05.25.09

Being the Outsider

Posted in Ancona, culture at 4:00 am

A couple nights ago the class representative for our oldest’s class organized an end-of-the-year dinner. It was your typical Italian feast with all of the courses (appetizer, two pastas, grilled meats, salad, dessert, and coffee). As we were all sitting down, someone had the idea to separate the guys and the girls. We took up the entire outside area of the restaurant. The kids were on one side. Dads in the middle. Moms on the other side.

As we’re sitting there chatting I just sort of sat there for a bit and listened to the other dads talk. The mayor of Ancona recently resigned (in scandal, of course) and they were talking about the nine candidates who were running. And of those nine, many were people they had all gone to school with. They started telling stories about so-and-so who used to ride on the hood of cars going down country roads. Or the other guy who they all said was destined to be in politics (not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult).

All of the sudden it hit me. Most of these guys have known each other since they were kids. They went to elementary school together. They’ve watched each other grow up and get married and have kids. And here I am, the American protestant pastor trying to insert myself into a community that has been around for forty years! There are a couple of dads in particular who try and pull me into the circle, but for the most part I’m an outsider.

I don’t say this to start a pity party. But it does bring a little prespective. How many class dinners do I go to before I can tell stories about so-and-so? Am I going to stick around long enough to get drawn in?

05.21.09

Life Out in the Open

Posted in culture at 7:51 am

The temperature has suddenly spiked here in Ancona. For the first time in many months, the house is getting a little stuffy at night. We open the windows to get a little fresh air.

Life in an apartment is full of little noises that remind you that you’re not alone. Noises like the woman upstairs whose high heels click on each stair just after lunch on her way back to work. The sound of a toilet flushing. The garage door opening or closing, or the slam of the front door when someone comes home.

But now that the windows are open, the noises are much louder. We can hear TVs at night and the clink of dishes after dinner. Neighbors walk out to say hello when they hear you on the balcony hanging laundry. Loud motorcycles going down the street make it hard to hear the TV. At first we feel like we have to keep the kids quiet all the time so that no one hears us. But then you realize no one else is making an effort to hide. It’s just how life is.

It’s a little unnerving at first. But after a while you stop noticing the noises and everything blends back into the background. It’s only when the windows first get opened that you realize you’re not alone.

05.16.09

A Blessing or a Curse?

Posted in family, kids, parenting at 2:27 am

I know this blog is normally about ministry things, but I wanted to change focus a bit and ask for some parenting advice.

A couple of weeks ago my kids were playing at a park just down the street from our house. We let them go there all the time by themselves. It’s nice to have someplace for the kids to get out their wiggles. Our oldest daughter comes running back and tells us that she found €89 ($114) in some long grass by a tree at the park. I couldn’t believe it.

At first I was hesitant to let the kids spend it. I thought briefly about contacting some of our neighbors to see if anyone lost money, but there are easily 100 apartments surrounding the park. We were headed to the city fair that night, so I just shrugged my shoulders and said to my daughter that she could keep it.

That’s when the trouble started. Apparently she had told her brothers that she wanted to split the money with them. She found it, but they were all there playing. But when it came time to actually giving the money away, she choked and told the boys never mind. I sat her down in the middle of the fair and told her that it absolutely was her money. Finders keepers. But she told the boys something that they were counting on and were already excited about. And I told her she needed to decide right then and there what she was going to do and then stand by her decision. She really struggled and finally split the money with the boys. I was proud. Our youngest bought a little toy helicopter which he loves and I pulled my daughter aside and said, “You made it possible for him to be so happy.” I patted myself on the back for my smooth parenting skills.

The next day, the kids go to the park. And this time they find €100 ($135)! It was in a slightly different place, but somewhere that they said they looked the day before. For some reason alarm bells start going off. I don’t think kidnappers try and bait children with cash, but my mind cannot figure out how someone could lose so much money. This time I tell the kids we’re going to hold on to the money for one week. We’re going to keep an eye out to see if anyone posts a sign saying they lost some money. If nothing happens, the kids can keep the money.

And of course, nothing happens. One week goes by and the kids start asking when they can have the money. So we sit down at lunch and we start talking about how to handle such a big blessing. I talked about how their mom and I like to give some of our paychecks to the church. And how we try and save a little for emergencies. But what bothers me is that I start to see greed building up in their little minds. Our daughter tries again to tell the boys that she found the money and it’s all hers. The boys complain because she said she would share. In my mind I’m thinking that this money is just too much for them. They’re used to their €2 a week allowance, and they just aren’t mature enough for such a windfall. They start talking about the junky toys they want to buy (kind of a pet peeve of mine - I hate cheap plastic toys that break in a week). Our daughter takes the money off my desk because she knows we have to go to a toy store to buy a birthday present for a friend. She didn’t steal the money, but she just assumed (incorrectly) that we were done talking about it and the money was theirs.

So what’s a parent to do? Should I let the kids blow the money? Is it OK to just treat this as a little blessing from God? Do I make them save some and give some and them use the rest as they want? How can I snuff out the greed that this “blessing” has caused? What lessons can I help them learn? I’d love the hear what you think…

04.27.09

Who should pay?

Posted in church, culture, ministry at 5:26 am

I overheard a very interesting conversation at church last night. A woman, who is normally fairly reserved, was really upset when she started talking about the victims of the earthquake in L’Aquila.

The government has promised to give the victims of third of their home’s value to rebuild. Many people have lost everything, and more and more reports are coming out that say the builders who originally constructed the buildings took shortcuts and didn’t obey government standards for earthquake proofing. So buildings that should have been able to withstand an earthquake crumbled.

Unfortunately, the city archive was also destroyed. So the chances of finding the builders (who are probably long gone anyway) are very slim. Even if the person remembered the company that built the building, more than likely those people aren’t around anymore.

So the woman in our church was lamenting the fact that the taxpayers have to foot the bill. She was upset that the mafia is probably involved and is skimming off the top. “Italians are good people - maybe too good,” she said as she described people who blindly give money to help with no real assurance that any of it ever gets to where it is intended. My friend said she would much rather invite someone into her home and, as she said, “share my bread with them” than send an text message that donates €1.00 to the Red Cross.

I think she has a point, but what can you do? Aren’t things like this the reason that people have governments? Earthquake insurance is nonexistent here. If the government doesn’t step in and help, who will?

The church?

Is it possible that Christians have relied on government to be the hands and feet of Jesus? Wouldn’t a group of people whose only motive is to relieve suffering and help as they are able be a far more effective “disaster relief team” than a big government bureaucracy?

04.12.09

The Wonderful Insanity of the Prayer Room

Posted in 24-7 Prayer, Ancona, church, culture at 3:03 am

Kyle is in the prayer room right now singing his heart out. I’m sitting just outside, waiting for my hour to start. It’s 7 AM, Easter Sunday morning. I look over the list of people who have signed up to pray and see that Kyle is going on his fourth hour of prayer. The early morning hours are always hard to fill, and who ever is on call has to pray if no one shows.

There’s a part of me that thinks we’re nuts for doing this. There’s nothing special about the room. We decorate it, and sometimes have a theme to help people to focus their thoughts. There are some candles and a big wooden cross. But it’s just a normal room. But at the same time there is something very un-normal about it.

I’m in a country where Easter is barely a religious holiday for most people, and really not much of a secular holiday either. I saw a poster in the center of town for an art exhibit that is opening up tonight. It’s just another day. I’m preparing to preach a simple Easter message and don’t really feel very Easter-y.

So I’m faced with this blah feeling about Easter, and this morning that feeling collided with the wonderful insanity of the prayer room. Ho-hum faced off with holy. Shrugged shoulders met bended knees. A yawn met a whispered prayer.

Guess who won?

04.09.09

Earthquakes

Posted in Ancona, church, ministry at 4:38 pm

Since moving to Italy, from time to time we feel a little rumble in the earth. Never anything large, and often something that you’re not sure you really felt until you read in the paper or see on the news that there was a tremor.

This week the city of L’Aquila in central Italy was hit with a powerful earthquake that, as of this moment, killed over 200 people and has left thousands homeless. We’re fine here in Ancona. As a church we’re trying to figure out the best way to help. We’ve been overwhelmed with people writing and calling to ask if we’re OK.

Jasmina Tešanović has written a very beautiful summary of what life is like in L’Aquila right now:

As I watch the TV, I know this is not a science fiction disaster movie, this is the new realism. Only last night the same television showed me an old movie with Ana Magnani: the post war late 1940s in Italy. It seemed so different: the good guys had defeated the bad guys. There was hope. Watching these high tech rescue squads, ambulances heavy with gear and with high pitched Italian sirens, politicians in Armani suits with Missoni ties, blonde sexy news announcers with cosmetic lip surgery, all scampering among the ruins, I feel uneasy. Where are the real people? Whatever became of normal life? Trained dogs sniff for normal life beneath the rubble.

You can read the entire article here. Please note that the website this article is posted at occasionally posts some off-color items. Browse carefully…

Keep praying.

04.08.09

Prayer in the Piazza

Posted in Ancona, Team, church, ministry at 4:27 pm

Once a week our team gets together for Prayer in the Piazza. It started as something a little uncomfortable for me. I much prefer praying in private. It’s sometimes difficult for me to come right out and let other people listen in on my conversation with God.

But as time passed and relationships with teammates grew stronger, I began to look forward to this time together. We pick a piazza to meet at, find a stair or curb to sit on, and pray. Eyes open, looking around, watching the sky and the people and the traffic. Sometimes we meet for coffee, and sit outside as people pass by, often bumping into us, completely unaware that they are being prayed for. Often times the line between prayer and conversation with teammates gets blurred as a moment of prayer turns into a discussion time about an issue we’re struggling with.

I used to see these pauses in the prayer time as interruptions, and would try and bring the focus back around to prayer. But if we really believe that God is present with us anyway, and if prayer really is a conversation with God, it seems to make sense for prayer to become like talking to the person across from us. It seems to me to be, as Brother Lawrence’s book is titled, The Practice of the Presence of God.

Our prayers often focus on asking God to show us where He is already working in this city, and how He is already causing the church to rise up. Big prayers and little prayers, while sitting in a piazza and watching the world go by.

I think the church needs more Prayer in the Piazza.

03.24.09

My kids couldn’t be more Italian

Posted in Ancona, family, kids at 4:16 pm

Around 3 PM this afternoon Heidi called me to say that the water was out. I got home around 4 PM, checked with our upstairs neighboor who said she didn’t have any water either, and called the water company. They played a recorded message saying that they were aware of the problem and things should be up and running around 8 PM.

Later in the evening, Chloe and I were driving around and she was asking when the water would be fixed. She stopped mid-sentence and asked, “Dad, if we don’t have water, how will we boil pasta?!”

Couldn’t be more Italian, could she?

03.21.09

What my kids think about me

Posted in family, kids at 7:26 pm

Wednesday of this week was Father’s Day here in Italy. And my kids made little cards and wrote me a letter. Here’s what they said:

Dear Dad:

Here are a few little things about you that I will always remember.

When we watch a movie together, three seconds after the film starts you forget all about it and fall asleep. When we go to the Auchan or Obi, when we leave you always ask if we can go to McDonalds. Every Sunday you make breakfast. And you play on your computer. And you help me with my homework. And we play Xbox together. Sometimes you and I go shopping. You are the dad that all of the kids would like to have!

You’re the best dad in the world!

I love you very much!

Chloe

Dear Dad,

I like it when you go outside and go hiking and sometimes you take me with you. And also when we play together.

Or when it’s Sunday and you make pancakes or the best french toast in the whole world.

It makes me laugh when you wake up early in the morning, and you’re so tired that you seem mad.

I also like it when you take me to the cheap seats and we watch Ancona soccer games.

You really are a great dad.

I love you very much.

Lance

Naturally, this was all in Italian. But no matter what the language, it really made my day.

Aww … shucks …

03.12.09

Finger Bump

Posted in Ancona, health care at 10:51 am

I’ve written several times about the health care system here in Italy. Our first big experience - the birth of our youngest - was fairly positive. There were some obvious differences, but the price of approximately €0.00 made the learning curve worth it. It seemed to be similar to what we experienced in America, but decentralized. You are responsible for more of your care, your record-keeping. There isn’t really a central location or doctor that coordinates everything.

So we’re now facing our second experience. I have a bump on my finger.

Eww a cyst!

Eww a cyst!

It’s not a big bump, but it kind of hurts. So I figure I’ll talk to my main doctor about it. He’s a great guy - very laid back. But I’m learning that he mostly just writes prescriptions and sends you to specialists. His office is about 8′ X 12′, there aren’t any nurses (only a morning receptionist), no billing, no appointments. It’s basic health care boiled down to the bare necessities.

He agrees it should be removed. Since it’s on the skin he gives me a prescription for an dermatologist appointment.

I make the appointment and find out the doctor sees patients at the city hospital. And there’s a wait of about eight weeks. I wait and show up and pay the €16.50 only to be told that my little bump is under the skin. I need to get an ultrasound and go see a surgeon.

Back to the primary doctor. He gives me a prescription for an ultrasound and a surgeon. I go to the office to make the appointment. They tell me there’s an spot open in Castelfidardo (about 35 minutes away) to see a surgeon. The ultrasound will take about three months and I have to go to Loreto (about 1 hour away). I ask if I need the ultrasound first, and they told me to ask the surgeon.

So I head to the appointment, and he tells me to leave since I don’t have the ultrasound.

More waiting. Then I decide to call about getting an ultrasound done privately. There are two systems here - the private, cheaper system that involves long lines and lots of headaches, or the private system, which is more expensive but generally easier. I call to see about changing my appointment to a private doctor. And to my surprise, there’s an appointment available in three days here in Ancona for €65. I take it, she prints out pictures of my finger bump, types up this fancy report, and I remake the appointment to see a surgeon.

And today was my appointment. I showed up, paid €16.50, and waited to go see him. They call my name, I sign a paper, and the doctor looks at the bump. And then quickly dismisses me. Apparently they coded my appointment wrong. I need to see a surgeon who works on hands. He’s a general surgeon, not a hand surgeon. I sat there, kind of stunned that I had wasted another morning on another fruitless appointment. The good news? He’s not going to charge me for the visit!

I was struck by a comment he made. He said that if we were in “some place like Africa” he would remove the bump himself without any problem. But since we’re in Italy “we have a better system.”

Really? I’ve been trying to get a tiny cyst removed for about five months now. I’ve been to offices all over the place and no one seems to be willing to help a foreigner understand a system that Italians struggle with. I’ve learned that most people just pay extra to see private doctors to avoid this mess. And sometimes I get nervous as to what might happen if something really serious is wrong someday.

We’ve got good doctors here, but it seems like they are covered in layer after layer of bureaucracy and apathy so no one seems to get anything done.

But hey, at least it’s cheap, right?