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On old Berlin churches, breathing walls and speaking stones

This week we visited Zionskirche here in Berlin. It was a rainy and gray day just like many of the winter days here. Though most of the church was under construction a volunteer offered a warm welcome at the entrance hall. Bread and coffee for the weary pilgrim, candles and open doors to the tower and the upper church. Upon entering the upper church over a beat up stairway I could feel its history seeping through its old walls and into my bones. Every crack and peeling paint was a reminder of times gone by, times of peace and upheaval, evil and blessings.

Built by the emperor Zionskirche from early on faced disputes between its more conservative and more liberal wing (sounds familiar?). Later the young Dietrich Bonhoeffer taught here struggling with a rowdy confirmation class. Another 50 years later the peaceful revolution grow under its roof into a movement which brought down the Berlin Wall (more about Zionskirche in English you can find here).

Being back in my home country places like this get me deep in my bones. They trigger memories of my own journey, good and not so good, some I look back with fear and trembling and some with gratitude. All of them are part of the web our stories are stitched from. Every one has a place of cracked walls and stones telling their story which is deeply connected to your own.

Sometimes we enter a building laughing and chatting, busy with other thoughts or conversation, or even with the honest interest to learn about its history eagerly reading or listening to the information offered. But all this keeps our mind from entering the present moment in order to become one with the place.

So here is an invitation for a contemplative walk with us through Zionskirche. You can click on each image to enter into a deeper encounter. May it bring you to the place and moment you need to be.

And as always a blessing. Chuck wrote it for you and us when he read this the post:

Building Zion: A short blessing from Zionskirche

You cannot know if the stone you lay
for a church floor or cellar or
curving winding stairway
will host a martyr’s foot,
blessing it in unregarded passing.
Or support a box of candles used
for prayers for freedom marches.
Or hold a table with a basket of bread
for hungry visitors, and the poor.
But now is the time.

It is in your hands.
You cannot know if you are building Zion.
But build  
and wait
and pray.

Then you, and your work, are blessed,
even before the martyr or candle or bread arrives.

CH