PCUSA Mission

...BRIDGES... Number 8, 2007: Descending into the Garden

Can you imagine attending church every night of the week? If you grew up in an earlier era in a milieu where revival-style services were held for several nights in a row, you may have a sense of this possibility. However, a week-long series of events, which took place at the local church that John and I regularly attend, was of an entirely different sort. I was aware that plans were underway for a “biennial” on behalf of the diaconal center in the Stodůlky district of Prague that is directly related to our congregation. In ordinary times, the pastors and some members of the church periodically visit this center, which provides a work – and in some cases, a living and school – setting for young people with multiple disabilities. Likewise, guests from the center occasionally present special music at worship, and their handcrafted creations are available for purchase following Sunday services before Christmas and Easter. However, the biennial was an extraordinary event, designed to raise a substantial amount of money to restore, improve, and expand the building that houses the center. Indeed, as soon as I entered the sanctuary on Sunday morning, May 18th, I knew that something remarkable was about to occur. An intriguing example of religious art near the worship area seemed to be specially-made for the narrow wall space where it had been hung. Its earth-toned depiction of a benedictory figure enhanced the worship setting in an inviting way. Thus, I was eager to return that evening for the start of the biennial,
which would feature an exhibit of 70 artistic works and a variety of cultural programs.

Although I did not know what the opening festivities would be like, I instantly felt at ease as I wandered through a familiar space that had been transformed from a worship setting into an exhibition hall. I joined a number of other people in gazing at various works of art composed of diverse of styles and media; there were still-lifes, landscapes, abstracts, woodcuts, oil paintings, water colors, photographs, fabric designs, and some creations that I cannot quite describe. In particular, I saw that two of the paintings were the work of Miroslav Rada, the celebrated creator of epic depictions of biblical themes who persisted in developing a unique style throughout the communist era when religious art was not “in favor” in official circles and when his distinctive style was not always appreciated by the Christian community. When synod guests had visited Rada´s atelier earlier in May, I was delighted to see photos of a massive portrayal of Christ’s passion that Rada began to paint a few years ago without knowing if he would have the strength to finish it. He had completed that work in fine form and has begun new projects that continue to reflect the integrity and power of his art. After I hurried to look at Radaˇs highly-valued work, I strolled around the room, letting various pieces of the exhibit claim me as if I were their own.

However before I finished that delightful activity, the master-of-ceremonies drew our attention to the area of the room from which worship is usually conducted. That young seminarian reminded us of the objectives of the biennial before inviting various people to bring greetings. For example, Joel Ruml, the moderator of the Evangelical Church of Czech Brethren, creatively reflected on the biennial’s theme, which invited its guests to “Descend into the
Garden,” in terms of the fact that the sanctuary
where the exhibition was set up is actually a “basement.” Then, a man whom I had often seen on the evening news was introduced. Mr. Karel Schwarzenberg – who had become the Czech Republic’s Minister of Foreign Affairs (Secretary of State) while we were in the United States in 2006 – was wearing his distinctive bow tie and initially seemed to be a bit ill at ease. However, after uttering some official words, he ventured a well-received witticism and warmly affirmed diaconal service.

The words offered by such distinguished guests were important. However, for me, the most memorable aspect of the evening was mediated by “Syrinx,” a flute choir that performed several classical selections. Several young women – who included one of our ministers´ daughters – stood in a semi-circle, and following the lead of an older master performer, drew us into the rhythms of joy and contemplation–and dissonance and harmony–which punctuate our daily lives. The sounds were richer and fuller than any flute music that I have ever heard, and the familiar tones of Debussy’s Claire de Lune cast a deep calm over the packed room. As I left the building I knew that this biennial would provide its participants with extra-ordinary encounters with the textures of light and shadow that characterize the lives of the people who are part of the diaconal center at Stodůlky and every one of us who has been created in the image of the one who declares: “I am the Lord, and there is no other. I form light and create darkness, I make weal and create woe, I am the Lord who do all these things” (Is 45:7).

Posted by Bev at 11:36 AM | Permalink

…BRIDGES… Number 7, 2007: “A Birthday Tribute”
prepared by Joyce Michael for the ECCB’s American Working Group & PC(USA)’s Czech Mission Network

In late April, Professor Jakub Trojan invited me to come to the Protestant Theological Faculty to discuss ways that my translation of his most recent book could be made available to scholars and church people in the United States. As always, I felt honored to be able to enter into a pleasant and productive conversation with this remarkable man. Near the end of our meeting, he reminded me that he would be retiring from his post as professor of ethics in October. “Yes, I just translated an article about you for Czech Mission Network News,” I responded with a smile, before asking a few questions about that detailed tribute to Professor Trojan’s service. My request for clarification felt rather presumptuous, given the intensity of his schedule those days. However, as I asked practical questions regarding the specific years that he had engaged in various activities, Professor Trojan’s demeanor changed, and a thoughtful reverie of remembrance began. I suddenly realized that I was hearing a very personal elaboration on the article that I had translated. For a moment, I wished that I could share that version of Professor Trojan’s story with the readers of Czech Mission Network News; yet, I simultaneously knew that I was being entrusted with a private glimpse into a life that has evinced a rare degree of conviction, perseverance, and faith, which should, perhaps, remain unwritten – except in my memory’s transitory register. However, this evening, one portion of that recollection appears to be clamoring for expression.

After working as a common laborer for a time after his license to be a pastor was revoked by communist authorities, Professor Trojan was given a job in the field of economics prior to his retirement at the age of 62. However, when the Velvet Revolution occurred a few months later, he was invited to teach at the Protestant Theological Faculty, where he was also elected to the post of dean. “It was as if a new beginning had arrived,” he declared, before reporting that he was putting the finishing touches on a lecture that he would be delivering on May 15th at a convocation marking his 80th birthday and up-coming retirement. “My topic is the joy that the study of theology brings. I would like you to be there,” he added. “What a wonderful theme! I most certainly will come,” I exclaimed.

I was delighted when an elegant invitation to that event arrived by post and as John and I entered PTF’s large lecture hall. That room was filled with people who had come to share that landmark day, and my sense of anticipation grew as Dean Martin Prudký gave a thoughtful summary of Professor Trojan’s life and work. Dr. Jíři Halama – who is likely to succeed Dr. Trojan as the chair of the Faculty’s department of ethics – served as the master of ceremonies; Professor Martin Balabán – who recently joined Professor Trojan in publishing a book of poetry – gave a witty response to the lecture; and several people ventured thoughtful questions.

From a remote corner in the lecture hall, I found myself straining to hear what was being said, and I must confess that the content of the proceedings – and of the lecture itself – was largely lost to a crowded room and rather poor acoustics. I have a sense that Professor Trojan contrasted philosophy’s dogged focus on the weighty questions raised by the harsh realities of existence with theology’s distinctive orientation toward the possibility of hope. I have a sense that he stressed that theology is a discipline which is always unfolding. I have a sense that he declared that theology is a source of joy because it is an inherently dialogical endeavor, a communicative process. Yet, I cannot tell you exactly what Professor Trojan said on May 15th. Thus, you may be wondering where I got these ideas, and why I am trying to write about an event that I did not understand completely.

In response, I would suggest that one of the musical selections which members of Professor Trojan’s family performed as a “prelude” to the lecture plunged me into the harsh realities with which Professor Trojan struggled throughout the communist years, even as it mediated the sustaining joy that theology has given him. The music was a dialogue between a poignantly melodic violin part and a discordantly disruptive piano part. How representative of a regime that forcefully violated human dignity at regular intervals, and how affirming of the deep substratum of faith whose resolving tones cannot be silenced by any discordant interlude! I could not hear all of Professor Trojan’s spoken words, but I do know that his very life has exemplified his open-minded and true-hearted approach to the joy of theology. We may be grateful indeed!

Posted by Bev at 11:28 AM | Permalink