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Autumn
has officially begun here in Lisbon. The seasonal rains have begun and the air is cool. We even had a small thunder storm last night. It
was weird hearing thunder since I hadn't heard it since we left the
States. The ringing of the morning tardy bell has
signaled that kids are back in school across the street from our apartment
and there are many back- to-school signs and sales throughout the city.
 Our language program continues
to progress. We are on the last unit of the school's
program that covers the major areas of grammar in Portuguese. We are told that once we finish this section we will know all
of the major grammatical aspects of the language. Now,
if we can just learn how to speak them with fluency we will be raring
to go!! We are really trying to take every opportunity
to speak and listen to the language. It is getting
easier to understand; we can follow along fairly well with TV, and our
communication with people on the street is also improving. Of course there are still days when we feel like we will never
"arrive," but that is part of the language learning process it seems! The rest of the team is doing well with the language also. Jeremy
Smith, who knew Spanish fluently before arriving in Portugal,
is at an advanced level. We praise God for this gift
and are thankful for his progress-it gives us a sense of hope to think
that we will be able to do the same some day.
Asher
is doing well. His eye is continuing to be an irritation
to him and his parents. Please continue in prayer
for this. For the past two weeks he has been on some
medication to clear up an infection in his tear duct. We
are hoping that we can get rid of the infection and inflammation so
we can proceed with the minor surgery to open the duct. We found a doctor at the British
Hospital
who will be able to perform the operation. We will
be meeting with him this coming Monday to make some decisions-please
pray for God's healing and guidance.
KH
 A few Saturdays ago, we went,
with the Smiths, to a city named Evora in the middle of Portugal. The city has been named as a world heritage site for its rich
history and architecture. There are over 50 churches
in the city that display different architectural periods. There are also Roman ruins in the city. However,
of the most memorable sites we saw on that Saturday was the "capela
dos ossos" (chapel of bones). Built between 1460
and 1510, the small chapel is completely lined with human bones- including
skulls. No one is sure where the bones came from,
but some suggest that a mass grave was found when the chapel was being
constructed. Within the small chapel, there are a
little over 5,000 skulls in the walls. As you enter
the room, engraved in stone above the entrance is a message: "Our bones
that remain here are waiting for yours!" To add the
ish to ghoulish, there are two full skeletons still with their ragged
clothes hanging from their bodies on a wall near the front of the chapel. The first skeleton is of male childe and second is of an adult
male. Again, legend has it that this 'father and
son' were very mean to their wife and mother. A strange
event happened, and they both died. When they died,
the mother cursed them with these words: "May the ground never receive
you."
Make
no bones about it; this was a very strange visit! I
was wondering before we entered the chapel why there were so many signs
prohibiting pet dogs from coming inside! (sorry) Anyway,
can you imagine going to your local congregational auditorium every
Sunday and seeing such a sight? Now let's not pretend
that strange and dreadful things have never happened in the worship
auditorium. I seem to remember a story in Acts where
a couple dropped dead in front of Peter. Again can
you imagine seeing such things during collection time on a Sunday morning! In all seriousness, I am sure the monks who used to worship there
in the Chapel of Bones wanted to communicate and remind themselves of
the brevity of life-and also the hope of life beyond them bones, them
bones, them dry bones (sorry again). Nevertheless,
I couldn't help but think of some other Christians in church history
who worshipped among the dead. Without choice, the
underground church of Rome
during the age of persecution, worshiped in the catacombs of Rome-literally
the graveyard. Imagine in the flickering candlelight,
shadows dancing over the walls where the dead were stored in holes. Imagine reading Ezekiel 37 (valley of dry bones) or taking the
Lord's Supper in a graveyard or morgue.
Only
two thoughts (1) Our roots as a religion are found in a graveyard. In the past we buried our dead next to the church building. Now we tend to worship in whitewashed rooms far from the walled
of cities of the dead. I wonder if we push the dead
away and in so doing we push away the radical nature of our faith. Life will be remade in these dead bones. Do
we forget sometimes? (2) I wonder if we lose our calling of risk as
followers of the One Who Died For All, by distancing ourselves from
the bones of our ancestors. I wonder if we want to
write a different story than the one given to us in the gospel? I wonder if we want to live the way of Jesus without that cross
part. Can there not be resurrection without cross?
The world during the age of suffering hasn't really changed, have we?
(By
the way, the daddy and son in this picture try to be nice to their wife
and mom everyday!!)
KH
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I
am ever amazed at the things I learn about God and myself as I find
myself on this journey called parenthood. It is just
a glimpse into the relationship with have with God to see how the parent-child
relationship forms and grows. We have a pretty set
routine with Asher here in Portugal-
not necessarily because we were trying to get him on any kind of schedule,
but it has just formed because of the nature of our language school
and the way that shapes our days. Every morning,
Kyle has Asher while I go to school, then at 10:30, I meet Kyle at school and we swap
Asher. Then, I come back home with Asher; it's really
a good bit of traveling for Asher- the bus then the metro to school
only to turn around and get back on the metro and then the bus again
to come home. It has always been our routine to get
a popsicle as soon as we walk in the door after all this traveling around
town. Asher looks forward to it the entire way home,
and it keeps him somewhat patient as we ride along.
Well,
the past few weeks Asher has been growing more and more independent.
When we get off the bus a couple blocks from our
apartment, he wants get down and walk home instead of being carried. This is fine with me as we are in no hurry and the sidewalks
near our apartment are wide and not too busy this time of day. Asher enjoys taking his time- stopping to investigate every worm,
rock, and clump of dirt along the path. He wants
to touch everything, throw it, you know- see what it is made of!! A
couple of weeks ago as he was playing in some dirt on the grounds of
the large Catholic Church building near our apartment, I thought, "You
know, if I am letting him touch everything, I should probably wash his
hands before I give him a popsicle." That day when
we got home, I told him he could have his popsicle after we washed his
hands. When we walked in the door, he ran to the
kitchen as usual, and I had to drag him to the bathroom while he screamed
"Pop!!" I washed his hands quickly, the entire time
trying to calmly explain he would get it as soon as I washed his hands,
but he was hysterical. His routine was off, and he
did not understand. I gave a popsicle to him as soon
as we washed his hands, but this scenario continued the next day as
well. On the third day, in the elevator I was again
explaining to Asher that he could have a popsicle as soon as we washed
the germs off his hands. Expecting another battle,
I braced myself as we walked through the door. To
my delight, he ran straight to the bathroom smiling as we washed hands,
and as soon as I dried his hands he looked right up at my with the cutest
little smile on his face and said, "Mama, pop?" "Of
course," I said as we walked to the kitchen to get one from the freezer. We haven't had a problem with hand washing since!
It
is in moments like these that I feel this great sense of accomplishment
and joy- not just because I was able to get Asher to quit throwing a
fit, but more because I was able to teach him to trust me. Since he was born, I have been trying to cultivate this sense
of trust by meeting his needs and responding to him in a loving, respectful
way. Throughout Scripture, we see the analogy of
God the parent- nurturing and comforting us at the breast (Isaiah 66:12-13),
gathering us under her wings (Matt. 23:37), and providing good things for
us like a father who feeds his children (Luke 11:11). Understanding
the joy and fulfillment that parenting Asher brings to me, I feel like
I have just a taste of the delight God has in us when we make the decision
to trust him- to lay our lives in His hands when we sometimes would
rather do something else. To me, the kind of trust
we have with God is not a blind trust as if we were pieces of a chess
board that God completely controlled. Our trust does
not consist simply of accepting everything that happens in life as if
everything that happened to us were what God intended. There
would not be a need for dialogue- prayer- in this kind of relationship. Our trust, rather, is based on the knowledge, the continual conversation
we as Christians and the Church have with the Creator of life. When we entrust our lives, our decisions to him, we are acknowledging
that we know he wants only good for us- whether that comes in the way
we hope or not. May we be reminded of how our Father
has provided for us- the church- through a tumultuous history, hurt
for us and with us, and how he is trying to gently guide us into truth
and growth. And.maybe more than that, may we be humbly
listening, discerning, and obedient to Him, the ultimate parent.
GH
Blessings
By
the tender mercy of our God,
The
dawn from on high will break upon us,
To
give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
 To guide our feet into the way of peace.
Luke
1:78-79
September
2003/Vol 2 No. 6
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