The topic
of class last week was “models of church.” We did an interesting exercise in which the instructor laid out 40 or so photos and asked us each to
choose one that represented “what church should be” and one that represented “what
church should not be.” Of course, there wasn’t a single answer: church should
be community, collective effort, a way to pass on wisdom, an oasis… Then we
read ten different bible passages offering images of church (as light of the world,
salt of the earth, chosen people, and so on). The message of the class was clear:
“church” isn’t a single thing, or a collection of facts, or the hierarchy from
the Pope down to the people—it’s a collective idea that we form in the context
of our society and history.
I’ve been
thinking about church as “home.” The priest asked my new colleague and me to
write a few sentences introducing ourselves, to be published in the church
bulletin. This seemed incredibly daunting at first…hi, I’m Susannah, I have a PhD in
medical physics...no wait who cares…um… I ultimately talked about the fact that
the playgroup that I’m now running was an important source of social contact
for me when we first moved to Switzerland, and how the church in general has
been a constant in my rather nomadic life. The
priest said he liked what I had written, and that this was something he’d
thought about in the context of the Albanian mission, which also has services
in our church – for the people who come, church isn’t just about worshipping
God, it’s about meeting other people who literally speak the same language, an
oasis of familiarity in a foreign land. I think this sense of "church" has
particular meaning to many expats, immigrants, and refugees around the
world (and not just Christian ones).
The Swiss
have this concept of a Heimatort – “hometown,”
except that sounds folksy and personal and Heimatort is far more weighty.
In Switzerland you aren’t first and foremost a citizen of the country, you’re a citizen of
a town – for most Swiss, the town their great-grandparents came from. This of
course made far more sense before modern mobility made it easy (and necessary)
for people to move to other towns and cantons and countries, but the concept
remains and is part of your identity here: <Name>, born on <date>,
from <place>. It’s important for immigrants, too: when someone applies
for citizenship, they apply for citizenship of a specific town, and the general
rules say that you must live for 10 years in that same place before you can even
apply.
Like most
military brats, I have trouble with the question, “where are you from?” These
days I just say “Seattle” because that’s an answer people are satisfied with,
and most people here haven’t been to Seattle so I don’t get too many follow-up
questions. But the truth is more complicated. Seattle is the home of my
grandparents, of evergreens and blackberries and grey days and white mountains,
a place where my soul resonates with the climate. But Zurich is as much my home
as Seattle these days, a city I love to wander around, the place where all my
books are, where my children are growing up. There are other bits of my heart
scattered all over – in Monterey, home of teenage angst and first loves and
waves; Newport, home of childhood escapades; Claremont, where everybody knows
your name… As a birthday present this past weekend I took a trip sans-kids to London, ever the
lover with whom I’ve never had the burden of a real relationship – tantalizing,
passionate, and exhausting.
For me
church is a common thread through all those places, sometimes a big part of my
life, sometimes not, always a point of connection. Coincidentally my hotel in
London was right next door to the German mission, so I went to mass there on
Sunday. Strange, to be escaping to London only to find comfort in going to
Mass in German.
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| St. Boniface's German Church, London |
The preferred
model of church in current Swiss theology is “der Volk Gottes unterwegs,” which
conjures for me the image from that video we saw a few week ago: a long line of
people shuffling, single file, through the desert…not super appealing. But the idea
is that we are the children of God walking together in continuous pursuit of
God’s will for ourselves as individuals and for the church collectively. I think it’s supposed to
communicate in particular that change is not a thing to be feared, but an
integral part of the fact that we are on a journey together – something that the generally-conservative Swiss perhaps need to be reassured about.
On
Saturday, I went with a friend to see an exhibit by Wolfgang Tillmans at the
Tate Modern. One of the exhibit rooms has, in addition to his photographs and
art, clipping of journal and news articles about public opinion and cognitive
bias. The booklet from the exhibition says “[Tillmans] began his wryly-named truth study center project in 2005.
Photographs, clipping from newspapers and magazines, objects, drawings, and
copies of his own images are laid out in deliberate – and often provocative –
juxtapositions. … In 2017, the subject of truth and fake news is at the heart
of political discourse across the world. This iteration of the project focuses
in particular on how constructions of the truth work on a psychological and physiological
level.” There were a couple of disturbing studies about how people confronted
with facts that contradicted an established bias failed to question their bias,
and instead doubled-down on it. I don’t think this is big horrifying news in
quite the way it’s presented sometimes: salespeople have known all along that
facts aren’t the way to convince people...but it's definitely the question of the year: if we can't agree on the facts, how do we move forward together?
In tonight’s
class (yep, a little late posting this, my plan was to get lots of writing done
in London but I just couldn’t bear to stay in the hotel room that much, the city was
calling!) we’re going back to talking about church history. We got a little
booklet with four parallel timelines going from the birth of Jesus to the
election of Bill Clinton: church history, papal history, theological history,
and political history. Our homework is to look through the booklet and mark “all
the things we’ve heard of.” I’m afraid this is going to be a somewhat embarrassing
exercise because I have a hole in my education roughly the size and shape of all
of European history. But history is another thing I've been wanting to write about. So with luck, more soon.
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| "No minute gone ever comes back again, take heed and see ye nothing do in vain" |


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