From Vikar Jakob’s Study - January 2025
Advent is the time of patient waiting. That patience can be harder to come by in some times more than others. For me, once again, I wait for my visa to come through, as I did two years ealier, this time for the extension of said visa, to be precise. My life as a vikar and pastor to Peace Church has always been both precarious and abundant, and as you read through my reflections, I would assume you will find echoes of your own story or current situation in my words.
My stay here has been precarious and abundant emotionally. Being away from those closest to me, those we call so casually “loved ones” has been a challenge, but at the same time not greatly. I’ve become used to start over someplace else, I’ve done so in Jerusalem, in Rome, in my last parish, out on the Polish border. One of my favorite saints is St. Christopher, the patron of sojourners. My road has been as mch lonely as it has been filled with incredible experiences and encounters. There is always a blessing in staying, and there is always a blessing in moving on. Sometimes relationships – just like dreams – break along the way, sometimes they can heal, other times they get lost in the sands of time, or are deferred to a distant future and distant shores. Sometimes only God will judge and reconcile between those that were unable to find understanding of each other – respect for each other. But an abundance I have found as well: openness to story, to vulnerability, to joy. All this in the faces I see at church, all of us together an ever-changing kaleidoscope.
My stay here has been precarious and abundant socially and culturally. The political context that surrounds us and the Biblical demand, the prophetic word that is so dear to me, rarely align, which is why the prophetic word exists. It does not describe a present, nor does it describe only what is beyond. It holds us accountable. We will not find meaning, unless we find a way to commit to living out that prophetic word in all the ways that it calls out our shortcomings. It strengthens us in seeing and naming the injustice we see in others, it just as well embraces us enough to see our own failures. We cannot decide for others, but we can make amends for our part and pray that others do the same in the chambers of their heart. The rest lies with God. Again, it is hard to trust, and hard to wait, and yet the superiority of God’s narrative over the affairs of mortals on our little planet is something to find comfort in. It’s not all about us. Thank God.
My stay here has been precarious and abundant financially and legally. There is something to be said about taxes, and only when you struggle with those, you get to find out that Jesus actually talks a whole lot about them. All our struggles draw us closer to trust and to hope, they strip us bare of our certainties, our convenience, our cheap comforts and all the other things that life can take away so easily, leaving us startled and afraid, left with that – excuse me – stupid question: “why me?” Why the heck not? Life gets to all of us eventually, there’s your only justice. We will all be afraid. “I am not afraid!” exclaims the young Skywalker defiantly, but Yoda, with foreboding wisdom in his voice, answers, “You will be! You will be.” And yet, what do we westerners know of survival? There’s still enough for most of us to have a hot chocolate and turn up the heating. We are spoiled. In gamer terms, we are playing life on easy difficulty. Isn’t it strange that those who struggle the least with survival struggle the most with meaning? Again, when all our illusions peel away, we realize that on the other side of that lonesome bridge is only God to help us over, but fear not. He shall. That is all the good news.
My stay here has been precarious and abundant professionally. In a weird spot between fully trained and still learning, thoroughly examined by the Germans (God help us), and yet a beginner in UCC lands, I got to see my shortcomings and my strengths throughout every part of ministry. I give thanks for a congregation willing to bear with me, and I hope you are assured that I keep working on all those parts where I missed the mark so far.
By the time you read this, Advent and Christmas may be over, and a new year started. It is a time of year where I feel mulmig, one of those quirky German words I find hard to translate. My trusty dictionary gives me “queasy” or “crumbly” but that’s hardly capturing it. You feel mulmig in your stomach, you feel it when you peer down from great heights, your belly and your body telling you to not lean over too far. As we go into this new year, we might heed that warning to not look too far with our fears and questions, lest we fall. We will get there step by step, the strong arms of our God ready to support us, to lift us up, when we falter. May His peace always surround you, may it be a light in dark places when all other lights go out.
And may God bless you, always.
Pastor Jakob