To Peregrinate: Deutschland beruft mich ein

And so, I begin my account abroad. I warn you. There is not much to tell as of yet, for if I could summarize the activity thus far in the trip, the bent of my physical body is to overcome jet lag, while that of my mind and spirit is to cope with the pangs of such a phenomenon. Each day, my body brings a wildly unique experience to bear upon the day's circumstances, whether it be an acute sense of sleep deprivation, or a feigned stomach disorder from indigestion... or again, exhaustion. One might wonder: He has done this before quite a few times. Is he not use to, if not immune to, these symptoms through experience? The answer my friends, is that jet lag has a seemingly innocuous face in its beginning stages, and it retains a mild expression throughout its duration only to rear its ten-fold horned heads in a mighty siege of the senses, and ultimately your consciousness, when you expect it the least. My best recommendation whilst wrangled in its clutches: Do your very best not to sleep until the proper nighttime hours, but otherwise, don't fret losing two to three days at the beginning of your trip from sheer drowsiness.

Of course, the fact that my Uncle Adam and I went to see the Dark Knight last night, for what was my third viewing and his first, probably did not aid in my recovery at all. It was a late showing, the crowd had packed itself into the kleine kino for an English showing of the movie. This seems to be a trend here in Germany, and perhaps in mainland Europe as a whole. Most people with whom I have spoken, even the ones who struggle with their English, prefer to watch a movie in its original language. Apparently, when translated, the films lose a familiar touch, especially when the voices are noticeably different from the originals and the humor loses its punch with the direct translation. But the movie seemed to be well received all around.

But the memory here in Germany that will endure the longest throughout this entire trip abroad, I think, is the short journey I made today to the Dome, or Cathedral, here in Cologne. Now if you would please forgive the following sentiments of ethereal nostalgia, I will attempt to reconcile a somewhat descriptive narrative.

There is no point in trying to describe your first inclination as you approach the seemingly unfathomable building, with its grotesque yet bewitching twin spires surrounded by an entanglement of buttresses that weave their way around the entire structure. The building without proper walls rests its entire weight upon these noble pillars of stones which I cannot name and at intervalic angles that I cannot calculate. They rise without apparent end nor need for justification. Between these immaculate titans are housed the largest stain glass windows I have ever seen, and may ever see, in my life. Together, along with the faithful ebbing and flowing of buttresses, one is nearly overwhelmed by the sight. The exterior rises in a daunting manner and graces an increasingly modernized skyline with an immovable presence; however, I believe it is the interior which truly humbles and provides nourishment for a mind with a respect for history, as well as room to ponder the purpose of such a magnificent architectural feat.

You enter the massive doors and, if you can block out the noise from the tourists, the information stands riddled with pamphlets, and the flashing of the Kodaks and the Canons, you can make out the member of the clergy lighting the candles and arranging the elements in preparation for the evening mass. The building remains a church and many locals come to pray and take mass within the majestic confines of the cathedral. Relics and displays accompanying the different prayer and meditation stations were absolutely breathtaking. Murals depicting scenes from scripture and church history provided the ornamentation of crypts and burial sites of renowned leaders of the Diocese.

And amid all of this, I wondered at this marvelous creation of man. I wondered what would prompt its concept and construction. Often, I believe in my heart that I look down in contempt upon the ornate and rich material world of Catholicism, and in the proper context, it is right to say that a building, a relic, or an artifact ought to give way to what we know to be truth: God dwells no longer in tents and temples, but in the hearts of those he saves, and Christ's crucifixion is not to be worshipped but merely understood, along with his resurrection, to be the foundational crux of our faith. However, I want to propose that, perhaps with the proper mindset in place, the construction of such a beautiful work of architecture, when done in the name and to the glory of our Father in Heaven, is a wondrous notion. In the old testament, particularly in Exodus, we see our Lord give specific instructions for the construction of His temple, as well as his assignment of different individuals to the task of creative artistic design:

Exodus 31:1-6
Then the LORD said to Moses, "See, I have chosen Bezalel son of Uri, the son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah, and I have filled him with the Spirit of God, with skill, ability and knowledge in all kinds of crafts- to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, to cut and set stones, to work in wood, and to engage in all kinds of craftsmanship. Moreover, I have appointed Oholiab son of Ahisamach, of the tribe of Dan, to help him. Also I have given skill to all the craftsmen to make everything I have commanded you:

This account references artists as well as the God given ability to work with ones hands. I respect the artistry of such creations as the Dome in Cologne. And though they are not be worshipped, I think that we can honor their history by visiting and marveling at their beauty, if not for their own history's sake, then for the sake of God's glory, as he used the periods and the movements within that history to accomplish his sovereign will.

The next time I write, I will be writing from what most consider to be the birthplace of western culture. Auf Deutsch es ist heisst: Griechenland. But in English we know it as: Greece.

Peace to you all.