It was a beautiful Koninginnedag (Queen's Day) in Amsterdam today -- absolutely perfect weather and hundreds of thousands of visitors swarming the city.

This was our family's seventh celebration of Queen's Day.

The picture above shows a boy (probably about 12 or 13 years old), charging people money for the opportunity to hit him in the face with an egg (see if you can find the egg in the picture), thrown from about three or four meters away.  An unusual spectacle, yes -- but it's just one of thousands of ways that people try to make money and provide neighborhood entertainment for this national holiday.  We haggled for second-hand treasures (most of it good-natured, though we did have our annual incident with a hard-hearted Amsterdammer who seemed to take the "game" too far).  We ate Dutch festival food (which is different than festival food in America).  We walked a lot.  And then we were glad when we finally got to step out of the mayhem and enjoy some peace and quiet again.

Even though I've experienced Koninginnedag so many times now, I'm still impressed by the scale and intensity of Amsterdam's celebrations.  It seriously feels like one big, rowdy, out-of-control street party -- not just for the length of a block or two, but for block after block after block of the city center.  My respect for Koninginnedag, has remained constant -- but I'd say it has definitely changed throughout the years.

The first year you experience Koninginnedag in Amsterdam, it's such a shock to the system that you're simply astounded -- realizing that all the stories have been true, if not a bit understated... The second time you get to experience Koninginnedag, you are caught up into the frenzy, planning out meticulous (if not overly ambitious) plans to start the day in the Jordaan, then check out the Vondelpark, then walk through the Leidseplein, and then make your way over to Museumplein for the huge outdoor concert... By the third Koninginnedag, you're adjusting your expectations a bit -- just focusing on hitting the parts of the celebration that are your personal favorites... By the fourth year, you decide to try something new, perhaps something closer to home... And by the fifth and sixth years, you only feel the need to go out and get a little taste of the actual celebrations (perhaps getting back home by lunchtime or so) -- contenting yourself to supplement the experience with watching some televised coverage of the royal family's observance of Koninginnedag and enjoying more of a day of rest.

And then, apparently, for your seventh Koninginnedag, you end up heading back into the Jordaan (where the craziest Koninginnedag stuff always happens) in order to spend one last Queen's Day with dear friends before they move back to the United States on the following day.  Yes, today we braved the crowds again (the bike ride home was quite interesting!) because it was our last day in Amsterdam with the Watkins family.  They fly out tomorrow, and so today was the last of the good-byes.  So it was kind of a bittesweet day... but a good day.

Our friends definitely went out with a bang.

It's been awhile since I last posted about our ongoing kitchen remodeling project.  So I figured I'd provide another update (since it turns out that other people have more of an interest in these kinds of things than what I had first imagined)...

After the first day's dramatic demolition by the contractors, visual progress was not as speedy or significant (thus the lack of updates).  They had to run new electric and plumbing elements through the floors and ceilings...

Then they had to build new floors, ceilings, and walls (like the one below, which closed off what used to be the hallway running through the middle of the apartment, thus increasing the size of Cor's room)...

They also created custom built-in spaces for the water heater (which happens to be the European, tankless style), the oven cabinets, and an extra little tall closet...

And then finally, yesterday, the whole room was plastered, for the contractors' finishing touches...

The electrician still needs to come back and finish his work (installing a new central fuse box which also adds three new groups and building out the outlets and switch boxes that he had installed prior to plasterwork being completed), and there's also a minor plumbing issue that needs to be resolved before we can install the kitchen -- but the contractors' work is mostly finished at this point.

Today, we'll be hauling our kitchen out of storage (plus having a few of the new pieces of the kitchen delivered).  Then, after allowing the plaster to cure, we can get busy with painting, kitchen installation, tiling the floor, and tiling the back-splash.

Even though the contractors are now finished (thankfully ahead of schedule and under budget!), there's still a rather-intimidating amount of work left to be completed.  But we're getting there!

I think that the book of Ecclesiastes has to be one of my favorite books of the Bible.  I love the stark simplicity of its message.  I love its balance.  I love the way it's so grounded in reality.  Its straightforwardness is refreshing.  Delightful.  The book reads so differently from the way so many believers seem to think and feel and act -- avoiding those classic blunders of being trite, having pat answers for everything, trying too hard to "keep on the sunny side" of life, and creating elaborate dichotomies of gleaming white and midnight black.  Ecclesiastes just comes across as remarkably wise to me.  I still can't completely understand all of it.  But that's much of what makes the book so wonderful!

I was reading through Ecclesiastes chapter 7 recently, and I felt like I need to go ahead and memorize the whole thing!  There's so much wisdom there -- but verse 18 stands out to me in a special way (as it has for some time):

"It is good to grasp the one and not let go of the other.  The man who fears God will avoid all extremes."

This resonates deep within me.  Why can't more people see this, appreciate this, believe this, and live this?!?  So many believers are set on establishing their elaborate dichotomies:  pleasure versus piety... God versus science... "mass production church" versus "individualistic boutique spirituality"... Calvinism versus Arminianism... all that kind of stuff.  But here's Solomon -- the wisest of the wise, author of multiple books fo the Bible -- suggesting something else:  It's good to grasp the one and not let go of the other!

This is how we can reconcile Jesus's divinity with his humanity.  This is how we can acknowledge God's sovereignty in everything, while still allowing for the truths suggested in the Bible that we do have choices to make and parts to play in praying, ministering, teaching, making disciples.  This is how we keep ourselves from setting ourselves up as little know-it-all demi-gods.  Avoiding these all-too-typical extremes is one of the marks of the man who fears God.

Marci and I -- two grown adults, mind you -- just spent over an hour trying re-route the wiring for a simple doorbell in our dining room.  After much fineagling, we finally got everything to work out all right.  But as we worked, I had a thought which has recurred to me multiple times over the last several years -- and especially the last couple of weeks (as contractors have been working on our house):

I should have been an electrician.

Seriously, I look back on the educational and vocational choices that I've made throughout my life -- and while I can't say that I've had any serious regrets -- I do really wonder if I could somehow magically have the chance to travel back in time and offer a bit of career counseling to the 17-year-old version of myself, what would I advise him (myself) to consider?  And I honestly believe that a career as an electrician might have been a good way to go (the idea of a career as a plumber or a mechanic might have been something else to consider -- though these fields can be more messy).

I mean, think about it.  Electricians are always in demand (there's so few aspects of civilization that don't depend on electricity in some shape or form).  They start their work day early and end early (which is how I like to do things, too).  They make decent money.  They get to work with their hands -- but it's not nearly as physically grueling as general contract work, or carpentry, or other related fields.  Electricians get to do a healthy amount of problem-solving -- so that it's not just mindless physical labor.  And while they often get to work on a job site with a crew of other various construction workers, they also kind of get to work on their own.  And if/when his job is done well, an electrician comes off looking like a magician.  A switch is thrown in one part of the room, and light, sound, and/or motion is created in a completely different place!  It's really quite incredible, if you think about it...

I don't know... I'm sure I'm idealizing the job of an electrician to some extent.  But at the very least, some practical skills like that sure would have come in handy this afternoon as we tried to get that darn doorbell installed!

Do you see anything special about the picture above (taken with a camera phone)?  Look closely in the background (as in the zoomed-in image below)...

Do you see it?  Can you see the miracle of recyclable fashion trends?  It's happening... It's really happening!

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the mullet is making a comeback.  And believe it or not, this is not just an isolated sighting.  I've noticed that the famous late-1980s / early-1990s hairstyle has become quite popular among Morroccan teenage boys in Amsterdam (not dissimilar to the urban African-American subculture that helps to pioneer many of the "street-trends" in North America).

Look out, world!  Here comes the mullet (again)!

I am convinced that the loveliest month of the year in Amsterdam is April.

We all look for excuses to sit outside as often as we can (even for staff meetings!).

These are a few random images (and associated stories) from the past weekend...

Here on the left, you can see a picture of Elliot's growing collection of pill bugs.  He's taken it upon himself to clean out as many of these insects as possible from the little "backyard" area at the H88 -- and as of the end of this weekend, I think he's collected 35 of them!  Now he's keeping them in a jar at our house ("since we don't have any other pets," he says).

I always grew up calling them "pill bugs" (I guess because they roll up into little balls that look like pills).  But I've heard other people call them "roly poly bugs" or "roly-polies."  So we looked it up on line -- and it turns out that both terms are acceptable (depends on regional preferences).  Their proper name is Armadillidiidae (in case you really wanted to know).

I also think it's very amusing to note that the Dutch word for these insects is Pissebedden -- which, according to my imaginative English literal translation, could be understood as "Bed-wetters!" (pisse- means, well, basically the same thing that the word means in English, if you catch my meaning -- and bedden- means beds).  Funny, huh?

But anyway -- all you really need to know is that the H88 now doesn't have very many of these little guys... But our house does.  :-)

*     *     *     *     *

Then, below you can see a picture of an unusual rescue operation here in our neighborhood of Amsterdam.  I had heard of such situations previously -- but I'd never witnessed it with my own eyes until now:  a woman on a stretcher being lowered by Fire-truck from her apartment to street level, where the Ambulance can load her up and take her to the hospital.

The stairwells of Amsterdam apartments are so narrow, I suppose, that this is really the only way to get someone extracated from an upper-level apartment while remaining in a (mostly) horizontal position.  It makes sense, I guess.  But it's still quite the curiosity to see it.

And finally, here's a picture of our very own Cor William Asp -- learning to feed himself oatmeal with a spoon.  He's still not the most efficient spoon-user, but he's getting better.  And at least he's having fun in the process!

It's been a good weekend -- but an emotionally exhausting one.

For the past three days, our church has organized a series of special events to remember and celebrate the "Watkins Years" of Zolder50.  Singing and dancing, gifts and stories, feasting and praying -- it's the way friends should be sent off.  But it certainly does take its toll, emotionally.

We're really going to miss Todd, Lindy, Amelie, and Gabrian.  They've invested a lot in our lives and in the ministry of Zolder50 over the last seven years or so.  Todd and I took on the task of leadership together, when our church's founder unexpectedly left Amsterdam, and we've been through quite a lot together in the years since then.  We were ordained as pastors together in 2006 -- and if it were up to me, we'd be working together for many years to come.  But I also understand that the time has come for them to move on, for the sake of their family.

I'll be interested to see what becomes of them -- and of us -- from this point, forward.

As a part of the weekend festivities, I dusted off my old video editing skills and put together a photographic presentation of the better part of the last decade -- including pictures from the initial exploratory trip to Amsterdam in 2001, pictures from our recent trip to Croatia together with our two families, and quite a bit of stuff in between.  And since there are a good number of other people who may visit this website, and who know the Watkins family in one way or another, but who may not be around Amsterdam these days to get to see the photographic retrospective in one of our public viewings, I figured I'd post it here as well.  I hope you enjoy it...

Remembering the Watkins Years in Amsterdam from Eric Asp on Vimeo.

I've been experimenting with a new look over the last couple of weeks.  I shaved my head (again) and grew out a goatee.  The beard has come in with quite a bit of gray (especially on the sides of my chin) -- but overall, the effect has been better than what I might have expected.  Even so, I now find myself at a decision point.  Do I keep the beard as it is?  Do I adapt it slightly?  Or do I get rid of it entirely?

Someone suggested that I put the matter to an internet vote.

So using my webcam and the most rudimentary of Photoshop painting skills -- I created four possibilities for managing my facial hair (one of which, I should note, I am not willing to do, but I'm still including the possibility for the fun of it).  What do you think?  I've created a poll below that allows you to answer immediately and anonymously.

I've recently been hearing and talking and learning about a fascinating movement of churches operating around the world today.  They're not a very large body of believers, but they're very committed and (some would say) very radical.  And with all the discusssions of "missiology" and "church-planting" in which I typically get to participate -- because of my line of work -- I can hardly keep myself from wondering what we might be able to learn from this movement, as we try to "do church" in Amsterdam.

Their leadership structure, for one thing, is highly intriguing for a ministry setting like ours.  They do not typically pay their church leaders -- and, in fact, they do as much as possible to break down the traditional "clergy-laity" distinction (that is, the typical Western concept of the "paid professional" leader).  Their philosophy is that every member of the congregation must be equally invested.  In effect, they live by the proverbial saying: "many hands make light work."  And though this way of doing ministry may have its disadvantages, you've got to wonder if it could have some significant advantages in a church community like ours -- made up primarily of students, migrants, and transients, who are low on finances but high on idealism.

Furthermore, as a result of the movement's philosophy of leadership, their worship gatherings also have some intriguing distinctions.  Perhaps most significantly, there is no "sermon" (at least not as we know it: i.e. the 45-minute didactic monologue by the aforementioned "paid professional").  Instead, the gathering starts with someone (it can be a different person each week) reading a section from the Bible and then sitting back down to reflect in silence, along with the rest of the congregation. Everyone sits in a circle -- not in rows facing one particular direction, like most church (or other public performance) venues -- and the emphasis and expectation is that each and every participant will be listening to what God is saying to him or her, personally.  And then, as the Spirit leads, one or two (or ten) people may (or may not) take turns sharing something that has been impressed on their hearts from the passage of scripture that had been read aloud.  In essence, they decide to let the Bible be their teacher, and they let the Holy Spirit be their worship leader.  Perhaps it may sound a bit too fluid and "post-modern" for some -- but again, I genuinely wonder if this could be something useful for the decide-for-yourself, authority-averse, polder model society of the Netherlands today...

Also, another interesting thing about this movement is that the churches do not typically gather in "church buildings" -- but rather in people's homes.  In many instances, they don't even have one particular house set as the church location -- but rather they roam from house-to-house (depending on the week of the month).  The underlying principle, of course, is that no one space is more sacred than another.  Rather, "the church" is simply the people of God gathered together -- wherever that may be.  And while most Christians would probably believe this to some extent, it's significant to note how these people live it out in their day-to-day, week-to-week, and month-to-month rhythms of life and ministry.

And apart from the question of how they organize themselves as a body of believers -- or a movement of churches -- they also have an interesting view of their involvement with society at large.  Members of the movement tend to shun materialism.  They celebrate simple living, trying to break down class distinctions.  They favor Fair Trade, and diligently oppose the systems of the world which lead to oppression of the poor and slavery.  And they're almost entirely non-violent and pacifistic.  In effect, they live by a lot of the values that seem to mark today's younger generations.Yet (this is perhaps the most intriguing aspect of the movement for me) in spite of their innovative and "post-modern" way of doing things, the movement's vocabulary does not include many of the popular buzz-words of today's evangelical Christianity:  words like "missional" or "organic" -- "emerging/emergent" or "anti-hierarchical."  They are not widely celebrated in print (through current magazines and book publications), nor is information about them (and especially not from them) widely circulated on the internet.

And that is probably because this movement is composed of people known as the Quakers, the Orthodox Mennonites, and the Brethren.  For the sake of illustration, I've created something of an amalgamated "movement" out of these three traditional denominations -- but actually, any one of the three bears quite a bit of similarity to the amalgam movement described above.  The roots of these denominations go back to the 16th and 17th Centuries -- and many would consider these streams of the Christian faith to be some of the most antiquated and "out-of-touch" with contemporary society.  Yet for centuries, they have practiced and preached the very concepts that are filling the pages of today's best-selling books on church planting, "post-modern ministry," and Christian living.

What is my objective in pointing all of this out?  I could see that it might come across as being a little bit cynical.  And perhaps there is some sense of cynicism -- not so much for the concepts themselves (because I can actually see a lot of value in both the old and "new" forms of anti-hierarchical, non-didactic, decentralized, social-activist models for ministry!), but for those who package them in such a way that it seems like "Hey, we've finally 'cracked the code' and unlocked the secret to doing ministry just like Jesus and the Apostles did -- in a way that can totally relate to today's post-modern, post-Christian culture like nothing ever before!"  Yet more than anything, I think it's just useful to keep the cycles of history in perspective.  To keep ourselves balanced and humble in our opinions.  To remember King Solomon's wisdom bringing us back to the fact that "History merely repeats itself. It has all been done before. Nothing under the sun is truly new."

I really don't know how much others notice or care about these things -- but I will go ahead and offer the perfunctory apology for not having updated this space much over the past couple of weeks. :-)

The reason I haven't been blogging much is that our family was traveling for a little more than a week, and then immediately upon our return we were jolted into construction-preparation mode -- getting our house ready for contractors coming in to help with the renovation our home's kitchen and dining area (not to mention celebrating Easter and preparing the message for our big Zolder50 worship gathering to mark the day!).  The contractors arrived this morning, bright-and-early at 7:15.  And by one o'clock in the afternoon, they had completed the heavy-duty demolition work, taking out an additional two (brick) walls in the kitchen and Cor's bedroom.

I was seriously amazed by how much they could accomplish in one day's work.  It seriously felt like living in a hurricane.  We knew that it was the right season, since we (and by we, I especially mean Marci!) have been preparing for this occasion for at least eight months now.  And we had even gotten reports that it was going to happen this particular week -- so we had a good amount of time to "batten down the hatches" and prepare the house (and ourselves) for the onslaught.  But even so, it was hard to imagine the speed and scope of their work.  Everything went remarkably smoothly -- but it was a crazy, very adventurous day for our family (especially since we had not realized that Elliot's and Olivia's school was out of session for a teacher's inservice day!).

Again, I'm not sure how much anyone else would like to look at pictures from our ongoing renovation project (to be honest, I couldn't see myself having that passionate of an interest in someone else's home improvement projects, except as they relate to educating me for my own home improvement projects) -- but since it's my website, I'm going to go ahead and post the before and after pictures anyway! :-)

First, here are some pictures from yesterday evening, showing our dining room, which is also doubling as our temporary kitchen -- with plastic sheeting to prepare for construction dust.

And these were the walls that were slated for demolition...

And here is a picture of the work crew tearing out the wall that had previously separated Cor's bedroom from the hallway (the main kitchen wall had already been removed by this point -- but we were too overwhelmed with the chaos to get any pictures of that).

And here are some pictures from the end of Day One.

It's especially cool to compare the above picture with the ones that we took three weeks ago, when we were removing the first wall of the dining room ourselves.  You can see that it's opened up quite a bit.

And here below is what's left of our kitchen, hallway, and the constraining wall of Cor's bedroom.

I grew up in a Christian, church-going family—where Christmas and Easter were especially important occasions to celebrate in the church.  And with those two holidays, I liked Christmas a lot (even the church parts of it).  But to be honest, I always thought Easter was kind of a lame holiday.  To me, it meant that my Mom would take me and my brother and my sister to the store to get some new “dress clothes,” which were typically some kind of pastel-colored shirt with a button-up collar that felt really uncomfortable.  And then, on Easter morning, we would get up at the crack of dawn to go to church for the annual “Sunrise Service” (which, I think, started at something like 7:00 or 7:30 in the morning).  Following the “Sunrise Service,” we’d all go down to the church’s basement and have a potluck breakfast where, invariably, the main food option would be 5 different kinds of breakfast casseroles (which taste about as good as they sound).  There were, of course, the chocolate eggs and the Easter candy  -- which were nice and everything... but not really nice enough to take away from the fact that Easter was pretty lame (at least from my perspective as a kid).

And to be completely honest (though I’m worried that I shouldn’t be admitting this, as one who is a pastor), Easter can still feel a bit lame sometimes.  Do a search on Google Images for “Easter,” and you know what you come up with? All bunnies and eggs and crosses at sunrise.  All very pastel pink and blue and fluffy-soft.  Even if you refine the search to look for Christian images of the original Easter (like “empty tomb” or “Jesus’ resurrection”), you get all these crappy “Hallmark” images of lilies and doves and golden sunshine pouring through a kind of cave, with a little white cloth elegantly draped over a stone bench.  And again, everything is in pastel colors with kind of a Gaussian blur-haze about it…

I don't think I'm alone in this.  I'm guessing that it’s hard for a lot of us to really be able to connect with the radical significance of Easter...

I was reading my Bible recently, and I was struck by how much we have to learn from Peter’s understanding of the significance of Jesus’ resurrection.  He’s a great example to us in a lot of ways, but I think it’s especially useful to study his reaction to the resurrection (as recorded in John 20:1-10).  Can you imagine what it would have been like to be in Peter's situation on that Sunday morning, way back when?  His friend / spiritual leader / teacher / mentor / father-figure (perhaps) had been publicly humiliated and executed in the great, holy city of Jerusalem -- just three days previously.  Peter had done his best to defend Jesus’ honor in the hours leading up to those events.  He had sworn a thousand oaths in the Upper Room, promising to defend Jesus to the death (though Jesus himself told him he wasn’t going to be able to back up that promise).  He had packed along a couple of swords when they left the Upper Room, perhaps anticipating a bit of action based on some of the things Jesus had been saying that night.  He had put up a bit of resistance, defending Jesus with the sword, when the mob came to arrest Jesus and bring him to trial.  But in the end, the pressure proved too great.  When Peter’s back was against the wall, he completely disavowed any relationship between him and Jesus.  He consciously and deliberately says -- not once, not twice, but three times -- that he doesn't know anything about “that Jesus guy,” that they are in no way connected, that they are complete strangers.  And after he finally realized what a coward he had become, he broke down and wept bitterly.  As far as we can tell, Peter didn’t even make it to the scene of the crucifixion.  His friend / spiritual leader / teacher / mentor / father-figure was dying on a cross, spending his last hours in emotional and physical agony... But Peter had tanked so miserably -- and been spooked so completely -- that he missed it all.

So think about that Sunday morning where, just three days previously, Jesus had died.  He had been completely brutalized, and put through the most horrifying means of public execution that existed in Roman society.  He had been embalmed and buried and sealed away in his tomb for the weekend.  The emotional reality of it all was probably just starting to set in.  A profound emptiness and sense of loss…

But then it appeared that maybe, just maybe, on this Sunday morning, Jesus had come back to life!  This rumor comes to Peter and his friends from a bunch of hysterical women, while he’s there in the midst of his grief and emptiness (Can you imagine -- really imagine -- what that would have felt like?!?!).  A resurrection (or even the vague idea of a possible resurrection) of Jesus would have been a really, really, really big deal to Peter.  It was not an occasion for dressing up in some nice pastel-colored “church clothes,” singing some nice hymns at the crack of dawn, and eating some nice breakfast casseroles.  It wasn't simply an “important Christian holiday,” or an opportunity to sleep in, or enjoy the springtime weather, or eat some special Easter candy and chocolates.  Peter went from the depth of despair to the heights of hope and ecstasy in the course of one, short conversation with Mary Magdalene.

And just like you probably would, if you were in his situation, Peter went crazy to think about the implications of Jesus’ resurrection.  There were flashes of denial and disbelief -- but there was also this wild hope and desperate curiosity to find out if it was really true.  He set off at a moment’s notice in a dead sprint from the place where he was staying to the cemetery.  It’s funny to see how it says in John 20:3-4 that both Peter and John set out immediately, running to the tomb to see... but the text also shows how John outran Peter and got there first.  Now, I can’t really back this assumption up with the Bible, but I can kind of read between the lines here -- judging from other Biblical descriptions of Peter’s and John’s personalities -- and it seems to me like Peter may have burst out ahead of John in a complete sprint, running as hard as he possibly could... but then (I’m guessing), he ran out of gas and crashed.  You know what I mean?  Peter may not have had the best strategy for distance running.  It would have been pretty far from where they were staying in Jerusalem to where Jesus had been buried, outside the city -- likely over a kilometer away, running over hilly terrain the whole way.  So then John, who may have been running at a more measured pace, like an experienced distance runner, was able to get to the tomb first.  He may have even passed Peter as he sat by the side of the road, totally winded, half passed-out.  And then only after Peter caught his breath was he able to get back on his feet and finish the run to the cemetery where Jesus had been buried.  Again that’s just conjecture -- but we do know that John got there first, and it says that he “stooped and looked in and saw the linen cloth lying there, but he didn’t go in…”  But when Peter burst on the scene -- even though he was probably completely out of breath and red-faced -- it says that he “arrived and went inside.”  He exercised no caution, no care.  He just burst right in because he was so excited.

Peter realized that the resurrection was an occasion for celebration with absolute reckless abandon.

Awhile later (in John 21), this sense of reckless abandon is reiterated -- and even extended.  Peter is out fishing with his buddies, not having much luck. But then, Jesus calls out to him from the shore with some angling advice. And at the moment of recognition, what does Peter do?  He doesn’t “turn the ship around at once and head straight back to shore...”  He doesn't wait to see what the other six guys were going to do... He “put on his tunic and jumped into the water, and headed to shore.”  Once again, he realizes the incredible miracle of having Jesus back with him in Galilee -- real, living, in-the-flesh -- and he’s so moved by it that he can’t contain his excitement.  He can’t even think straight, forgetting that there were other people in the boat who would have been more than capable of bringing his tunic back to shore along with the rest of the boat (with the extra advantage of being able to keep it dry!).  He’s so eager to be with Jesus again that he just dives in and swims to shore.

Peter understood what the resurrection meant for him.  It meant a second chance at life.  It meant that he didn’t have to just grieve his failures for the rest of his life (the denial at the Temple courts, the absence at the crucifixion, etc.).  It meant that he could overcome his failures and misunderstandings and embrace the true vision of the Messiah, from that point forward.  It meant a new opportunity to follow Jesus with all his heart, all his mind, all his soul, and all his strength.

And ultimately, this is the true significance of Easter.  We have the same opportunity to start over… to be with Jesus… to follow him with all our hearts…  All of us have made mistakes.  We’ve all denied Jesus with our words and with our actions.  We’ve all separated ourselves from him by our fear, our insecurity, our pride, our stubbornness, and the social pressures around us.  Just like Peter did.  And yet Jesus’ resurrection gives us a second chance.  We can choose for ourselves if we want to persist in our patterns of denial and self-centeredness.  Or we can choose to take the second chance that’s being offered to us -- so we can start all over again with a clean slate before God and before ourselves.

And if we get that, we should be jumping at the opportunity to do so -- running or swimming or whatever -- to be with Jesus.

But after we’ve reached that point, coming to the feet of Jesus dripping wet and out of breath, like Peter, we’ve got another decision to make.  Our emotions can get us to a certain point (out of the city and into the empty tomb… or out of the boat and onto the shore).  But just like Peter, our emotions also need to be translated into conscious thought and action.  After we read about Peter’s 100-meter freestyle swim to the shore, there’s a conversation between Jesus and Peter that shows the need for this conscious decision, following up on the thrill of the moment.  They’ve eaten some breakfast, but it’s still a short enough time afterwards that Peter’s clothes are still drying out in the morning sunlight.  Peter is sitting on the beach with his beloved Jesus again.  But there was still some unfinished business:  words that needed to be spoken, following up on the miserable failure from just a few days previously. Peter had denied Jesus three times… Here he has a chance to reaffirm his love for Jesus three times.

But after Peter gets a chance to declare his love and devotion to his master and friend, Jesus says, “Feed my lambs… Take care of my sheep… Feed my sheep.”  He tells him to harness his energy, his passion, his love, his sense of reckless abandon -- not just to secure his own notoriety or security -- but to help other people.  But Jesus doesn’t sugar-coat it.  He doesn’t say it’s going to be some great philanthropic effort that’s going to really make you feel good about yourself.  In fact, he indicates that it’s going to be hard at times.  He says that it may lead to pain and even death.  But through everything, he can continue to follow Jesus.

So what did Peter do with this challenge?  He took it to heart.  He followed through.  He continued to celebrate Jesus' resurrection with reckless abandon, trying to spread the word for others to hear as much as possible, for the rest of his life.  In the Book of Acts, we see Peter taking the lead role in the early church -- boldly and fearlessly telling everyone about what he had witnessed.  And even at the end of his life, when he was an old man, before his own brutal death at the hands of the Romans... he continued to celebrate the resurrection with reckless abandon.  Decades after the kilometer-sprint to the empty tomb and the 100-meter tunic freestyle to the beach, Peter was living by the deep appreciation for the second chance that he had to follow Jesus.  He was still living “with great expectation.”  And what’s more, he was still telling other people -- living up to the challenge that Jesus had given him that day on the beach.  He was still witnessing to the resurrection of Jesus and showing no signs that he would ever let up (at least, according to what he wrote in 2 Peter 1:12-16):

2 Peter 1:12-16 - Therefore, I will always remind you about these things—even though you already know them and are standing firm in the truth you have been taught. And it is only right that I should keep on reminding you as long as I live. For our Lord Jesus Christ has shown me that I must soon leave this earthly life, so I will work hard to make sure you always remember these things after I am gone. For we were not making up clever stories when we told you about the powerful coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. We saw his majestic splendor with our own eyes.

So I would just encourage you to really try to reflect on the true signficance of Easter this year -- not just with pastel-colored “dress-up clothes” or breakfast casseroles (or even with words and songs and food) -- but with actions really demonstrating our own sense of reckless abandon in our response to the resurrection.

This is the reason why I haven't posted anything for a few days.

There's also a few more pictures you could view in the Family Pictures section of the website. 

Amsterdam is an elaborate labyrinth.  You can live in the city for years and years -- even taking time to deliberately explore new neighborhoods and seek out some of the out-of-the-way places -- but then you'll be going about your business someday and find some secret passageway, very close to the proverbial "beaten path," that will lead you into a new discovery of the city.

Today I had just such an experience discovering the Biana Castafioreplein.

The elaborately-named, though diminuitively-executed, Bianca Castafioreplein is right in the middle of the old city center, in the shadow of the Zuiderkerktoren (South Church Tower) -- within the triangle formed by the Waterlooplein, the Nieuwmarkt, and the Dam.  And even though it's right in the heart of the city, it feels like a quaint little neighborhood in some lovely Dutch village.  Children play soccer down the middle of the street, and the sounds of bicycles, cars, taxis, buses, trams, and trains are completely muted by the surrounding canyons of brick and concrete.  It's a lovely little place.

But there is one thing rather unsettling about the Bianca Castafioreplein.  There's a fiberglass dinosaur sitting in the middle of the little courtyard -- intended to be something of a playground for the kids of the neighborhood, presumably.  And while the dinosaur itself is only mildly unusual -- what's really strange is the placement of the slide, in relation to the dinosaur's anatomy.

I'm sure the designer of the slide would say, "Aw, c'mon.  It's his tail, for crying out loud!"  But if I look at the relative positioning of the dinosaur's hind-quarters (raised above the level of the slide), then I would say it looks more like the slide runs smack down the middle of the... well... er, the um... the butt crack.

Wouldn't you agree?

Even so, my friend Marco decided to give the slide a try.  And he said it was pretty fun (can't you just see by the expression on his face, in the picture below?).

So all in all, I'd have to say that our discovery of the Bianca Castafioreplein was a delightful surprise.

 

Dear Grandma,

Life has been interesting as usual here in Amsterdam. 
I'm starting to feel a bit more of the weight of Todd (my co-pastor)
leaving at the end of April.  To me, it feels like there are more
expectations heaped on me and more criticisms aimed at me (because "Eric"
works differently than "Todd and Eric" from the past several years).  I
know that this is just a part of leadership transition and the work of
pastoring a church -- but I'm definitely feeling the effects these
days.  I try to continue seeking God for renewal and energy to face
each day.  But if you would keep praying for me (as I know you've
already been doing), I would really appreciate it...

 

Eric

 

 

Dear Eric,
 
In your last e-mail you sound like a pastor.  This comes from experience over the years.  When you get into leadership you are bound to encounter such in our fallen world.  You will come thru it!  I will pray for you about these details...

Love,  Grandma