Yesterday we received a belated Valentine's Day card in the mail, from my grandparents in North Dakota.  The handwriting on the envelope suggested that maybe one of their in-home care providers had assisted them in getting the card out in the mail -- as they're now in their late 80s -- but it was special to get a little tangible reminder of their love, in the form of that Valentine's Day card.

But even more than the card, I enjoyed the picture that they sent along with the card:  an image from a recent summer, in which my grandparents are sitting on a grassy lawn together, eating corn-dogs and drinking soft drinks bought from the midway of the county fair.  To me, it's such an iconic image of my grandparents, of the American Midwest, and of enduring love.  Every time I look at the picture, I can't help but smile.

So of course, I thought I would share it (see above).

The 14th of February happens to fall on a Sunday this year:  Valentine’s Day.  And to observe that occasion, our church has come up with an idea to host a panel of married couples -- a “Panel of Love,” if you will -- to do an open discussion about love and marriage, from a Christian, biblically-based perspective.

We’re going to have three different couples, from three different stages of life, participating in the panel:  Marci and I (married for almost 12 years), Marc and Heidi La Porte (married for 4 years), and Marco and Claudia Pauws (married for 4 months).  Anthony Dunstan will be serving as moderator for the discussion, directing the flow -- but really, the whole thing is going to be based on answering questions from the church.  We've solicited (and received) questions through a variety of different means already, but I also promised to post an electronic opening for questions here on this blog, so please feel free to leave any questions that you might want to have considered for inclusion in the discussion by our "Panel of Love."

Maybe you’ll want to ask us about sex... or arguing... or having children... or division of household responsibilities... or finding the love of your life... There are a lot of different possibilities -- but how the discussion will go all depends on the questions we receive.  The comment box is now open (and yes, it's OK if you'd prefer to ask your question anonymously)...

Today I have the privilege of officiating a wedding for two dear friends from our church here in Amsterdam.  It's going to be a lot of fun.  In addition to the special joy of taking part in a beautiful ceremony to join two beautiful people, the occasion is also special because it affords me the opportunity to preach in one of the oldest, most storied ministry venues in old Amsterdam:  The English Reformed Church in the Begijnhof.

The church building dates back over 500 years.  English Pilgrims worshipped in the same sanctuary in the early 1600s, just prior to sailing for the New World aboard the Mayflower and settling at Plymouth Colony.  And today, I will get to perform a wedding in the same space!

[P.S. - 7 February 2010 - I thought it might be cool to also include a picture from the actual occasion.  Thanks to my friend Sergei Tserasiuk for this really cool photo of the action!]

I’ve always resisted the idea of a pastor being one who simply "marries and buries."  One whose job is supposedly to perform weddings and funerals, baby dedications and hospital visitations, Christmases and Easters.  You know, that idea of the pastor being the keeper of the cultural faith, the religious master of ceremonies for certain special occasions and rites of passage... it just feels like a relic to me, something from a bygone era of "Christian" America and Europe...

I prefer to think of “ministry” in a much more holistic fashion.  It's not just about sermons and ceremonies; it's about the day-to-day grind of life.  Trying to follow Jesus in everyday existence -- simply devoting ourselves to "the apostles' teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer" (Acts 2:42).  Something that happens not just in the "Temple courts" but also from "house to house," as basic as sharing a meal together.  In this regard, I guess you could say I've attached myself to an even more traditional (pre-Constantinian) image of the pastor as being the "shepherd," just taking care of a big ol' flock of sheep day in, day out (even though this can also be really frustrating for me sometimes).  Shepherd / friend / care-taker / utility infielder...

This is, in effect, what I originally "signed up for" when I decided to go into full-time ministry.  It definitely wasn't preaching sermons or officiating ceremonies; it was just spending time with young people, talking about life over a cup of coffee, getting to know each other while taking a walk or playing basketball or that type of thing.  It was "hanging out," interacting with people in groups of 3 or 4 or 10, talking about life and love and faith and doubt.  That's where I figured real life and real ministry happened.  And for the majority of my decade in full-time ministry, that is exactly how my ministry has worked itself out.  For that matter, I think I'd be very content for it to stay that way for the rest of the time that God may keep me in this line of work.

Even so, I'm also coming to terms with the "official Christian stuff."

Over the last six months -- probably not so happenstance, considering the coincidental departure of my co-pastor who had previously played more of the official "mouthpiece" role -- the "official Christian stuff" seems like it's become more and more a part of what I'm doing.  I'm preaching more for our Sunday worship gatherings.  Last month, I performed my first wedding.  Last week, just like the church sending out missionaries in the Book of Acts, I and some others from the church prayed and laid hands on a woman from our community who's moving to Mozambique for a year-and-a-half to work for a development organization.  Later this month, we're planning a baby dedication for some dear friends who've just had their first child.  I look back on the years here in Amsterdam and realize that I've baptized dozens of people.

Over the past months, I've spent hours talking people through various ask-outs, break-ups, and general relational angst.  I've prayed with people as they've struggled to overcome addictions and offered practical help to people confined to crutches and wheelchairs.  I've represented our church at city-wide ministry functions and in small fellowships of pastors.  In short, I've been playing the classic role of the "minister."

What's surprised me is that I've not felt "relegated" to this role at all.  On the contrary, I've found joy in it!  I still believe in a more holistic vision of "ministry" that goes way beyond the sermons and ceremonies.  But I've come to see that such a view doesn't necessarily preclude participation in classic church ceremonies.  In fact, there's something beautiful in the opportunity to help maintain an awareness of God through the rites of passage which mark significant life changes:  struggling through relationships, getting married, having babies, living life.  These occasions mark a fresh opportunity to depend on God in a new area of responsibility or commitment -- and, if anything, I've found that the participants in these ceremonies are not bothered by "token religious obligations" but actually more spiritually open and pliable during such transitions.  Not to mention the fact that such events within a Christian community also typically prove to be strategic chances to interact with non-Christian friends and family as well!  No, this "official Christian stuff" is not a burden, a liability, or an occupational hazard; it's a position of honor, to help spiritually support people through unforgettable life experiences.  It's shepherding in one of its purest forms!

I've still got a lot to learn, I'm sure.  But I felt it was helpful for me to put some of these pieces together in my own mind -- to assure myself that I'm not some kind of sell-out or corporate tool.  As a third-generation minister, I can be especially self-conscious about potential misconceptions of ministry.  Yes, I'm doing a lot of the same things that my father did, before me, and his father, before him.  It's true that the hand-book for these occasions hasn't changed a whole lot in the last hundred years (note:  the images here with this post are taken from Hiscox's "Star Book for Ministers," originally published in 1878 and reprinted in 1906, originally inscribed by my grandfather).  But that doesn't mean that the "official Christian" events we celebrate are not fresh or meaningful.  They can be fresh and time-honored at the same time!

And so, I consider it a great privilege that I can continue with the work of marrying, burying, and carrying on... so help me, God. 

I thought you might like to see some pictures, after the fact, to go along with my most recent posts about my Casual and Critical Observations of Berlin and growing up as Children of the Cold War. 
I didn't bring my own camera -- but here are some pictures, taken and generously copied for me by
my friend Anthony Testa, of our time in Berlin.

The traffic lights (above) were, apparently, deliberate throwbacks to the days of East Germany's different ways of doing things.

The sculpture for remembering Berlin's victims of war and tyranny (above) was very powerful...

Not much is left of the old Berlin Wall (above) -- but still just enough for photo-tourism.

It was a good group of men, leaders from various GCE churches throughout the Continent.  We had some very fruitful discussions and had fun while doing it...  In case you're interested, there are a few extra pictures from Berlin posted in the Zolder50 Pictures section of the website.

In addition to Anthony's pictures from Berlin, I thought I would also link to some of the pictures of Marco and Claudia's wedding, taken by my friend Timo de Winter.  I had written about this Full and Complete European Wedding Experience a couple of weeks ago -- but I just noticed today that some pictures were now up on Timo's Flickr site.

A special note to the above pictures is that the bakfiets (bicycle) pictured as the "official bridal couple vehicle" was in fact our own family's everyday bakfiets!

Above, you can see some of what it looked like in the church, during my sermon...

And here to the left is one of the many beautiful shots of the beautiful couple on their special day.  I hope I'm not stealing Timo's (or Marco and Claudia's) thunder in any way, by referencing these photographs.  I just saw them "go public" earlier today and enjoyed them so much that I figured I'd pass them along...

If you want to see more images from Marco and Claudia's wedding, I would again heartily recommend a visit to Timo's Flickr site.