vatican city

Today, frustrated from minor complications in Rome, I was blessed.

It started with free tour of St. Peter's Basicalla in the Vatican City. I've seen many churches in Europe, but this was amazing (and the largest in the world). I stood wide-eyed in the place where St. Peter is believed to be buried 40 feet below, as our tour guide (a masters in history and theology from Louisiana) shared evidence that...

1) the skeleton is missing feet--Peter was crucified upside down, after which soldiers would cut the feet off instead of removing the nail,

2) a church in another part of Europe claimed to have a piece of his skull, which matched the remains perfectly,

3) archeologists determined the remains were from a large-framed man in his 60's who was killed in the first century A.D.

Wow.

I then climbed up massive flights of stairs to the top of the dome (over 400 feet high), listening to "A Mighty Fortress is Our God" on my ipod, gazing over the largest bronze statue in the world), and then came outside to a spectacular view of the city.

Then, I headed over to the Vatican Museum, where I stood in the Sistene Chapel, staring at Michellangelo's "The Last Judgement," with the Lord of the Rings soundtrack blaring in my ears.

Today, amazed with the beauty and history of Rome, I was blessed.

alive in rome

walking the ancient city
where men believed they were gods

and i wonder

how God sees us
when we believe the same lie

in 24 hours...

24 Hour Travel Formula from Dubrovnik, Croatia to Rome, Italy

1. Take a day trip to Mjlet, Croatia, and rent bikes to ride uphill for what seems like a week in order to find the cash machine to go to the national park where you board a small boat to visit and swim at a monestary on an island within an island.

2. Leave Mjlet, Croatia on a ferri, watch sunset over the Adriatic Sea just after camera batteries die just as the sun explodes with magnificant colors between surrounding rocky mountains and cliffs. Take mental picture instead and call it good.

3. Arrive back in Dubrovnik, Croatia to board an all night ferri to Bari, Italy. Sleep on the floor of the ferri and mow down as much free food as possible for breakfast.

4. Wait 1.2 hours in sweaty customs office, where you are asked if you are Italian, or at least if your father was. Instead, represent the Finnish, or at least smile and thank them for not interrogating you.

5. Take bus number 20 to Bari, Italy train station.

6. Purchase ticket to Rome, Italy at the advice of a ticket dealer who assured us this way was faster. Board train.

7. Arrive 15 minutes late and miss connecting train to Rome.

8. Wait two hours in sweaty train station for next train with combination of guys from Spain and Argentina. Italian pizza redeems high cost of sweat by being delicious.

9. Arrive in different train station than intended.

10. Purchase ticket to new train station.

11. Board train to right train station.

12. Locate tourist map at correct train station, discover that Metro is closed for the night. Try not to be angry, you are now in Rome.

13. Successfully navigate streets of Rome at night to locate accomidations.

14. Take shower.

15. Post exhaustive and boring blog about journeys of the last 24 hours.

16. Sleep like baby.

17. Repeat in three days.

go to croatia

To arrive in Dubrovnik, Croatia, we took a 15 hour overnight bus trip. It was worth every minute.

walls

i've spent years building these walls,
cold as stone,
hard to break.

when you come creeping in,
to break them down,
i'll unlock the gate.

bled, slovenia

There is a villiage called Bled, Slovenia, where pictures fail to fully communicate the beauty. We swam (the long way, of course) out to the island in the middle of Lake Bled, surrounded by alpine hills, a castle constructed on a cliff, with the Julian Alps as the backdrop.

Slovenia is said to be one of the greenest countries in the world--it's like the Upper Peninsula mixed with a touch of the Mediterranen, but encompassed by striking mountains.

They claim to have invented skiing, and I believe them.

the remaining journey

Today I’ve made far too many accumulated posts for anyone to read due to scarce internet access. The trip has been exciting and relaxing, with amazing sites, conversations and photos.

With uncertain future internet access, I’ve decided to post the rest of our tentative schedule, though, of course it will change.

July 19: Bled, Slovenia

July 20: Somewhere in Croatia (?)

July 23: Ferri to Italy (?)

July 24: Rome, Italy

July 27: Florence, Italy

July 29: Cinque Terre, Italy

August 2: Barcelona, Spain

August 5: Valencia, Spain

August 8: Gryon, Switzerland

August 11: Paris, France

August 15: Paris to London to Grand Rapids, Michigan

slowing down in slovenia

We arrived in the relaxing capital of Ljubljana, Slovenia yesterday afternoon from Vienna. The train ride was stunning and the landscape amazing: jagged cliffs and beautiful, rolling green hills.

It has been a much-needed break from the big cities—we are staying at the amazing “Most Hostel,” where the hosts are excellent and made us Turkish coffee.

We spent last night over pizza and Slovenian beer with two guys we met from England staying at our hostel: Chris, an Oxford graduate on his way to a PhD in chemistry to look for alternative sources of energy, and James, a recent graduate of theology who aspires to be a Vicar in the Anglican Church and is engaged to be married next June.

They were the first outspoken Christians we’ve met so far on our trip. With a common bond and language, it was refreshing to talk to these two brilliant-minded thinkers—about the church, the Gospel, our stories, and different theories of how it all will work out in the end.

About a year ago I was frustrated with the “Christian Bubble,” where we can often get lost in ourselves. On this trip, what has been truly refreshing is the opportunity to talk with people who are different than me: to be challenged, to be stretched, to learn to listen. A few we’ve met along the way:

The engineer from Alabama constructing robots to defeat the world’s best poker players;

The two wonderfully intelligent Jewish girls from Jersey taking a final breath before entering med and acoustics school(s);

The Australian chef who drinks absinthe in heaps with laughter as contagious as the bird flu;

Two young Australian girls on a holiday before going to school in Sweden;

Two older Australian girls on a two-year travel hiatus who aren’t afraid to dress in Italian futbol gear amongst 3,000 opposing fans;

Two music-crazy Austrian girls starting to attend school to be elementary teachers;

Two fresh LA high school graduates dreading the beginning of college;

Three image conscious girls whose parents own vacation homes in Whistler, British Columbia;

The Russian-born turned New Yorker girl who teaches children how to play piano;

The 19-year-old jokester from Ohio who tells others he’s a 22-year-old from Orange County;

Young Toronto girl who quit her job to travel Peru for three-weeks before heading to Croatia for a family wedding;

The deep-thinking writer working on his second book project;

And I, the cubicle-wearied turned entrepreneur on a multi-faceted journey;

We are all much the same, yet very different. Each of us is on a search for something, and I hope we all find it.

mozart's magic

I felt the musical magic of Vienna, more alive than the night before (see “if this is love”), as I watched an organ concert inside of the beautiful St. Peter’s Cathedral in the Old Town.

I imagined the same cathedral pouring out praises for Mozart, of Bach, all the legends of this town. My eyes, wide-open like a child on Christmas morning, my heart alive and mind working overtime to process the excitement.

“Create! Create because you were created,” the Composer shouts from the Heavens. I thank the Lord for music that ignites the soul, that sets a fire inside of us to create.

the organ blasts, reminding me of past
buildings where God lived and I confessed sins,
where i first purchased fire insurance
and later was given life and breath.

i come to your holy hill, reverent for You,
hoping you’ll move and begin something new,

reminiscent of saturday’s dressed in black,
in celebration of bride and groom,
but the marriage of love
was the place of the skull and an empty tomb.

futbol gospel

In a magical night in Vienna, I watched some street evangelists, one talking in English, the other in German, use a futbol (soccer) analogy to explain salvation to a diverse group of people in a busy city square.

The illustration used the yellow card (warning that humans are sinful), red card (impending judgment), and then asked the crowd if the believed that God was given them a warning card that night.

The most interesting part of the presentation was when the following comment: “This is not about religion, this is about new life.” Amen.

After the presentation, an elderly woman came forward and others inquired about their pamphlets, I was reminded of the Gospel, that we all need redemption; we all need Jesus.

if this is love

This poem was written in Vienna, Austria, after witnessing two southern California-college-party guys bring a young woman to our hostel room to do the unthinkable in our company.

WARNING: Be cautious reading it; it is vulgar, I did not want to write it, using words I don’t speak, but I believe it communicates a message about human nature in its ugliest moments.

Cam gracefully confronted the guys in the morning, and they shamefully bowed their heads and exited the hostel, while we were stuck with memories of something so primal and so disrespectful, that we wondered if any good can come of it.

In hindsight, it did open my eyes to the severity of physical relationships and the importance of purity. As I sat in my hostel bed reflecting on this experience, the following about human nature was evident:

1. sex is not love
2. women give sex to feel loved; men love (or some counterfeit form of it), to get sex
3. humans are evil
4. humans are selfish beyond measure
5. humans have animalistic flesh-patterns
6. the strong have the power to oppress the weak

There are many things happening around us that we cannot see. I can no longer question whether evil exists, whether the Devil is real, whether an invisible war is at hand.

And I think about the grace that covers it all, and I realize that the cross is both “beautiful and offensive,” to cover the world’s sins.

if this is love

the evil lie in wait to pounce on their prey,
while the weak receive, open-legged and helpless.

drunkenness to debauchery, and then to this,
no love, no kiss, no sound, purely mechanics.

my stomach drops as my ears hear evil in motion,
helpless; furious; disgusted.

sick to my stomach,
beyond folly, you went much further.

evil is the monster that propels each thrust,
if this is love, then you’ve been f**ked.

if love is an art, you are not artists,
you pay for the painting, surely it’s counterfeit.

this is not love, but a disease,
a pattern a flesh, the devil the butcher.

as you go to the closet to cleanse your sins,
i, wide awake and ill, pray for this mess we live in.

so many expensive lies you’ve bought,
and paid too much to be locked up.

remember with me, the twin cities of lust,
where wrath awaits and God weeps for children astray.

there is true love, woven through time,
of people like you; like me; like us,

who do the unthinkable,
while the unthinkable has set us free.

open your eyes, and you will find,
the story of love unfolding through time.

in ashes we soon will be,
in ashes we repent.

for Yahweh is coming,
but has already come.

behind these doors (through the jewish quarter)

This was a poem written in Prague, Czech Republic. We toured the Jewish Quarter, which had seen many different waves of oppression. The poem talks about the invasion of the Nazi’s in WWII. In Prague, Hitler made plans to preserve the museum to remember an “extinct race,” which was beyond disturbing.

Behind these iron doors lie shallow graves,
Twelve layers deep of staggered remains,

Fear; the preamble of suffering,
Suffering; the preamble of death,
Death, the product of insanity,

“Let us preserve the museum for a race extinct,
Everything else must go, even the children,”
The madman boasts while combing the streets,

As trains are filled to the brim with the walking dead,
Innocent children draw pictures, now a ghostly reminder,
Of disasters beyond our comprehension, only a half-century past,

Insanity in high places reeks of evil,
The streets are reduced to rubble,
People to numbers, then to dust,

While the count continues growing,
Holy insurgents plot plans to kill the madman,
To save the innocent, but the innocent die instead,

For nothing more than beliefs,
Yet we are all much the same.

Desperation closes in,
The madman puts a bullet in his skull,
And the world becomes a better place.