesting," and moved on. But that day I stopped to think.

I am through with the first part of the Wheaton in Germany program, and am now interning with a Christian organization - the Berliner Stadtmission - that among other things provides a waystation for refugees arriving in Berlin from the Balkans, the Middle East, and several countries in Africa. The day I explored that beautiful old neighborhood was my second day working in the kitchen and housekeeping in the Stadtmission's refugee center.

Finding this old center put what I'm doing in a broader historical context. For thousands of years, people have fled from their homes as refugees to other countries, whether because of famine or war or persecution or oppressive regimes. These people did not start off as refugees. They lived normal lives - until their lives fell apart. The refugees cared for in the old Red Cross building were fleeing oppression. The ones I am serving now are trying to escape homelands torn apart by war or persecution. They all decided that things were so bad that they were willing to leave everything behind to start again somewhere else.

When refugees come to Berlin today, they are utterly disoriented. Most of them don't speak German. They are trying to figure out where they will stay, how they will eat, and what the next step is. The Stadtmission is one of the first places they are directed to. It provides food, shelter, recreation, and language lessons. The turnover there is fast - people usually stay only 3-4 days until moving on to the next station. The Stadtmission is a place for them to begin to figure out where to go next.

What I do at the Stadtmission is inglorious work. I hand out food, clean the kitchen, strip beds. It is inglorious, but it is necessary.  Someone asked me what my motivation is to work at the Stadtmission. The obvious answer is that I'm getting college credit for it. But honestly, that's not really a good enough reason to do menial labor for forty hours a week for four weeks. My real motivation, as for many of the people that volunteer at the Stadtmission, is faith. Volunteering at the Stadtmission is a form of washing feet - taking the love that Jesus has poured out on me and giving it to others in the form of humble service. This is the kind of service I as a Christian am called to do.

I mulled over all of this as I wandered through the Sudkreutz neighborhood of Berlin - I have a feeling I will pondering a lot more during the coming weeks of my internship.