I Couldn't Stop Looking

We headed out of the museum, and we walked towards the Old Church...

I had thought I had seen the Red Light District...but my heart was not prepared for what I was about to see.

We walked through different alleys, and the signs started appearing again...

XXX...

Sex Shop...

Gay Movies...

Porn...

But then it got worse. The signs didn't get worse. It was just that other things started appearing.

We walked down a road: the back of the Old Church on one side, on the other...

Store windows...

Just like any other store...people walked by window shopping...but this was a different type, for there weren't toys on the other side, no musical instruments, no works of art...but there was lingerie.

And it wasn't displayed on mannequins.

It was displayed on women...real women.

Most people looked the other way, focusing on the Old Church, but I couldn't resist. I wasn't drawn to their attraction, their looks...lust was not a focus of the mind.

I was drawn to the brokenness. I looked one of the women in the eye, and she motioned for me to come closer. Motioned to me, a teenager...it was so explicit, so present, so there, and I couldn't stop looking into her eyes...

I saw Christ.

This isn't something to be taken lightly, but we act like it is...we tell jokes about the Red Light District, we joke about rape culture, we joke about all of this...but this is real.

I couldn't focus on anything else I saw...I just remember those eyes...

I saw right through hers, and she saw right through mine.

My heart continually breaks over the stories of the Red Light District. The women of that district are always in my prayers. The place is broken, but don't be deceived into thinking "that place needs Christ". That place has Christ. It just needs us.

We shouldn't be questioning where God is in all of this. We should be questioning where the People of God are in all of this. We should be questioning where we are in all of this.

For more information on human trafficking, particularly the Red Light District and sex slavery, visit enditmovement.com and join the movement.

Jumping Off of a Cliff

Have mercy on me, O God...

according to your steadfast Love,

according to your abundant mercy

blot out my transgressions.

Restore to me the joy of your salvation,

and uphold me with a willing spirit.

                              ~Psalm 51:1, 12~

Two years ago, when talking with my youth pastor back home, he mentioned this phrase of "remembering the joy of our salvation"...He kept talking, but I wasn't really listening. I couldn't get over this phrase...

Return to me the joy of my salvation.

It's a simple phrase...and looking deeper into it, it takes away all ideas of entitlement. This constant remembering...a good friend of mine in Campus Ministry uses the word anamnesis, this bringing back to memory...remembering what once was and living it out today, bringing it back into existence. How powerful testimonies become when we look at their effects...we need to constantly, remind ourselves, remember, reenact.

The Lord, full of steadfast Love and abundant mercy, has the power to give a willing spirit. 

The Mount of Olives

This is a picture I took of the Mount of Olives while in Jerusalem...one side full of rocks, the other full of trees...one side a Jewish cemetery, the other a Christian cemetery...one side the image of death, the other an image of new life. Why do we so easily convince ourselves that there is life on both sides? Why do we not understand that refusing to give up our desires will lead to death...that we need to take the leap over to the other side...

But it's more than just a hop over a wall...

The past five days, I have felt like I was on the edge of a cliff...knowing that deep down, jumping was the right thing to do, knowing that giving my all, surrendering my life, giving up my earthly desires...that this would cause the most happiness in the long-run...why wouldn't you jump?

Because it's still a cliff.

It's not some simple task...even knowing that God has you covered. It's still jumping off of a cliff, and it's not an easy decision. I mean, it's your life. It's you. It's willingly giving up you.

And you can't jump.

It's impossible...

...well, impossible without God.

But God can give you that willing spirit. God can help you jump...

So I jumped...

and I'm not saying that I won't find myself on the edge of a cliff again, but next time, I'll remember jumping off of this cliff. 

And by remembering,

I can jump off of that one.

Appreciative of the Past

As the afternoon approached, we walked over to The Museum of Our Lord in the Attic. Basically, when Catholicism was made illegal shortly after the Reformation, a group of faithful Catholics completely renovated the inside of three apartments and made a church. I was pretty amazed with the place...how elegant they made it look, and even more amazing, how they managed to pull it off. This wasn't just a room in an attic...in fact, it looked absolutely nothing like an attic. From the inside, it appeared to be a church, but from the outside, you would have no idea...

Although the church is no longer active, the museum gave you a lot of information about how the church used to function. It was a pretty interesting tour...you walked around with these little speakers, and then it would give you a two-minute spiel...it was funny because we just all looked like we were talking on the phone:

Talking on our "phones"



I was realy impressed by the church...just the idea of a group of people acting solely on faith, choosing to stand up for what they believe in and go against the laws of the country. I just wish that the church was still active...it's great looking upon the Church that once was, but what about the Church today. If all we have left are museums of churches that are just seen as tourist spots, how are we evangelizing to the people of Amsterdam?



Inside of Our Lord in the Attic



Looking upon the idea of an active faith that once was makes me appreciative of the past, but I want to be hopeful for the future.

Why is This Place So Empty?

After getting some food, we began heading over to the other side of Amsterdam over to the Basilica of St. Nicholas. However, on the way, we passed by a part of the Red Light District. Having recently become a part of the End It Movement, and having recently read Rob Bell's Sex God, the Red Light District seemed all too familiar.

X-Rated Films...Sex Shop...Gay Movie Watch...XXX...

The signs were everywhere, and I'm not really sure why I thought that the Red Light District would be "clean", but I assure you...it's not the case...shabby warehouses, broken off paint, cracked paths, scratched windows, torn-off doors...

But alas, we arrived at the Basilica of St. Nicholas, a fairly large church and also fairly close to to the Red Light District. I used to see churches like that as having somewhat of a "morbid holiness"...this kind of darkness to it that helped me connect with Christ and my spirituality...the candles, the deeply moving hymns...much like what the Tenebrae Service was.

But when I walked into the Basilica, what once would have came off as that "morbid holiness" seemed more like a dead faith. Huge pillars made the place seem mysterious, but not in a spiritual sense. The large and fear-provoking organ cast down a shadow. This dark gloom loomed over the church...the deep marble, having no choir to bring it alive, only added to this feeling of intimidation.

I was upset, frustrated, confused. How can we call this the Church? This doesn't seem warm and inviting, but dark and foreboding. And if I, a believer of Christ, even feel intimidated, how then shall the non-believers feel? How can the sinners not feel ashamed, not feel guilty, not feel worthy to walk in...no wonder we have this expression of getting "struck by lightning" if we walk into a Church as a sinner.


How would the prostitutes feel? Shouldn't this church have rehabilitation programs? Classes to bring people closer to Christ, not large and dark architecture to keep them away. It's time such as these when I want nothing more than to shout out, "God, where are You in all of this?...Why is this place so empty?" But I can't speak falsely...I know He's there.

God isn't missing...the people of God are missing...we are missing, for is not a Church with no believers just a building? God needs His believers, the people that fight for justice, the people that will fight for Him. Hearing of the "sanctity" of the place made me bitter and distressed. I wasn't sure what to think...

All I could do was pray.

Meant to Be Cherished

We arrived in Amsterdam for a 12-hour layover, and for the most part, the world felt pretty surreal. We went through customs and I got my first passport stamp!

First passport!

Afterwards, we went into the terminal where I got my first euros :D

First Euros!

Amsterdam's airport looked really futuristic and clean to me...it was just really different than what I thought it would be. However, Amsterdam itself, was more of what I was expecting...beautiful walkways alongside rivers. 

A beautiful view of Amsterdam

Unfortunately, it was a bit rainy...but it really wasn't all that bad. Our first stop was the Anne Frank House...I got a really deep look into something that I wasn't expecting to get into. The deep feelings of Anne, seen through her diary entries forced me into a world that I knew little about...ignorance truly is bliss. Unfortunately, no pictures were allowed, but I will always remember the things that I saw...what it must have been to live in such a small place for such a long period of time....I can't even imagine.

After the Anne Frank House, we walked through the wet and rainy streets until we found The Pancake Bakery, a delicious and home-cooked, local-style restaurant. Huge pancakes were served...what looked like almost 14" in diameter! I got an omelette that was roughly the same size...let's just say that I am a big fan of Amsterdam's serving sizes :)

My huge omelette

In addition to this, I am a big fan of European coffee in general. You get the weirdest look when you ask for your coffee to-go. It's like it's meant to be cherished, like it's meant to be sipped along with a deep, spiritual conversation...not to mention that it tasted so good! We definitely had fun eating together somewhere local...not like an airport or on the airplane, and it definitely helped us get to know each other better. I'm liking Amsterdam more and more...

A very delicious coffee