Greetings from Amsterdam!  I was just thinking about an interaction that I recently had with a young man (who shall remain nameless) here in Amsterdam.  It was a fairly normal conversation in which nothing monumental really happened.  But it occurred to me that you (as a part of our ministry team) might be interested in hearing about this spiritual sojourner—maybe even praying for him.  So I've sketched out the story of our encounter here below...

The beginnings of our conversation were rather inauspicious.  I met him after our church worship gathering, on a Sunday evening.  Tall, pale, piercing blue eyes, long dangling Euro-dreds.  It had been his first time visiting our church.  He was polite and reluctant, but when I asked directly he admitted that he didn’t really like the church service very much.  The message (on the book of Titus) was too “religious,” with not enough take-away for someone like him.  The music was too “predictable,” with chord progressions, Western tonalities, and all that kind of thing.  He was pretty nice about it, but he said it just didn’t scratch him quite where he itched.

I told him I could appreciate that.  That different people had different preferences.  No hard feelings about that, of course.  “So how did you end up coming today, then?”  I asked.  He told me his friend was playing in the band.  She had invited him to come and hear her play.

“That’s cool.  So do you have any kind of Christian background, yourself?  Or was this, like, a totally new kind of experience for you?”  It turned out that his parents were 'hard-core atheists.'  He never went to church growing up—and would say that he still had a rather limited range of experiences within Christianity to date.  However, he had become convinced of “the Supernatural” through some experiences with Goa Trance music and psychedelic drugs in his teenage years, and he had dabbled some with Buddhism, Hinduism, and other Eastern religions for a number of years.  He never really considered giving the Christian traditions much thought, in spite of (or perhaps because of) growing up in the Dutch “Bible Belt.”  But at one point, he realized that his closed-minded attitude towards Christianity was somewhat hypocritical—and if he was going to be truly “open-minded” in his spiritual quest, he might also do well to try reading some of the Bible for himself.  The only problem was that it just never really added up for him.  He liked some parts of the Bible (like the Old Testament wisdom books), but on the whole it didn’t make a lot of sense.  So he kept on experimenting with his music (playing “pretty much anything with keys”), and that was about it for his spiritual journey.

“I’m curious to hear more about your experience of the supernatural through music.  It sounds like it’s been a very helpful medium for you.  Can you describe what that sounds like?  What that feels like?” I asked—not with any sense of cynicism but with genuine curiosity and interest.  He explained that the music he knew was powerful.  Its beat pounded and pounded and filled him.  The music wrapped him up and swirled him around.  It took him to new places, emotionally and spiritually.  It made it incredibly clear that there was something bigger than himself.  It helped him to transcend his ordinary life and tap into the supernatural.  I was impressed by his explanation and by the sense of passion with which he spoke.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I know that feeling!”  I told him that I didn’t have much experience with Goa Trance music or psychedelic drugs—but that I could totally relate to that feeling of power and transcendence.  “I get the same feeling sometimes when I’m reading and studying the Bible.  I’m reading and reading, and my head is swirling.  And I’ve got all these questions that are coming into my reading of the text and coming out of the text into my own life.  And then—suddenly, the clouds clear and I can see God’s Truth standing there, plain as day.”  There was no condescension in my response; I was genuinely relating to his life experiences and contextualizing them into my own.  “Have you ever read Ecclesiastes?” I asked.  It turned out that he had indeed read it but not understood it.  To him, it had just seemed like a bunch of hopeless, impossible questions.  Kind of sad and depressing, actually, as he remembered it.

“Well, I guess I could understand that perspective,” I said.  “But I love Ecclesiastes!  It feels just like that spiritual process you just described.  There’s all this chaos and confusion—all these things that turn out to be empty and meaningless.  Riches and material wealth, women and sex, wine and pleasure, empires and international acclaim… They all just swirl you around and around.  But then, in the middle of the crazy confusion, two points of peace cut through the chaos like laser-beams.  Chapter 5 and Chapter 12.  Two small islands in the seas of uncertainty.  Places to stop and rest.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  It all clicks into place.  It all makes sense.  In Chapter 5—kind of at the mid-point of Ecclesiastes—it says, 'Stand in awe of God.'  It says to enjoy the gifts God has given us—food and drink, satisfaction in his work, and to just 'stand in awe of God.'  And then, in Chapter 12, the Teacher concludes that it's best to simply remember our Creator.  At the end of the day, when all is said and done, all the wisdom of the world can be boiled down to a simple sentence:  'Fear God and keep his commandments.'  That's what it comes down to!  It's so simple.  It's so basic.  But it's so wise.  It just feels like a beautiful resting place, in the midst of all that confusion.  It's totally tapping into that greater sense of supernatural wisdom.  I love it when that happens, as I'm reading the Bible.”  He seemed stirred by the stories of my experiences with the Bible.  He said he wanted to read Ecclesiastes again for himself.  He wanted to try seek God—the God of the Bible—again... maybe even talk about everything with me further at some point in the future.  But with a look at his watch, he realized that he had to take off.  He was late for another appointment.

I assured him that I would be glad to talk more with him.  I said it was nice to meet him (and I really meant it).  And then I prayed briefly, under my breath, asking God to guide him into all wisdom and understanding.  Days later, I heard (via the home group leader of the friend in the worship band who had invited him to church) that he had been greatly stimulated by our conversation.  That he was very open—if not eager—to come back to our church again sometime soon, even though the preaching and the music may not have been his thing...

What else is there, you might ask, to a church gathering—other than the preaching and the music?  What else could keep this young man coming back for more?  Apparently something... Apparently something.

Please keep praying for God's work in Amsterdam.  We'll be in touch.

Eric