Skálholt

Laid back couple of days. We arrived late(ish) yesterday afternoon at Skálholt - we're visiting during a pastors' retreat. I've felt a bit in the way, though I'm pretty sure that's my issue, not the pastors': they've all been quite nice, even if they do cast the occasional bemused glance at our motley group of Americans-in-intentional-exile.

Since most of the seminars are conducted in Icelandic, we're at a bit of a loss, so we're using this time for group bonding (Bananagrams, anyone?) and picture taking. We've also been scarfing down the copious and delicious food. We've also found ourselves growing more and more used to the sound of Icelandic, and are even able to get through some of the services (Compline and Matins were especially awesome) without getting utterly lost.

The rector and dean of Skálholt school came and spoke with us this morning about the structure of the Icelandic church and about some of the current issues facing the people and their pastors. It was very nice of them to "wing" this session in English for us - well done and much appreciated. Takk, gents!

I need to wrap up this entry: we're getting ready to attend Dr. G's lecture, so I need to run back to the room to grab my bottle of Brenavin (kidding).

Gracious God, thank you for the opportunity to rest, and thank you for our group's fellowship, both within our own group and within a broadening context. Thank you for providing us with hosts who operate in the trust of your abundance even in the face of scarcity. Continue to bless them, we pray in your holy name. Amen.

Oh, are you the Americans??

"Yes, yes we are..." is our usual response. I have never been one to explore new and great places, and have usually been the one who pokes fun at those "tourists" walking around with their lost looks and cameras. Well now the tables have turned and I am the one asking sometimes obvious questions, looking lost, and taking pictures of everything I see. But the thing I've been realizing is that we are welcome here.

Our hosts have been unbelievably welcoming and friendly, answering all the silly questions we ask, asking their own questions, and only speaking to each other in their own language when they don't want us to understand on rare occasions. The participants of the conference here in Skalholt have also been very welcoming to "the Americans", and have even said a few things in English so we can participate! But the pastors here have shown interest in where we are from and why we're here. We've worshipped together, and though we couldn't speak much of the liturgy we could catch on with the repeated verses, or at least hum along. We can say the Lord's Prayer in English in the same meter that it is said in Icelandic. We may not understand all that is going on, but we are worshipping together.

Yes, we are the Americans, and they are the Icelanders. But there is one thing that can cross cultural divides, and that is being children of God. Jesus crossed cultural divides every day, and we are called to do the same. What would it be like for us to welcome the stranger? I think it would look a lot like finding beds and food for some visiting Americans, or sharing a worship opportunity with someone who doesn't speak the language, or answering some silly questions for someone who is genuinely interested, or sharing a table of bread and wine, or...

Compassionate God, you sent your son to welcome the stranger and we are called to do the same. Thank you for welcoming hosts, compassionate friends, and loving strangers. Help us to take those opportunities to welcome the strangers in our lives. Amen.

Yule Lads

Hello again, Jenna here! So, I finally got around to taking pictures of the little figurines known as Yule Lads. My host family has a set of them and I wanted to take a picture. (shown left) There is a really cute story behind these. These little guys are the Santa Claus's of Iceland, but they are known to cause mischief. I will post the link to where I got the explanations; I hope they are accurate. http://www.randburg.com/is/icelandic-yule-lads/index.asp

This is the link I got them from, but I'll copy the explanations into this blog so I get it right.

The story is that these 13 Santas had horrible parents who captured and ate naughty children. At first, their 13 children were thought to be scary just like their parents but later they became less frightening. The santas arrive 13 days before Christmas and each of them come one day at a time, and cause some trouble right before Christmas.

"The first one to arrive is the yule lad Stiff Legs, (Sheep-Cop-Clod): He loves to suck milk from the sheep, but his stiff legs make that very difficult. In Icelandic he's called "Staurfotur". The Second to arrive is the infamous Gully Gawk, (Gully Guy): Has a taste for the froth on the milk and keeps close to the cows.

The third is the yule lad Shorty, small and nimble and smacks his lips over the leftovers in the cooking pans, especially if they are burnt or gone bad. Then there is Ladle Licker, (Fence-Post-Pal), so thin he resembles the ladles which he licks the food from.

The fifth to arrive is Pot Scraper, he snatches the unwashed pots from the kitchen and scrapes the insides with his fingers and tongue and leaves them quite clean. Number six is Bowl Licker, very cunningly finds bowls that have been left unattended and finishes all food from them.

The seventh to arrive is door Slammer, he gets his kicks from slamming doors and making noise, using every chance he gets to disturb peoples sleep Then the nimber eight is curd Glutton (Skyr Gobbler), dairy products are his favorite and if stored in closed containers he simply breaks through the lid with his fist.

Ninth to arrive is the great Sausage Snatcher, (Sausage Swiper), very skilful when it comes to climbing up into the rafters to steal sausages where tha hang after being smoked. Then there is the not so popular Window Peeper, (Peeping Tom), he flattens his nose against every window to glimpse something to steal or at peoples actions inside. The eleventh to drop by is Sniffer, he has a huge nose and sniffes out his favorite food, fried bread, wherever it is being made. Twelfth of the Christmas boys to drop by is Meat Hook, he has a long pole with a hook on the end to put down the chimneys and into the meat hung on the rafters. And the last to come is Candle Beggar, he loves candles of all sorts and can't make up his mind whether to eat them or watch their lovely light.
Today, they leave little presents for the children who have behaved all year. The children leave their shoes on their window sills and the Jolasveinar but in it little gifts. Any children who have been naughty get a potato or some other reminder that good behavior is essential around Christmas."

So, that's the story of the Yule Lads in Iceland! Pretty fun story, huh? Personally, I think it's FAR more creative than the tradtional American version of the Santa story. Our host mom was also telling us that one of the yule lads has a cat who is mean and eats kids that don't get clothes for Christmas. She said this was more meant for parents to do something for their children for Christmas, especially if they don't have much money. The idea is that if the kids get a little clothing, even if it is just a pair of socks or shoes, then they will be safe from the cat eating their child, but it is mostly so that parents make sure to get their child something for Christmas. I thought it was a cute story. Puts a new twist to getting clothes for Christmas! I can remember always hating getting clothes when all I wanted was the hottest new toy, but now it's so much different. I was relieved to know that thanks to my parents getting me the Hawkeyes' Orange Bowl sweatshirt, I am unedible to the cat.

Right now, I am in Skalhalt. Many of the pastors here at the acadamey are in a lecture right now. Since the lecture is in Icelandic, and none of us speak or understand the language, we are sititng in the cafeteria area playing games and utilizing the wireless internet. The church here is beautiful (shown below), and there is a mosaic of Jesus in the front of the church. I will definitely be getting a picture of it tomorrow. It's gorgeous! The stained glass windows are also beautiful too. By the time we arrive today the sun was already setting so we didn't get to see the light through the stained glass, but we got an awesome view of the sunset!! Tomorrow, there will be more lectures (most of them in Icelandic) and then Dr. Giere will give a lecture called "The Sermon in Difficult Times." I'm excited to hear it! Should be a good day tomorrow. Anyway, I'm signing off so I can socialize.

Grace and Peace,

Jenna

Gracious Lord,

Thank you for the gift of community. We have been so blessed here by the amazing hospitiality and friendliness of the Icelandic people. Thank you for the pastors in Iceland, those here and those not here. Thank you for an opportunity for them to gather together in community, worship, prayer, and fellowship, and for giving us the opportunity to be a part of it. Please be with us and let the Spirit work in them and in us to hear your Holy Word. In Your name we pray, Amen.

At Skálholt

“[The] house was perfect, whether you liked food, or sleep, or work, or story-telling, or singing, or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all.”

Something about Skálholt makes this quote from The Hobbit come to mind. Here there are lectures, bedrooms, a living room with a fireplace for talk late into the night, plentiful and delicious food, and regular singing in the church (Aftönsongur, Náttsönger, and more). Whenever the bell rings we all run to get our shoes and coats and hie us to church (it’s not far, but it’s cold!).

Speaking of shoes, here’s a cross-cultural tidbit: it’s important to take off your shoes (or muddy, snowy boots) when you enter an Icelander’s home, and the halls of Skálholt are no exception. I’ve noticed that while we normally keep a bench in our entryways for sitting and donning shoes, that’s not the case here. Instead people use shoehorns with long handles that make it easy to put your boots on while standing—at least, I assume it becomes easy with practice. I’m not quite there yet.

Kids

As one of a handful of parents on the trip I have a different lens through which to explore Iceland than some others. Yesterday, Sunday, I had three experiences with kids that were examples of God's amazing and humbling power. The first was when we attended Sunday school in the church of one of our hosts. It was truly wonderful to see that despite the language difference, the conversations were clear to me. See the children were mostly young, 1-5. Three of my four fall under that range, so seeing Icelandic parents worry and fret and be embarrassed about what was playful kid behavior and to them was "why are they running around in church??", was reassuring to me. It was reassuring because on some levels our culture and our language really do not matter. Children are a gift from God and parents want to raise children that are wonderful servants of God and being that parent is sometimes difficult.

Later in the day we attended our first swimming hall and I must say that it is no wonder why Icelanders are rated among the happiest people on earth. What a wonderful way to relax and have fun. And here again there were kids and it could have been a summer swimming pool or YMCA in the US. Parents were worried about kids slipping, kids weren't getting dressed fast enough, and the kids pool was full of life and energy like no other. It was my second example with children in how through play, God teaches us. Most people of course care about the welfare of children but parents have the added benefit experiencing the unique creativeness in finding mischief that is a 4 year old. Seeing one little boy exploring the boundaries with his dad was fun as I'm sure it was for both of them. I could tell without knowing the words that both dad and son grew in trust and love because of the relationship that was being stretched and grown through play at the pool. That is not that different from how God "plays" with us. It again reminded that through relationship with our Father, constantly pushing, we grow as people.

My final adventure with kids yesterday was at a different host family's home for dinner. We arrived shortly before the tremendous meal was ready. During that time I and my other travel mates got to play with their two kids. I was amused by the little boy that played peek-a-boo with me. How easily kids can play without barriers or reservation. God created us to be creatures that interact and are in relationships and yesterday I saw how universal it truly is in children. How great would it be if we maintained that joy of childhood?

Good and gracious God, I thank You for all the joy and blessings in this world that only come from Your hand. I especially thank You for our children and the pure joy that they exhibit. I pray that we can always hold on to that feeling of relational trust, rooted in You God, in all that we do in service for You. In Your Son's name I pray, Amen.

Avatar

Put your 3D glasses on and get ready for a barn-burner. Tonight six of us made a trip to the cinema to catch a flick, one that was fortunately in English, though some essential subtitles were in Icelandic. For those of you who have not seen Avatar I suggest you fork out the ten or more dollars (though it was cheaper than ten dollars here, goggles included). An Avatar is a Hindu understanding of a physical being inhabited by a deity. Appropriate to the movie. In all honesty, the movie is a heavy commentary on not just American History, (though mainly it is), but the history any civilization that has destroyed another for what treasures they sit on.

I grew up about 20 miles south of the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, quite probably the most impoverished place in the United States. I have learned some of Sioux spirituality from school, some from churches in the area, but most from kind friends and acquaintances willing to open their culture up to me and others. I think that for the most part, Americans should be able to see the quite obvious connections in the movie Avatar, though my proximity to the reservation and education of the Plains Indian Wars may give me a deeper insight than most. In Iceland... I'm not so sure.

I talked to one of our hosts, Guðni, (who took us out to the movie), and asked him about his thoughts, then explained my own. Guðni was kind enough to let me talk about myself, my experiences, and my thoughts quite a bit. I will leave my opinions to myself for the blog, but will make the reflection that even in a foreign country a person can be brought close to home.

I forgot that we were to post prayers at the end of our posts, thankfully the women were faithful and so I will pick up on their example.

God of All People, I thank You that You are with us in all places and connected to our every being. Thank You for the opportunity to reflect on home in a far away place. Help us to look with love on all people and all of Your creation to see that You are their God and Creator and to treat all of Your creation in that regard. With love for You I pray, Amen.

Reflections on a cell phone

I realize I am supposed to be reflecting on my experiences in Iceland, which are many and amazing. As has been said, the hospitality of our hosts is incredible. We have been welcomed, fed, kept awake, put to sleep, taken swimming, served coffee, served tea, taught to eat ginger cookies with cheese (delicious, by the way), and generally been treated like treasured guests. But many people have already reflected on that, so the funny thing I find myself reflecting on is my cell phone. It’s turned off. Seriously turned off. Not like on vibrate or silent in my bag or off for a flight to be turned on as soon as the flight attendants give the comforting “it is now safe to use portable communication devices” announcement, but completely and totally off. For the next two weeks. I am supposed to be reflecting on Iceland’s culture and stark beauty and experiencing a “profound experience of darkness,” or so said the course description. Above all, I am supposed to be saving myself the outlandish out-of-country charges I would face for using my cell phone in Iceland. All these things I’m sure are happening. But still I notice that my cell phone is turned off.

It is not like I am without communication. The house I am staying at in fact is some sort of a model technology house and literally has wireless internet streaming from the outlets in the wall, so my connection to the internet is actually better and faster than my $10 ATT wireless in Chicago. But still, I find myself feeling a little bit lost without my cell phone. Being cut off from it, I’m realizing my phone has become a bit of a security blanket. I can think of rough times in my life where I have sat on the couch with my cell phone in my hand looking at all the people I could call if whatever it was got bad enough. Oftentimes knowing that in my hand was a list of people I could call at any time was enough to not need to call anyone. Just that realization that people who loved me were out there was enough.

So this trip becomes, for me, about more than just experiencing a new culture in this land of beauty and harsh extremes. Being on this beautiful island in the middle of the north Atlantic, with great internet and no cell phone is also about discovering new ways of connectedness, new ways of remembering my community and my support system. There will be times in ministry where, for one reason or another, there will be no one I can call. There will be things I will have to deal with in life that will be difficult and painful and I will feel alone and that phone will have to sit unopened in my lap. And in those times, maybe I will remember Iceland. I will remember the experience of finding new community in the place where I am. Of learning to eat cheese on cookies, playing Bananagrams with someone who beat me despite playing in his second language and ending up with all the Q’s and X’s, and waking up to a five-alarm sunrise at 10 am. But I will also remember the people across the ocean who remind me that my home and my welcome are still in that place. And I will be glad to remember that the world is small.

Gracious God, whose arms can reach across as vast a space as the ocean and across as small a space as a cell phone. Thank you for the communities we find ourselves in, those we can touch and those we cannot. Amen.