Pasen

Easter weekend - a busy time here in the community. Every other year the community celebrates Easter (Pasen, in Dutch) internally. The off years people do things with their own churches.

Preparations really began way back in late February, at the beginning of Lent. As a community we observed Lent by not eating meat together six days of the week. We also skipped desert and ate in silence (well, at least an Oudezijds Silence, which is like a normal silence but with more crying children), although classical music was played during the meal. On Sundays we had normal, meat-intensive dinners with talking.

Last week, Pasen started in earnest. To the normal morning and evening prayers we added a midday prayer and I guess what you would refer to as vespers compline. There were also other special services.

Thursday was Passover, and that was a big event. The entire community came together for a huge meal/service that included scripture readings and foot washing. The prohibition on meat was lifted for that meal, and I have to say that the food was surprisingly delicious! Even though the meal contained all the traditional passover ingredients, like matza.

Friday was of course Good Friday. Among other events and special prayers, an art teacher visited us and helped people draw the stations of the cross. I didn't participate, but the resulting art (charcoal sketches arranged on the chapel floor) looked cool.

Oh, did I mention that I was on Weekend Team? Usually this duty is a two-and-a-half day affair, but this time it went from Thursday night to Monday night! Fortunately we had six people to cover things, so it wasn't too crazy.

Saturday night something very special began - an all night prayer vigil, "Paaswake". From 8 PM to 8 AM there were hourly readings. The chapel was kept darkened except for a light on the spot that was designated our 'tomb' - a gate against the wall, adorned with flowers. I didn't go for the whole night, since I had duties that required being awake the following day, but I did get up early Sunday morning so I could sit for a couple of hours.

At 8:30 the wake ended and the Easter Service began. The chapel was (quickly) converted from a place of dark solitude to a place of light, filled with candles and draped in white. Once we had stuffed the entire community in there it seemed like a real fire hazard, but fortunately nothing inappropriate caught fire. The service was long and elaborate, but very nice, with a lot of singing and liturgy. I liked the way that it followed on from the wake, with a general theme of light into darkness. At the end, we all trouped out onto the main street of the red light district and sang a hymn. There weren't many souls stirring out there at that hour, but for those that were I bet that that's something they don't hear everyday.

And then, it was time to celebrate. Breakfast was a huge buffet, with enough that everyone could stuff themselves on whatever they wanted. Eggs, pannekoeken, bacon, you name it. There were chocolates and confections and half a dozen children under foot. It was glorious. Brenda commented, "I love Easter!" And I know what she meant. It really felt like we'd done something, that we'd been on a journey and arrived. That's a feeling you don't get if you just celebrate Easter Sunday by dressing up and going to church that morning.

Sunday evening was a very big dinner which was amazing and which I blame for my subsequent convalescence today.

Oh by the way, Monday is a national holiday here. Yep, everyone gets the day after Easter off. It was very nice weather and I'm sure everyone who wasn't feeling bloated to twice their normal size enjoyed it. Ah well!

Anyway, that was Easter in the community. Some semblance of normalcy now returns. It's really truly spring here now, too, so I anticipate that the next few weeks should be pleasant.

Turnover

As the year draws to a close there are a lot of changes happening in the community. Several people in the 'Opstaap' program are moving on. Some are leaving us entirely, for various reasons. Others will still be around, but are moving to more independent housing outside the main house as they continue the process of figuring out their lives. We wish them all the best.

Meanwhile, there are new people coming in. It's funny how people find us. Some of course come in through approved, official channels - they are referred to us by the government or some sort of program or shelter - but it seems that fairly often they just stumble across us. They come in through the window rather than the door, you might say.

A recent example: one night Marco and I were in the kitchen watching a movie on TV when one of the doctors from the Kruispost, the medical clinic in the basement, knocked on the door. She had in tow a patient - a mother with a young boy. While treating the mother for a fever the doctor discovered that the two of them didn't have a place to stay for the night. So she brought them around.

They stayed for a couple of nights while arrangements were made for them and then they left (the mother completely recovered, by the way). And now, a week or two later, they're back to stay for a while! So you can see the way things tend to work around here.

Also in the realm of the unplanned - the sudden turnover around here. There's no rule, as far as I know, that everybody has to be out by the end of the year. That's just the way it has worked out. Hopefully folks are moving on to bigger and better things, getting their lives back together and charting a new course for themselves. And new folks will come in through the doors and windows to replace them.

In the meantime, things are a little bit quieter around here.

---

On a purely meditative note: it occurred to me yesterday that living in different countries is a really good way to observe the different forms that grace can take. I've experienced faith related work in China, in Haiti, and now in Amsterdam. And it seems as though in each place they experience grace differently.

In China, the grace they need is freedom. Freedom from political oppression and millennia old traditions that have bound that people in servitude. In Haiti, the grace they need is the day-to-day necessities of survival. And here in the Red Light District, a different kind of grace again. A grace to overcome addictions and troubled pasts and all the baggage that life in the modern world can saddle us with.

In each place I've seen radically different people with radically different needs. In spite of this, I believe that the same grace covers all of them. If it looks different from place to place and person to person, that's just because we in our human limitations can only perceive a small part of it at a time.

What a great motivation to travel, though! If we stay at home in our own comfortable spaces we might never get to see all these many other faces of grace. We might think that God worked the same way, every time, for every person. And that would be a tragedy, because my experience of him is that he is so much bigger than that!

Grace is bigger than we are. It's not defined by our limited perspectives. It's wildly different from person to person and from nation to nation. And you can't truly begin to understand that without experiencing it for yourself.

Amsterdam Questions Answered

I thought I'd tackle a couple of questions that some commentors have posed. The answers aren't short, but they do involve pictures, so stick with me!

First of all, my dad asks whether I've felt acceptance as an American living in Europe.

Well, let's just say that so far I haven't felt it necessary to pose as a Canadian. The Dutch at least don't seem to harbor any special antipathy towards Americans. Actually it never ceases to amaze me how curious people are about American political processes, so the revelation of my nationality usually leads to questions about how I voted, who I think is going to win, and differences between forms of governments (the Dutch have adopted the typical European parliamentary model of government and also have a constitutional monarchy).

If the Dutch harbor any nationalistic antipathies, they seem to be reserved for the Germans and the British. It probably goes without saying that their friendly rivalry with the Germans is a result of that little misunderstanding back in 1940. And the British? Well, since their main contribution to Dutch culture is endless waves of drunken tourists, you can see how even unfailingly affable Nederlanders might get a little annoyed.

---

Patrick was curious about chapel and I am now in a position to offer up more information on that as well. And I have pictures. So, buckle up!



There is morning and evening chapel every day but Sunday. Attendance is not mandatory, but encouraged. Services are conducted in Dutch unless there are an unusual number of English speakers present. The brothers and sisters and people deeply involved with the community take it in turns to lead the services.

We usually start with a little bit of liturgy, then a hymn is sung. Then there is silent prayer to prepare our hearts for God. After this another song may be sung. There is a reading from a pre-selected passage of the Bible, sometimes prefaced by a short explanation. After this there is usually a moment to meditate on what we have heard. Sometimes the leader will then give a brief message based off the scripture. There is more prayer, and then another, relevant song. Sometimes the prayer may involve more liturgy. At the end we all recite the Lord's Prayer together, a community member blesses us, and then it's time for tea!

OZ 100 is an ecumenical community, which means we don't subscribe particularly to one denomination. Our kapel reflects this. It contains imagery and icons that will be familiar to Catholics, Lutherans, Eastern Orthodox and other sects. And virtually every part of the chapel is mobile, so it can be rearranged to accommodate a number of types of services.

(Incidentally, I apologize in advance for the quality of the pics. I was forced to use the flash to snap shots of the chapel, and it somewhat ruins the quiet, muted atmosphere that it actually has.)



The backdrop you see above is actually movable. The imagery on it will be familiar to Roman Catholics and Orthodox worshipers. In the case of the latter, the frame may be moved in front of our little altar to create a 'holy sanctum'.



Wooden benches line the walls, and there are stools. All are lightweight and can be easily rearranged. For ourselves, we typically sit in a circle around the room and the leader does not occupy a special place unless he or she gets up to read.



Virtually everything in the kapel has some symbolic value. This includes the floor, which spreads outward in concentric rings to include even the outside world. The pink neon lights of Cafe Rosso are right outside the doors, and in the evening service we are vividly reminded of their inclusion by the noise of the people queued up there.



I'm told the item above makes Lutherans feel at home, although it's a bit foreign to me personally.



I was surprised to learn that in addition to providing a lovely ambiance, the little stream and pool at the back of the room can be used as a baptismal. Whether you are into full or partial immersion, there are sections of the "Jordan River" that you can use for your service. The little pool just above the falls is just right for infants, and the large pool is bigger than a bathtub and can comfortably receive adults.



This is a picture of some of our worship materials. "Youth for Christ" is a popular songbook, as is Taizé (not pictured) which contains songs in virtually every language you're likely to encounter in Europe. The folder contains copies of still more songs, as well as liturgy.

Dutch service or not, many of the songs are actually in English, which is nice for me. However, I am seldom familiar with any of them.

The service concluded, we adjourn to the common room for a little gezelligheid. Time for tea coffee!