Thursday, September 19, 2024

The Prayer-Intelligencer: September 2024

 


It smelled like five hundred years of prayer. Damp stone, old wood, the soot of centuries of swinging censers of frankinsence. The sanctuary of the monastery of Vranov u Brna was a quiet place where I could unload all the noise in my head before the Lord. I spent several hours in there over the week. I wondered what my prayers must have smelled like to God--questions and fears and worries and hopes and dreams, dumped out like a box of Legos on the stone pavers.

This corner of the world where, Lord willing, I'll soon be making my home, is kind of an enigma. For one, because it played a central role in the flourishing of Western Christianity. Jan Hus, a Czech theologian, was an early reformer (and martyr) who lay many of the foundation "stones" that Martin Luther would walk on, a century later.

And the birth of the modern missions movement traces back to 18th-century Czech Moravian refugees who were burdened to make Christ known throughout the world. In response, they began a prayer meeting, which continued uninterrupted, 24 hours a day, for a hundred years. It resulted in action--many of their number went on to carry the gospel to all corners of the Earth, at tremendous personal sacrifice. Practically every mission society and agency that exists today can, in some way, trace its legacy to that movement of humble Czech Christians with a vision for a world-wide gospel.

And even as late as 1989, Czech Christians, though comparatively few in number, played a significant role in the Velvet Revolution, the peaceful overthrow of the communist regime of what was then Czechoslovakia.

And yet today, the Czech Republic is considered one of the most spiritually desolate places in the world. This cradle of Western Christianity is now more like a crypt. Only a tiny fraction of Czechs consider themselves a part--even nominally--of any Christian faith community--Catholic, Orthodox, or Protestant. Yet the beautiful skeletons of its rich history can be seen everywhere. In some cases, literally.  


On one of my last days in the Czech Republic, I took a train to nearby Kutná Hora, home of a UNESCO World Heritage site, the Sedlec Ossuary (see photo above). It contains the bones of some 60,000 people, which have been artfully placed into stunning (albeit macabre) designs. As I stared into the empty eye sockets, I was haunted by the question posed in Ezekiel 37: "Can these bones live again?"

I was fighting back tears, overcome by a powerful longing to see and hear and feel and smell the Spirit of God from the four winds breathe new life into this valley of bones.

I reflected back on interactions I'd had over the previous couple weeks with young people who desperately want to know and experience God, but who feel like they have no spiritual home, no space where their questions can be heard, or place where their wrestlings and doubts can be expressed. These places are not easy to find in North America...how much harder in the Czech Republic!

When people ask me what motivates me to pursue this unexpected journey, this is the only reason I have to give: I am seized by an overwhelming desire to be a part of what God is doing--and going to do--here. Here I am! Send me!

I don't know what all that will look like. I don't have any grand ideas or lofty visions. I see Maja and Miša, Oleh and Ondra, Kuba and Pepa and Anička and Tobiaš and Hanka and Michal and Rachel and Adam and Honza and Agáta and so many others with whom I've worshiped and wrestled (in some cases literally), laughed and struggled and prayed. I yearn for Christ to be seen and known and loved and worshiped here, among them.

All I have are two hands and a willing spirit--crusty loaves and dried fish. What is that, up against so great a need? I can do nothing else but place them in the hands of the One who can multiply and feed.

So what did my prayers smell like in that sanctuary? Maybe like the thunderstorm, the fading blooms of the linden trees, the pinecones in the mud, the grass on the ground, the dusty leather of a volleyball, vegetable soup and sweet koláčes, and a hot, crowded room full of young people in worship.



Massive thunderstorm we had one night!

The beautiful landscape surrounding the camp.

Getting ready for games!
Worship is often quite lively.

My English crew the first week.

My English crew the second week.



A Full Month!

I had an appointment with a visa agent the morning after I arrived in Prague on July 24. It felt like another notch in the "oh-wow-this-is-getting-real" belt. Then I spent the afternoon with my future colleagues of the Czech Evangelical Alliance, and enjoyed getting to know them better over some tasty gulaš, and contemplating what my service there may look like.

Then it was off to the Scripture Union English Camp with four others from West Side Church. During the first week, I knew most of the leaders and teen campers from the previous year, and it was fun to reconnect with them (adolescent angst and all), and continue forging the relationships begun last year. The second week saw a whole new batch of kids and leaders--strangers on day one, but not so by the end of the week. Two weeks of camp were intense and exhausting, but I was really glad to have done it.

For many of these kids, English camp is the highlight of their year. On the last morning of the second week, I was sitting at breakfast with three guys from my English group. I asked them if they were looking forward to going home. They all shook their heads. "So how much longer would you want to stay?" One student, a Ukrainian refugee, said quietly, "One...or maybe two years."

Some of the conversations I got to have with the campers and leaders were life-giving to me. They resonated deeply with the growing burden I have for the spiritual formation of this generation of Czechs. After one young woman thanked me for taking the time for a particularly intense conversation about how we hear from God, I told her how much I loved conversations like this. She grinned and said, "Well, then perhaps God is trying to tell you something!"

Perhaps indeed. I'm listening!


After camp, I attended the Alongside Ministries biennial gathering, held at the aforementioned Vranov monastery near the city of Brno. It was a phenomenal week in an incredible setting. In total we were a gathering of approximately 50 people, including most of the Alongside missionaries and families, board members, and a number of representatives of supporting churches (including West Side).

Alongside is small, currently with only 11 (myself included) missionary units (families, couples, or single people). One Alongsider described the organization as "scrappy"...nimble, innovative, and held together by nothing more and nothing less than the Holy Spirit's unique call, with all the struggles and benefits of being a small ministry.

It was a joy to get enfolded into this Alongside community and participate in the discussions about the challenges and opportunities for gospel outreach in Europe. I came away both more excited about being a part of it, and more overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of the task!

Europe may not be the first place that springs to mind when you hear "unreached people." Yet many Europeans are generations, and even centuries removed from the gospel fire that first swept the continent. We have so much to learn from our European brothers and sisters who still carry the gospel flame, working diligently in this difficult environment. Alongside exists (as our name suggests) to come alongside them to help shoulder the burden of this work.




Alongside gathering participants, Vranov u Brna Monastery

Vranov Monastery courtyard

Veveří Castle, near Brno

Baltic Sea, Estonia

Old Town, Tallinn, Estonia

Russian embassy, Tallinn. There are some strong opinions being expressed here.




Following the Alongside Gathering, several attendees and I continued on to Estonia for a few days at the invitation of Alongsiders who live and work there. It was great to experience the Estonian culture, people, history, and landscape. But it was also a powerful education about the imminence of Europe's geopolitical struggles. We happened to be there on the 33rd anniversary of Estonia's declaration of independence from the Soviet Union (and the subsequent dissolution of the USSR). Yet no place in Estonia is more than a short drive from the Russian border, and Putin's breath down their necks is a palpable reality. Freedom and democracy are incredibly fragile, and not taken for granted. And their fate is closely tied to the actions and character of their allies, the United States included. These were very sobering realizations.

Now, back in the United States, I am faced with an enormous task of closing up shop here, so to speak, and preparing to move. There is much to do. As for when I'll actually be boarding a plane for Prague, mid-spring is still the target, but that is ultimately up to the Lord.




FOR YOUR PRAYERS…

Praise God for a great experience in the Czech Republic and Estonia. Please pray for the lonely voice of the gospel in these lands to take deep root and spread; for more growing, healthy churches who use innovation and creativity to make Christ known; and for this generation of Czech youth and young adults, that many will be called and equipped to be salt and light in their culture.

Please pray for wisdom for me in all the many preparations for departure. It's a daunting laundry list--visa application, partnership development, readying my home and probably a hundred other things I haven't even thought of yet!
Praise God for His generous support and provision--and thanks to so many of you! Please continue to pray for the people God is raising up to partner with me in ongoing prayer and financial support...and if you are not already, pray about whether you might be one of them!


Blessings in Christ,