Jennifer and I got off to a rather shakey start this morning as Baby Judah “Big Pants” Man was up every hour. That, and I snored whenever I did get a chance to sleep. So whatever little rest I got, Jennifer got even less. (Tonight Mr. Big Pants gets his own chambre at the “church hotel”).
Just before 10am, we took a stroll through the town, dazzling with a fresh layer of snow, and attended a service that welcomed all the churches in the area. The rich Protestant heritage was actually palpable, and a surprising change for me, as most of the old churches I’m used to seeing and or visiting in Europe are establishments of the Roman Catholic Church; unlike the States where Catholicism today is seen as a well-serving sect of Christianity, here it is viewed by Protestant Christians as a longstanding detriment to those seeking salvation. Most Swiss Christians trace their very exsistance to the Huguenots, French Christians who fled France during the Reformation, citing grace as the means of salvation, not ritual, monies, or works. As in most of Europe’s religious clashes, they were not lilly-white, themselves taking up arms at times; but the persecution eventually became so great that they fled, many to Switzerland.
The church was packed out. We sat right underneath the immense organ on the second level (the low end shook my bowels), and entered a few minutes late to the voices of over a thousand people. Unfortunately, Jennifer and I had to leave early as Big Pants Man was not impressed with the meeting, nor the 300+ year old benches we were sitting on (Daddy thought they were cool!).
The three of us found a quaint bakery afterward, and ordered croissants, tea, and cafe du lait (talking about how we wished Christian Fahey was here to tell us about running a bakery, and to talk history!), then got to know the owner, a young, hardworking gal not more than 30. We told her we’re praying for the success of her business and will visit again this week.
Finally, Jenny and Judah stayed back to rest while the team and I headed to the small town of L’Isle where we played for a new church plant. Though small in number, the meeting turned into a time of prophetic ministry and prayer for three teen guys. It was incredibly powerful as we all laid hands on them and spoke over their lives for almost an hour and a half! I had the feeling that if this trip was only for this one encounter, it was all worth it.
Tomorrow morning the School of Worship begins, and I’m preparing my heart and head for my first 3 hour teaching, followed by a 2 hour guitar class. ch: