Schleitheim

I had a fantastic and grueling weekend, going first to the canton of Schaffhausen to visit some of the country locations where Anabaptist seed first grew and then also to Zurich, the great city where the Anabaptist seed germinated. In Schaffhausen I visited Schleitheim and the Tauferstein. The countryside around Schaffhausen is just beautiful. Take the picturesque scenes of Lancaster County and double them, and you get some idea. It was simply gorgeous. Schaffhausen, though it is the capital of a Swiss canton, is a small city of only about 40,000 people.

Schleitheim is a short bus ride from Schaffhausen. Schleitheim has a small city museum, and one room is dedicated to the Schleitheim Confession, the confession written early in the Anabaptist movement, 1527, as a way to unite these disparate adult baptizers. The display is very well done, with panels explaining Mennonite beliefs very well in both German and English. And I was surprised to see brightly painted pictures of important Anabaptist events, such as the Zurich disputation on infant baptism and the drowning of Felix Manz. These are all depicted in the Zurich Chronicle, from the perspective of the Reformed Church of course. The volunteer curator was a great man to talk to.

A couple of things for those who might visit. The bus really does take you almost exactly where you need to go. You get off at the Schleitheim Gemeindehaus stop. Samuel Wenger has a series of 4 books on touring important Reformed and Anabaptist locations in Switzerland. Masthof Press out of Morgantown, PA, published them. They are very helpful. They include maps that take you right to the places you want to see, basically. However Wenger assumes you have a car, which I have not had. So I will let people know how to find things by public transportation.

There are also a couple of issues, the first being that you need to call ahead to ask for the museum to be opened, otherwise it is open only on the first Sunday of the month. Herr Bechtold is glad to open it for you, but he only speaks German.

The museum has one of only four copies of the original Schleitheim printing, which is in the photo above. It so happens that the Mennonite Historical Library in Goshen also has one, as the curator told me. The exhibit is well done, thanks to Dr. Urs Leu, a professor in Zurich.

After my visit to the museum I thought I would visit the Tauferstein. The Tauferstein, or baptist stone, is a memorial stone remembering the Anabaptists who fled Switzerland via the Tauferstieg, or baptist path. In German Anabaptist/Mennonites are generally known simply as taufer, or baptist. The stone was put on this path about four years ago as an act of reconciliation from the Reformed for their ancestors persecution of ours.

I was enjoying my time riding my bike along a lovely path. A local woman suggested a way for me to get to Hemmental, near the Tauferstein. But as I biked along I noticed a shortcut on the map. So I took it. Bad idea. It had some grueling climbs. And then as I kept going I just kept climbing and climbing. I saw what was basically a mountain and thought to myself that there was no way I would have to go all the way up that thing to find the Tauferstein. Well, I was wrong.

I think part of my problem is that the map showed numbers like 900, which I took to mean 900 feet. But of course this is Europe and 900 is for meters, or more like 2700 feet. So now we are talking the altitude of some of Pennsylvania's Allegheny Mountains. And it was getting cold and I was now walking my bike, wishing that I was returning the way that I came so that I could leave my bike somewhere. I took a path that ended up being wrong and I felt completely lost on this mountain with no one around and no water. Then I see a famous Swiss spring.

Then I hear a tractor. As he passes me by I flag the farmer down and ask him if he knows where I could find the Tauferstein. Yes he does, but it's difficult to explain and my German isn't that good. He says, I can go with you. I cannot express the relief I felt when he said this, but all I could say was, but you don't have time. He replied that he had lots of time. So he walked with me for about 20 minutes until we found the stone, and then he snapped my photo above.

When I told him that he was like an angel to me, he replied that he was president of Schleitheim, and that when someone visited Schleitheim, he wanted to make sure that they had a good time. Then he gave me directions for a good way down the mountain, and of course when you are on a bicycle going down is a lot of fun. I am so grateful to Herr Stamm for taking the time to make my visit a success. And I met person after person in Schaffhausen who took care of me.

It was getting pretty late by then and I still had a ways to go to the barn where I would be sleeping. So once back in Schaffhausen I hopped on the train to near the place. Since the address was Berghaus, or mountain house, you can imagine that once again I had a steep climb, but it was doable. I made it up the hill just as the sun was setting and the kind farmer's wife made me a hearty supper of potatoes, bacon, eggs, and salad. I ate everything and slept very well and very long. Did I mention that I was exhausted?

It was a satisfying day by the end, though there were moments when I wondered if it was a good idea to be in a foreign country with only a bike. But I again had the opportunity to experience the extraordinary kindness of strangers, a kind of reversal of angels unaware.

Bienenberg

I had a wonderful first week at Bienenberg, which means Bee Mountain in German. I have attached both a photo of where I am staying and the view from my room and the restaurant where I eat here. This was once a resort and is now a retreat center owned by the Mennonites of France, Switzerland, and Germany. Since Basel is located where these three countries meet it is a great location. In general the staff is trilingual, as far as I can tell. Or at least they speak great English along with German. From my window I can see the Black Forest of Germany. I didn't realize that this area was as moutainous, or at least as hilly, as it is.

I had a surprise my first week here in that a group of Swiss Mennonite senior citizens were here on retreat all week long. There are also two German Mennonite volunteers, two brothers from the Palatinate. All of them are very friendly, in that way that older people are so good at being.

A man who once taught at Bienenberg (it is both a training center and retreat center) came up to me and introduced himself. He was very patient with me, like some others have been. And in the gentle way that an older gentleman can do this, he corrected my German. In Switzerland, he told me, we don't use "Sie" with each other, it is "du." Which is to say, they aren't formal with each other, but informal. For those who know Spanish Sie is like Usted and du is of course like tu. I also met a former pastor of the Langnau Mennonite Church, who speaks great English, and the former administrator of a children's home in France. She of course knew the Meyer family. A number of the folks here were in the US as Mennonite Central Committee trainees.

The last night when both they and I were still here, they invited me to a slide show of Switzerland. A man who had died some years ago had taken some great shots of different locations in Switzerland. They were great. Now that I am back from my weekend away, I miss all the people around here. It is now just a few of us.

Finally Basel

I guess you could understand the word "finally" in the title in two ways. The first is that I have finally arrived in Basel. But the other is that here I am, on Thursday, and I am finally getting around to writing about last weekend. Since coming to Switzerland I have been flooded with thoughts and feelings and I guess I am not sure where to start. Also I am going to be at Bienenberg for about a month, and so I figure I can take my time in explaining what is going on.

So let me begin with my weekend. As I said, Irene's relative met me at the Basel Bahnhof (train station). He helped me with my luggage as we went onto two different trams to his home. Basel is an extremely pedestrian friendly city, and he does not own a car, though he is part of a car coop so that he can use one when he needs one to go out into the country.

Andy is married with one small daughter. She is such a cutie, under a year old. She smiles all the time. They were a very friendly and welcoming family. For my meal there, we had curry. He noted that curry is not particularly Swiss, but he made it with fruit, which is. It was delicious.

Andy lived in the US for several years and speaks great English. It was fun to talk to him about some of the differences and what we appreciate in both countries. On one of their doors they have affixed two photographs of the prairie. For him the prairie is so beautiful because you can see for miles; he is accustomed to being hemmed in by the mountains. I found this hard to believe and we realized that you can more easily appreciate what you do not have in ample supply.

On the other hand he did not miss American plumbing. He said that American water faucets are too close to the bottom of the sink. There's no room for your hands. And certainly a visitor to Switzerland is immediately impressed with all the smart technology. The plumbing really is impressive. Some toilets have two buttons depending on how much water is needed. All the showers vary both the pressure and the temperature in a very easy to use way.

The windows also astound me. You turn the handle one way and they open as vents at the top, the other way and the swing wide open. And get this, they don't use screens. I was just waiting to be invaded by a horde of insects. But really it was no problem. It's nice for the view but I'm guessing that they get away with it only because their summertime temperatures are not nearly as high as in Indiana. So far it has been in the 60s and 70s Fahrenheit.

And finally the electrical lights are also amazing. They use motion sensors so that as you go from room to room the lights turn on. Eventually they go off.

I went with the family to the Schaenzli Mennonite Church in Muttenz. They were having a joint service with the local Reformed Church and the Reformed preacher spoke. He was more formal, wearing a robe and special things around his neck. He spoke about reaching out across boundaries.

The church is alive and well and very active. It is a young church with many young families. Apparently Swiss Mennonites have experienced some decline some years ago, but at least recently it appears they are alive and well and reaching out. It has been exciting to see how strong Christian faith is in Europe since I more easily hear about how weak it is becoming. From Taize and my experience here, it is clear to me that there is still many strong Christians in Europe.

My photo is of the church "parking lot." It is mostly bikes. And you see this kind of thing everywhere. Even at the Rathause, which would be like the Indiana State Legislature, you see men in business suits riding bikes and then parking them in the long line of bicycles in front of the building. What's not to love about a country like this?

Geneva

Saturday was a long, hard day of travel. I rode on one bus, three trains, and two trams before I arrived at my destination in Basel. That means I carried my luggage seven times. I had a small bruise where one of my bags bumped against my arm. I was travelling for about 12 hours, though that includes a long stay in Geneva. I spent about 4-5 hours there because this is probably the only time I will see this beautiful lakeside city. Swiss train stations have lockers for luggage, but my luggage was too big. The guy at the luggage office complained to me bitterly about taking my luggage, but since I don't understand much French it wasn't much of a problem.

After having a typical Genevois meal of Filets de perche, perch filets, I strolled through the old city. I saw the home where John Calvin once lived and the Cathedrale St-Pierre where he preached. It was called the Protestant church of Europe.

During Reformation times, Geneva was a great city of tolerance and Protestant Reformation. As I looked at the various monuments, such as this one of Calvin, John Knox, and two other important Protestants figures, I found myself wondering why Anabaptists were not included in this tolerance. The monument goes through a whole series of proclamations of toleration for various religious views and we can be thankful that this toleration has spread so widely, though still not widely enough as many people are still persecuted for their beliefs.

As I returned to the train station, I caught a glimpse of Geneva's famous Jet d'Eau, or water spray. It is a nice touch. The region is full of beauty and I could not believe how far and wide Lake Geneva goes. We saw it from the train for a long time, and it was just the first of a couple of lakes.

A relative of my temporary German teacher Irene welcomed me for the night. But I will say more about that when I describe my first Sunday at church.

Cluny the once great, now mostly a ruin

One day at Taize I went to Cluny, what was once the head of a great Benedictine order of monsasteries. This is just a small village but at one point it had the largest church in all of Christendom. After the anti-clericalism of the French Revolution, most of it was destroyed. The one picture shows the ruins of the great columns that were in the church. And the big tower in the other picture is the only remaining of three great towers that once stood there. The church in Europe became very powerful and used much of that power to gain even more power and money. In that sense I can understand the revolution. But I can't help but think that the French themselves wish that the church was still there. What a tourist attraction they would have!

Tokens of community

I have left Taize now, but I wanted to say a little something about community life there. We form a bit of a community in the "adult" section of Taize, everyone over 30. We have small group meetings in the afternoon that are of course based on language. My group changed each time, with a couple of Americans, British, Dutch, Swedes, and an English-speaking German who I guess preferred to speak to people outside of Germany since there were plenty of German speakers there.


I started to hang out with some of these folks, especially two British women who were there a couple of days. The one day I went out biking they gave me a lift to the local village which enabled me to buy some sunglasses and get out a little further on the Green Way, Voie Verte, a magnificent bicycle path that passes through Taize and kilometers of French countryside.


I also met two Swiss among all the Germans, and got to know the one a little bit. Thursday was a bit of a change since these acquaintances left, leaving me again without people to quickly join in dining. So it is an interesting and changing community at Taize. I miss it a lot. It is a camp atmosphere, only this is for adults. And I realized that this community would never gather again.


At the same time I realized that on my European sojourn I am not alone. I realized how one person after another has offered hospitality to me. In one sense this is a community, though hardly one, or at least a conglomeration of people who are making my trip possible. I have received several tokens of this community.


The woman who gave me a ride in Chicago gave me some of the wet wipes she sells, for when I need to clean up after a bike ride. Someone from Colorado gave me a small pocket cross as a token of blessing during my time of sabbatical. Finally one of the British women gave me her hair brush.


When they gave me a ride to the neighboring village I had also wanted to purchase a hairbrush, but since my hair is thick and I need a special kind, I couldn't find what I needed. They had teased me when they gave me a ride about the dangers of taking rides from strange women, after my experience in Chicago. I retorted with telling them that so far people were giving me gifts. So on the day they left one of them gave me her hairbrush, which was just the right kind. I was so surprised I don't know if I thanked her or not, I am sure I didn't thank her enough. All of these people are showing me great kindness and I appreciate these reminders of conversations that we had and especially these reminders of their grace and hospitality in making my time go a little better as I travel from one place to another.


Now that I am in Basel of course this story of hospitality continues. I stayed in the home of a local Mennonite family here and they again showed me extraordinary kindness.

Singing at Taize, Part 2

I've added some photos now that I have reliable internet access with my computer. Attached to this post is the Taize Church of the Reconciliation.

My final evening in Taize was special for two reasons. During one of the services two of the German women noticed that I sing bass and Spanish. I explained that I am an American, but that Spanish is my second language. They invited me to join them that evening to continue to sing Taize songs after the Taize brothers left.

To understand their plan you need to understand a little bit more about Taize songs and worship. Taize songs are generally repetitive chants with no end. You keep singing them over and over again until the song leader decides to sing amen or just stop. You can see this as a lack of artistry if you like, but I think there is something else at work here. I think it is a way to keep the prayer going--since Taize songs are prayers--it is moving us towards praying without ceasing.

The worship services work in a similar way. They do not end! There is no benediction. At some point, the majority of the brothers get up and leave the room, leaving an instrumentalist and a vocalist to lead a couple of songs. And then those two leave as well, leaving the room with whoever happens to still be there. Every other night I was there the group would sing one or at most two songs. But without the brothers to sing the harmonies, the music would peter out.

Again I think the lack of a benediction is pointing to the idea of praying without ceasing. We take our prayers and songs into our hearts during the rest of the day. And the experience of worship at Taize really does make a big difference in your life the rest of the time too. The whole time does feel like a time of worship.

So anyway these two German women told me that during the summer and holidays the people at Taize keep singing for hours after the brothers leave. So they invited another German they knew who sang tenor and the four of us sat close to each other as the service was starting to wind down. Then when there was no song number announced on the LED board, one of the women called out a number in German and we would go to it. I noticed that a lot of the songs were German and finally started requesting some English ones too. We kept singing for perhaps 1 to 2 hours after a lot of people had left. Maybe 20 people stayed with us. We was a great experience of worship and singing. Perhaps a fourth of the songs were new to me and so that took some concentration and at times guessing the notes. But it went well. As Germans would say, das war toll!

The other special thing about this final night was that on Friday night they always bring out the icon of the cross and invite you to kneel at it, symbolically laying down your burdens at Jesus' feet. I certainly had burdens to lay down and so I went to the cross. About six people gather around it at a time and while everyone else keeps singing those at the cross are absolutely silent. It was such a holy silence. I felt myself suspended between heaven and earth. Perhaps that is a good way to describe Taize.