Here, it couldn't be more different. Now naturally, Kirsten's not going to be taking us places, leading us off the train, and cheerily announcing that she has just brought us to the middle of nowhere with no history or importance at all, but in a country this old, it's not exactly a struggle to find historically significant things. As Tommy mentioned, we spent Saturday in Leipzig, exploring the city where Bach wrote his songs and led the Thomas Church Boys' Choir. We saw remnants of the Stasi East German past.
Today, we went to Wittenberg (officially renamed Wittenberg-Lutherstadt now - Wittenberg-Luther city) and walked through the house where Luther lived, raised his children, and discussed theology with his students. We saw the tower where he had his epiphany about being saved by grace, rather than works, and took pictures of the oldest remaining copy of "A Mighty Fortress is Our God" and first editions of his translated Bible. We walked through the church where he was married, visited his grave, stood before the altar where he once served communion.
It's amazing to be somewhere with such a rich and diverse history. To think that the things I saw, the house and churches I walked through today, are older than my country is really mind-boggling. Reading the descriptions and history laid out in the Luther museum made me wonder at how things would have been different with just a few changes. What if Luther's father hadn't struck it rich in copper mining and been able to send his son to school? What if Luther had stayed inside, toasty warm, and hadn't been terrified during the thunderstorm which made him decide to become a monk instead of a lawyer? He wasn't the only reformer - someone else would have challenged the Catholic church sooner or later. But would it have been the same? Would it have led to the fundamental change in Christianity that Luther did, or would it have been squelched? What would have happened had people not had diverse Christian views? Would America even be a country? Would it be the same? I think it's fascinating to think about, even if I know I can't answer the questions and each attempt just prompts another question.
Now we're back in Berlin, where in addition to the obvious history - monuments, museums, memorials - there are little details which shove history into your every day life. Walking the streets, I sometimes suddenly notice that the Ampelmann, the famous East German crosswalk man whose hat-clad figure has earned a cult following, is gone, replaced by a different green person ushering me across the street. With this discovery comes the realization that I am no longer in former East Berlin, but am now in the west, and once again I am thrown into questions and pondering and attempts to imagine what it must have been like. For the citizens of the GDR, my experience would be unthinkable. Not noticing that you've passed into West Berlin for who knows how many blocks? Ha. For those few who could leave, it was not an easy process where one might just waltz across the border without noticing.
There's also the Street of the 17th of June, which honours those who died in the 1953 East German workers' uprising, which was viciously squelched by the GDR and the Soviets. I've not turned onto it very many times, but when I do, it's a bit touching, a deliberate action by the West Germans to remember their East German sisters and brothers while a wall divided them.
I am constantly reminded of the two-sidedness of history. Liepzig has its rich musical past, and the Nikolaikirche, where peace vigils and non-violent protest brought down the East German regime. The peace vigils, though, wouldn't be necessary if not for the tyrannical rule of the GDR leadership - the lovely story of thousands coming together has a dark side, because peaceful though it was, they were coming together to fight something.
Wittenberg was fascinating, the opportunity to see firsthand things from Luther's life unbelievable, but there was a dark side here, too. Mingled in with the talk of people being saved through faith and grace, of people being able to communicate directly with God without the need for indulgences or papal intervention, I saw anti-Jewish sentiments and a painting in which clerical higher-ups and a Turk are being thrown to hell while Luther looks on approvingly. The church where Luther was married, a beautiful, peaceful place with amazing history tucked subtly into its altar and walls, has a depiction on the outside of the Hebrew name for God paired with images of pigs, which the Jews consider unclean - the beautiful, peaceful building also contains a horrible insult to the Jews.
It's been a thoughtprovoking, fascinating trip so far, and I look forward to the next few weeks, even though I'm sure they will prove just as difficult. I can't understand the sort of intolerance and prejudice some of this history displays; it just doesn't make sense to me to persecute gays or drive Jews from cities or kill them en masse, and it's hard to fathom how those sorts of things could even enter someone's mind as a good idea.
On an unrelated, cheerier note, it's surprising how fast a place can feel like home. As we arrived back in the Berlin main train station today, it was nice to be back to familiarity and confidence. Several of us discussed how this feels like home - Katie said it's like having tons of layers of home: our hostel in Liepzig was home when we were cold and tired and wondering when we'd be going home, but Berlin was "home home" when it needed to be clarified, and then obviously PLU is where we'll be going home to later, and beyond that we each have our homes with our parents. Confusing as that may sometimes feel, to have loyalties and fondness for so many places, it's nice. We got off the train, headed down the escalators, and all knew what train or subway we needed, how to get to the right platform for that train, and how to get "home".
comments:
There are currently no comments.
Post a Comment