What I Will Miss (3) - Late Winter

The view out our window.

Winter is the way of life in the north country.  Even in the summer a northern breeze seems to carry a bit of the arctic with it. On the warmest of summer days it seems like a person could climb a white pine and see winter on the edge of the northern horizon. It is March 27th, and the snow is still over two feet deep in the yard. A friend went snow-shoeing with her daughter today.

Still, the season is ripe for signs. Just last week I smelled a skunk. Their odor, normally unpleasant, is one of the most welcome scents this time of year. Despite temperatures that are well below freezing, the smell means that the skunks are coming out of hibernation and beginning to become active.  They are looking for mates. In May they will give birth to their young. Skunks are a nuisance most of the year, but when a whiff of their smell is carried on the winter breeze, it is a sure sign that beneath all of the cold, winter is weakening ever so slightly. 

This morning I thought I heard geese flying overhead. A check of a nearby river proved I was right: there was a patch of open water with 8 Canadian geese swimming in it. The sight of geese would not be noteworthy in June, but I haven't seen the geese for almost half a year. I watched them for a while as I pondered the fact that I had survived another winter.

Last week my attention was drawn to another faint sound I had not heard for months: running water. It was the smallest of trickles, but my heart leaped at its sound. The sun, so low in January's sky that it carries no heat, had finally risen enough to begin the process of melting the snow. The south facing drifts are the first to feel its effects. Over the coming weeks there will probably be another snowstorm or two, but things are different now. The melting of the snow has begun. It will take weeks to finish. The lakes will open up around the last week of April and then in May the hills will begin to turn the faintest of greens.

The magic of late winter in the north is not something that attracts tourists, yet it is more wonderful than going to the beach for the sun and a swim. To know what the trickle of water means you have to go through a half-year of enduring the bitterness of winter. You have to have changed a tire when it is -30, driven countless miles on snow-covered roads, and despaired of ever truly being warm again in order to understand the smell of the skunk, the honking of geese, or the simple trickling of water.

That is why I will miss it...because the end of the northern Minnesota winter is not something that you can ever visit. If in the future I return to the north at the end of March, I will only be able to remember what those signs once meant. I won't be able to truly experience them again. They will be a part of the wonder of my northern Minnesota past that I will never forget and always cherish.

If you don't think this is funny, you've never spent a month below 0!

An Introduction to Strasbourg

I am an American. While this brings with it many benefits, it also carries with it a number of weaknesses. For example, the fact that I can drive for a couple of thousand miles from my home without needing to speak another language means that I have never learned to speak another language. Our sheer size and location between two oceans and two friendly neighbors means that world news is generally relegated to page three or four of the newspaper. Most Americans would have a hard time naming the heads of a half-dozen foreign countries. While my interest in missions has broadened my horizons, the reality is that I had never heard of Strasbourg until someone asked if I would be interested in taking a sabbatical there last year. Like many people, when I heard the name I assumed that the city was located in Germany. And I would have been almost right. It has been in Germany. Several times.

Confused? I was. Here's the story.

First Roman...

Strasbourg started out as an outpost of the Roman Empire in 12 BC. The Romans called it Argentoratum. As a base on the frontier of the Roman Empire, it suffered a variety of battles and was finally overrun by the "barbarians" in the fourth century.

...Then German...

The Cathedral in Strasbourg

By the 10th century, the town had become known as Strasbourg and had become a part of the Germanic Roman Empire. While Christian worship had been taking place in the city for centuries, work on the city's crown jewel, the Cathedral, began in earnest in the 12th century. When completed in 1439, it became the tallest building in the world. Shortly thereafter, Johannes Gutenberg invented Europe's first movable type printing press in the city and the first  modern newspaper was published in Strasbourg in 1605.

The 16th century saw Strasbourg as influential center of the Protestant Reformation. Martin Bucer agreed with the teachings of Martin Luther and the city's printing industry helped the intellectual movement of the reformation flourish. Worship in the Cathedral became Protestant. For several years the great Swiss theologian John Calvin took refuge in the city.

...Then French...

The Cathedral as a
"Temple of Reason"
during the French
Revolution

While Strasbourg was neutral during the Thirty Years War, it was suddenly annexed by the French in 1681. The French at the time were not tolerant of Protestants, but Strasbourg and the region of Alsace enjoyed a special status. The Cathedral was returned to the Catholics and Catholicism was promoted, but Protestants enjoyed relative freedom in the area.

The French Revolution brought many changes to Strasbourg. Many churches were destroyed and the Cathedral lost many of its statues. In 1794 there was serious talk of tearing the Cathedral's spire down because zealots thought it represented ideals contrary to Revolution. Creative citizens quickly built a giant Phrygian cap (a symbol of the Revolution) and put it on the tower, thus saving this incredible building.

Saint Maurice Church
 near our apartment

...Then German...

The middle of the 19th century brought the Franco-Prussian war to the area and the siege of Strasbourg in 1870 destroyed many of the city's finest collections in a bombardment. Ironically, destruction came as a result of a poorly done French map that had been captured by Germans. The map erroneously labeled the city library as the city hall. At the end of the war, Strasbourg became German once again. A ring of fortifications was built around the city and are now popular destinations. Two beautiful churches were built to serve the German troops. The Catholic church, Saint Maurice, is across the street from our apartment and its bells are a constant reminder of the presence of God.

President Wilson

...Then French...

At the end of World War I the Treaty of Versailles returned the region to the French. One of President Wilson's Fourteen Points read, "All French territory should be freed and the invaded portions restored, and the wrong done to France by Prussia  in 1871 in the matter of Alsace-Lorraine, which has unsettled the peace of the world for nearly fifty years, should be righted, in order that peace may once more be made secure in the interest of all."

...Then German...

That security was short-lived. At the start of WWII, Hitler "liberated" Strasbourg and the Alsace region from the French. Many of young men who lived in Alsace were forced to serve in the German army at the Russian front. Robert Heinrich Wagner was installed to rule Alsace. His nickname "The Butcher of Alsace" sheds light on the conditions under the Nazis. Thousands died at his direction.

...Now French and a Symbol of Unity

Allied bombing damaged much of the city before French troops entered it once again in 1944 and it has remained French to this day.

The Alsatian city of Strasbourg, with its long history of French and German influence has become a symbol of unity in Europe. In 1949 it became the home of the Council of Europe with its Court of Human Rights. In 1951 the European Parliament began meeting in Strasbourg and named the city its official seat in 1991. 

It is also the home of Trinity International Church, a church that welcomes people from all nations to join together in worshiping and serving the Lord Jesus Christ.

So there you have a brief introduction to the history of the this wonderful town, where every person has a story and every corner has a cafe in which to tell it.

But They Speak French!

Inspector Clouseau.

It was a simple decision that I would not regret for almost forty years.

Should I take French or Spanish? It is a weighty decision for a seventh grader. The responsible thing to do was to take Spanish because there was a growing Hispanic population in our area. But that is not why I chose Spanish. I made the decision in the typical seventh grader way: Spanish was more fun. The French teacher was strict and constantly drilled grammar and vocabulary. Students came out of her classes with glazed eyes and French accents. They whispered in French to each other in the hallways. The Spanish teacher, on the other hand, had weekly taco parties. By the end of the year students had mastered the words "enchilada" and "burrito". All the cute girls took Spanish because the teacher was also the cheerleading coach. To top it off, my best friend Noel was taking Spanish. Not only was Noel a cheerleader, she was hilarious. Which did I want to do: learn a language or hang out with cheerleaders, be silly, and eat tacos? The decision was ridiculously easy.

How could I know that I would one day move to France? Oh what mighty consequences there are in decisions made by twelve year-old boys! Had I chosen differently I would know how to order a meal, count change, and read the street signs in France. But now I must learn a new language after speaking nothing but English for almost half a century. Woe is me!

The Voyageurs

You would think that living in northern Minnesota would be an advantage in learning French. This area was once the domain of French voyageurs. They paddled the waterways trading for furs with the Natives. French songs echoed across the lakes as they made their way at summer's end to the Grand Portage and Lake Superior. The voyageurs belong to yesteryear. No one speaks French here anymore. There are no French classes within sixty miles of here.

I am on my own.

"Bring him back to me you will."

I've been told that the most common 1000 words will give you about 70% of the vocabulary you need to read a typical newspaper. So I found a wonderful flashcard program called Anki  and am using it to drill vocabulary.  I love French words like "docteur". It means doctor! I hate French words like "blesser". It means to hurt or injure! I have been working through some Basic French workbooks. Who knew that every French noun had a gender? Apparently back at the Tower of Babel they flipped a coin to choose the gender of every word. And the French sentence structure? It sounds like Yoda-speak to me.

He might be a relative...

The hardest part is pronunciation. I have been told that all I need to do to pronounce French properly is use my best Inspector Clouseau impersonation. I try. I really do try. For some reason the French don't pronounce the last part of most written words, so I hack off the ending and give it my best Clouseau. My wife, who was wise enough to take French in high school, furrows her brow and says, "What did you say?" So I try again. The harder I try the worse it gets. Apparently my Clouseau accent sounds more like a drunk Norwegian than a Frenchman! If only I could take a class! Jesus, HELP ME!

Enter God.

Two weeks ago my wife Janet noticed a young woman sitting by herself during our church service. The young woman was new to the area and was checking out our church. When Janet mentioned that we would be moving to France the woman smiled and said, "That's interesting, my husband is fluent in French! In fact, I am sure he would love to teach you!" And so he started private classes with us. As we spend time together my tongue is starting to make the right sounds. I am beginning to understand French. Along the way we are becoming friends.

I am learning to trust God. He has asked me to move to France and when I despair of learning a new language He proves he cares about me. He provides in unexpected ways. Following Him is not always easy. Nor is it always fun. Sometimes it is endless drills rather than taco parties. But it the end, following Him is absolutely the best way to live. He surprises us again and again with His faithful provision and care.

The apostle Paul wrote of times that he enjoyed seasons of abundance, but he also wrote of seasons of great hardship. There were times of joy and times of discouragement. Through it all God was teaching Him to be truly satisfied in Him. That is the secret of contentment that he wrote about in Philippians 4:12-13. As Paul reflected on what he had been through he wrote, "I can do all things through Him who gives me strength." While Paul was never faced with my situation, I am convinced that "learning French" is included in the words "all things."