Missions Textbook 4
Learn to Evangelize Austrians

We Never Saw It Coming: An Introduction to Christian Missions (textbook)

Autumn 1980 – Learning to Evangelize

When we arrived in Austria, I don’t think we really knew how we were going to reach out to Austrians with the Good News of salvation through Jesus Christ. We knew that if we mastered the German language, we would at least avoid the disrespect paid to those missionaries who relied upon the Austrians’ English ability. We had been told to learn German in one area and then move to a new one so that our earlier mistakes would not be held against us. We quickly learned, however, that giving everyone a good laugh over our continued attempts to conquer their language was a great way to build rapport and eventually friendships.

We met Volker one early evening as we were wandering around the back streets of Graz, searching for a tiny movie theater that was showing the Disney movie, “One Hundred and One Dalmatians” in German. Volker heard us talking to each other in English, and because he wanted to practice his English, he asked us if we needed help. He showed us the theater, and then Floyd discovered that he was studying English at the Translator’s Institute, where Floyd planned to enroll in the fall. They decided to meet regularly to help each other with languages.

In a discussion about why we were in Austria at all, Floyd just decided to ask Volker if he had ever read the Bible. The Conversation, which would repeat itself dozens of times in the following years, sounded something like this:

“Have you ever read the Bible?”

“Of course not.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s an old, antiquated religious book.”

“There are many old books worth reading.”

“True, but the Bible is irrelevant.”

“How do you know that if you haven’t read it?”

Shrug.

“It’s a best seller. If you call yourself educated, perhaps you ought to know what’s in it.”

“Okay. What’s in it?”

“I think we ought to read it together. Then you can say you know first-hand.”

“Just tell me what’s in it.”

“Why should you believe me? Why don’t we just read it together?”

“I have so many studies. I don’t have time.”

“We could read over lunch. You have to eat lunch. Besides, I really would like to read it in German and learn to understand Luther’s wonderful German. You do know, don’t you, that the German language was first standardized when Luther translated the Bible from Greek and Hebrew into German?”

“I didn’t know that.”

“How about Wednesday at lunch? Christine will make us lunch and you can teach me what the Bible says in German.”

“No. Wednesdays won’t work because I meet with my study group.”

“Monday? Tuesday?”

Laughter. “Okay. Tuesday.”

The First Bible Study

Floyd knew the Gospel of John pretty well, or at least he thought he did. One glance at the first chapter, however, convinced him that he could not teach Volker anything in German. Besides, if he wanted Volker to teach him German, he would have to come up with a different plan. He decided to write several questions for each Bible verse, beginning consecutively at the beginning of John. These questions would be designed to drive Volker to the verse to find the answer to the questions.

Language school prepares you to attend school, go shopping, find the train, meet friends, order beer, and ask where the bathroom is. Nothing prepares you for biblical words and concepts. Floyd worked really hard that week, preparing questions for the first thirteen verses in John 1.

Volker came to lunch and after they ate, Floyd pulled out his questions, gave Volker a Bible, and then they read the first few verses in German. Volker corrected Floyd’s pronunciation. Then Floyd read his first question that he had prepared so carefully.

“That’s not German,” Volker stated bluntly.

It’s not easy to insult Floyd, so he asked, “How should I say it?”

Volker reworded the question.

Floyd wrote down the now grammatically correct question. “So what is the answer to the question from verse one?”

Volker fixed that question too and then looked at the Bible. He gave an answer, but Floyd didn’t understand all of it. Volker was willing to say it in English, but Floyd refused.

Instead he asked the next question, Volker corrected it, Floyd wrote down the correction and asked what the answer to the question was. If Volker didn’t look at the Bible, Floyd asked him if that was what was in the verse. If Volker said he didn’t believe it, or had other comments, Floyd simply went on to the next verse. He was incapable of explaining anything from the Bible in German. Eventually, Floyd learned to say wisely and often, “Interesting,” which in German is “Interessant.”

Once they finished the verses for that week, Floyd helped Volker with his English, which was far advanced to Floyd’s German ability.

Volker came every week until summer break. At that point he seemed to trickle out of our lives, and by autumn was not interested in meeting anymore.

In the meanwhile, Floyd had gotten up the courage to ask another young man to read the Bible with him. This time, when Floyd asked the first question, the young man said, “Wow! Your question is really good!”

“So what’s the answer to the question?” And another Bible study was started.

In Hebrews 4:12, we read that God’s word is living and powerful, unlike any other book on the face of the earth. We were about to learn how powerful and alive it really is.

People in Our Lives, February 25, 1981

Dear Sue,

Thank you so much for the Valentine’s cards you sent the boys. They really enjoy getting mail. We appreciate so much your love and concern for Erich and Michael. And they really love you and Dave.

Today is clear after about four days of light snow. Everything is white and clean, but melting fast (the snow, I mean; not ‘everything!’) The fresh snow outside the window is pitted by the drips from the trees. Funny little finches are flitting around chirruping gaily. Spring can’t be far away. Our coal supply is dwindling, although we still have plenty of wood. And the sun is back on our house for about an hour per day. Every once in a while, a large piece of snow falls off the roof with a ‘thunk.’

Even as everyone has been writing us that Bill and his family have moved to Germany as missionaries, Bill himself called and came to visit for three days. It was a good time visiting with someone with similar goals from ‘back home’ Our wood needed to be cut into stove-sized pieces, so one afternoon, he and Floyd did all of it.

He and his family are planning a trip to Portland in May, and they are bringing a tape he made and some pictures. He asked some very pointed, specific questions, many of the answers to which you may hear from him. We don’t, however, want the leaders in our church at home to feel we are unhappy and sent Bill to deliver the message. His mission board requires him to raise twice as much money as we need to live on. Living in Austria is more expensive but simpler than living in Germany, I think. Building a fire every morning is time-consuming and, at times, irritating, but we went through a real crisis a while back of whether we should move or not. Our final decision was ‘not,’ because of many reasons. We really believe that God provided this house for us for now, and until it seems clear that God wants us to move, we stay.

We are always grateful to you folks at the church who give to us so generously. We know that you and Dave give, and we thank God for you. You know Floyd well enough to know that if his family didn’t have enough money for food, clothing, etc., he’d do something about it.

I was out on the steps at about 9am yesterday shoveling snow. The neighbor lady was doing it too. I went out because I saw her out there and hadn’t had an opportunity to say more than ‘hi’ since the disastrous Christmas party. Did I write you about that? Very briefly, they invited us to their party, kept pushing alcohol on us (which we refused), and at one point, her husband suggested that it might be fun for Floyd to take his wife home, and I could stay with her husband for the night. We left shortly after. So sad.

Anyway, we finished shoveling at the same time (I saw to that!) and chatted for a minute. Then I asked her to come down for tea. She said, “No, I can’t. I have to fix lunch. Petra will be home at one. Maybe some other time.” Lunch – at 9am? Maybe she’s more diligent, than I, but I suspect I was being avoided. I think conviction has arrived, bringing with it fear to spend time with us.

Along that same line, I have been asked to share a devotional at the next ladies’ Bible study at the church here. I decided to study Martha, and I am learning so much. I’ll share more in my next letter. However, my tutor has been on vacation and I’m just plain scared of showing her my work and beginning to translate it with her. It seems like the most fool-proof way to chase her off, and I really care about her and don’t want to do that. Please keep praying! I’ll probably see her in one or two weeks.

Love, Christine

Me? Teach? Not a Good Idea!

I can hardly believe it now, but we had been in Graz less than a year when the leaders of the ladies’ Bible study asked me to lead the devotions at their monthly meeting. They should have known better: They were the seasoned missionaries; I was the novice. I decided to study Mary and Martha and compare them. I wrote the lesson out in English and then began translating it. I had lost my first tutor because she was uncomfortable with our faith. We didn’t preach at her, but she had to come into our home and had seen how we lived. I found another tutor – a Belgian woman who had grown up in Canada. She spoke Flemish, German, French, and English. She was married and they had a little girl.

I asked her if she would help me with the translation, which meant she would have to read the devotional. I was excited, but I know now what I didn’t know then: that translating is a bad idea. By the time we were finished with it, I could hardly understand the German because the sentence constructions were so complicated. The specialized vocabulary presented me with words I could not easily pronounce.

One of the largest groups of women assembled on that evening – presumably to hear the foreigner. I had decided to simply read my presentation. As I got further into it, my tongue got tired of pronouncing the difficult words, and I wished I had written a five-minute devotion. Because I could not understand much of what I was reading, I could not figure out a way to end it sooner. I think it lasted over half an hour. They were all very kind and praised me, but I learned a really important lesson. Do not presume to teach until you truly have something to say and can say it well in their language. This actually proved beneficial, however, as we eventually would be hosting short-term mission teams and training new missionaries.

This was so different from Floyd’s evangelistic Bible studies, where he had cast himself as the learner and the Austrians as the teachers. I have since learned that even Bible studies with believers were much more effective if I asked questions and allowed the “learners” to discover their own answers in the Scripture.

How Will This Affect Our Boys?

Dear Sue,

The other night we had some real solid encouragement of Erich’s spiritual growth. While I was cleaning up the kitchen after supper, Erich and Michael were listening to a Christian music record [that’s old-fashioned for YouTube music, without pictures!] upstairs. I finished and listened to ‘one more song’ with them on my lap. Then it was bedtime. Erich said it made him sad that Jesus had to die and hurt so much. We talked about it, and I took the opportunity of once sharing with him the Gospel. But he made it really clear that he was certain that Jesus is his Savior.

After lights were out, I went back in to check on them, and Erich was crying. It had just touched his heart and he felt the same sorrow that does us all good to feel now and then. We praise God for this evidence of a tender heart!

There were times, however, when we wondered if it was fair for us to make sacrifices that would have such a major influence on their upbringing. Erich was going to be tall, and would never get to play high school basketball. They would miss out on all the sports and high school events (not that our high school years held many happy memories, but the known is always more desirable than the unknown). More importantly, there were no children their ages who were believers or had believing parents. Would our children leave our faith because of loneliness?

I wrote Sue about my feelings. Every year, Multnomah School of the Bible in Portland holds a big missionary conference. Sue made the effort to attend that year, and she interviewed as many missionary kids as she could find. Then she wrote me a wonderful letter to assure me that none of the young people she talked to felt deprived or disadvantaged. In fact, they felt richer. Many were bi- or tri-lingual, had seen parts of the world few North Americans see, and they had learned to serve others with joy and to trust God for their daily needs. I wish I still had her letter.

Dear Sue,

You wrote about doing our ministry as a family. We’ve had to tell Erich that he must not ask our adult friends things like, “How come you’re not a Christian?” We’ve had a couple interesting incidents! But anyway, at lunch, Erich asked if we’d told any of our friends about Jesus. We assured him we had. He was indignant. “Well, I want to be a part of this too. Can I tell my friends?” We were excited. On the spot, he translated John 14:6 into German and said he’d tell his religion class!

That summer, we sent Erich to a kids’ camp in the mountains for a week. Initially, he was very excited to go. However, once there, surrounded by all German and a new culture and unfamiliar food, he cried himself to sleep and hung out on the perimeters of the activities during the day. The leaders were kind to him, but when we found out how unhappy he had been, we really wished they had called us. He didn’t go to camp again until he was in high school, and he didn’t enjoy that either.

More English Speakers!

A few years before we arrived in Graz, Janice had been sent from England to Austria to begin a student ministry under the auspices of the International Fellowship of Evangelical Students, more commonly known as InterVarsity. By the time we arrived, she had a group of fifty students meeting every week. She had taught them to evangelize their fellow students, and the students were leading their own ÖSM – The Austria Student Mission. Now the students were doing most of the work, and Janice was advising them. Some of her early converts were already becoming leaders in their churches.

Floyd was excited to see the work going so well, and wanted to help any way he could and learn from the students. Once his German was fluent enough, he was often asked to be a conference speaker when they held their annual, week-long conference at the Mittersill Castle in the mountains at the beginning of each summer.

Janice attended the same church we did, and she was one of the first people who noticed that our ministry was on a collision course with ministry of the German missionaries in the church. (More on that later.)

Janice introduced us to another man, who would become a good friend, Dr. John Lennox. Many of you Readers now know him as the man who debates famous atheists – a brilliant defender of the faith. You can find him on the internet. Back then, he was a math professor at the University of Cardiff in Wales. He speaks several languages fluently, including German, and uses his math credentials to open doors for him to speak to influential people all over Europe about the viability of the Gospel. Janice arranged for us to invite him to lunch while he was in Graz for a conference with the Austrian Student Mission. She built him up so much that we were completely in awe before we met him. We instructed the boys to call him Dr. Lennox and told them they were to disappear and play quietly.

John arrived at our front door, and surprised us all by not being an ancient, doddering professor. He bent down to play a quick finger game with Michael, who by this time was around four. He wasn’t at all scary, and the boys found him engaging and funny. He was only slightly older than Floyd, had a wife and young family of his own, and Floyd found in him an intellectual challenge that delighted him.

We attended the conference and were deeply encouraged by his Bible teaching. We had rarely heard anything so scripturally-based and yet so practical. At this point, his German was better than ours, but we were able to understand and feast from God’s word.

Early Discipleship

Floyd’s determination to learn German well and to train Austrians to study and love the Bible led to his “leading” a Bible study in the home of one of the Austrian elders in the church. Siegfried and Hannelore were such gentle, loving people. They would prepare a cake and hot tea for their guests, and then their younger daughters – they had four daughters – would play with our boys during the Bible study.

Siegfried had no confidence as a Bible teacher, although he knew the word of God well. Floyd’s purpose was to help him learn to teach and have the confidence in his teaching. Hannelore was a jolly, outgoing lady, who loved the Lord and was a diligent homemaker.

I wrote to Sue:

I think I discovered the reason why Hannelore doesn’t come to church ever. They have a tiny, four-passenger car, similar to ours’, and simply can’t squeeze 6 people into it. It’s kind of awkward to ask, “Why don’t you go to church ever?” but if we could help, we’d like to. The only problem is that they live south of Graz, we live north of Graz, and the church is in east Graz. We’d have to leave an hour early in order to pick one of them up and it’s not exactly on the way! Oh, well – if only all our problems were so small. Anyway, we’ve really enjoyed getting to know them.

Missionaries are Human, Too

Sue, I’m excited for you in your prayer time. I wish I could do the same. I know I should, but I have very little motivation and I don’t know what to pray about. I pray as thoughts come to mind and as I write letters. Our life style is so disorderly – nothing is ever the same. It’s difficult to plan anything because next week, everything will change anyway. How do you do it . . .?

I feel very vulnerable expressing my regrets at not having a better prayer life. Coming over here has not changed me very much. I still suffer from an appalling lack of diligence. I have a Quiet Time most days because I enjoy it. I love to write, and expressing my thoughts from the Bible on paper feeds me spiritually and I love it. But I still wonder sometimes if I’m the person for this job. I’m still afraid of people. I’m weary of school – Since I was 5 years old, some outside force has been changing my schedule every 5 months, dictating where I’ll be and when. I’m almost 30 with no end to this uncertainty in sight. I know, because I’ve read it and heard it hundreds of times – that we will be mostly ineffective here if I don’t pray – really pray. Maybe I’m afraid of what God might do. Look at all the opportunity that has come to us with only sporadic prayer. Can we possibly be busier? Do we want to be? Anyway, I’d love to hear more of your thoughts on prayer. I really want to pray more . . .. I don’t know why I don’t.

Summer 1981 – A Visit from My Sister!

I have two sisters and we have always been very close. We decided to invite Marian to spend the summer with us. It was wonderful to see her, and she brought presents from many of our friends, especially the baseball pajamas for the boys from ‘Aunt Sue and Uncle Dave.’

It was warm now; no more fire-building! Marian took over some of the yard work, so Floyd would not suffer from asthma so much. She painted the bathroom, washed dishes and babysat for us occasionally. We had cherry trees in the yard, so we picked all of the cherries and made jars and jars of jam. We went strawberry-picking and made more jam – and strawberry-rhubarb pie. The boys adored her, and she loved to read stories to them and they loved her to read to them.

When the neighbor lady invited Marian and me to tea, Marian made a discovery that improved my German considerably. Because she could not understand German, she would just listen to the sounds, but she noticed that I sprinkled my German sentences with the filler, “you know,” in English. It took some practice, but eventually I learned German filler words.

A few weeks into Marian’s stay, she went swimming with a group of the Austrian students from the InterVarsity Bible study. She broke a finger on her right hand and had a hard time understanding why that happened. She had come to Graz, wanting to serve and help us, but couldn’t do much without her right hand. We really didn’t learn of her disappointment until years later, but it hadn’t bothered us as it bothered her.

During that time, Floyd was asked to speak at the International Teams Missions conference in the mountains. We were all invited. Schloss Mittersill is a lovely old 16th century castle in the middle of the mountains in the province of Tyrol. Floyd spoke in English – although in the coming years, he would speak at the InterVarsity student conferences in German. I spoke to the ladies and read encouragement from Sue’s letters. Marian babysat all of the children – not just for the meetings, but anytime the parents wanted a little time for themselves. We all had a wonderful time and got to see a new part of Austria. It just got more and more beautiful.

Marian’s splint finally came off her finger and although it was stiff and bent, she was thrilled to be able to use her right hand again.

Toward the end of the summer, we took a vacation to Greece. We took Marian with us, although she only had a few days of vacation left. The drive was a bit grueling (more on that later), but the warm breezes and crystal-clear waters of Chalkadiki were worth the trip. She flew home to Portland from Thessaloniki, Greece. All in all, it was such a gift and joy to have her with us for the summer.

Time to Move Again

Although we had decided to ‘tough it out’ in our old-fashioned house, several Austrian believers had recognized that Floyd could do more ministry if he didn’t have to spend so much time collecting and chopping firewood, scything our mountain, and shoveling snow and coal. They began to encourage him to look for a residence that would not demand so much upkeep. They assured us there were many. It was very difficult, however, to find a place that was not being mediated by a company that would charge us the equivalent of three month’s rent, besides the first and last month’s rent, and a security deposit. We just did not have that kind of money. A second way to find a place was to read the newspaper and find a place that would ask for a huge first installment, but then the rent was low because the renter had already paid for it in the installment. This was actually illegal, but was done much of the time. The third way was to know someone who knew someone who had a place to rent. This was rare.

Gradually word got around as we told people we were warming to the idea of moving. We looked at a few houses and apartments, but really hadn’t seen anything that we really felt comfortable with. Either it was too far out of the city – and we were tired of living that way – or it had no furniture.

By no furniture, I mean four empty walls: no kitchen cupboards, no appliances, no closets, and no light fixtures. Rentals were generally rented this way, and when someone moved out, they took everything they had bought to furnish their place. Again, we didn’t have the money to replace all those things.

One day, Floyd was in the Christian bookstore, and the dear ladies who had told us about the house on Floyd’s first day in Graz were so excited that they knew of a beautiful apartment to rent. They insisted that we go see it right away and take it at once.

It was on the opposite side of Graz in a large apartment house complex. There was a kindergarten and an elementary school right there, a playground in full view of the apartment, lots of parking, a grocery store, bus stop, and bank one block away, and beautiful landscaping.

The apartment was on the sixth floor, with a small elevator, and it was beyond our wildest dreams. Polished wood floors in the living room, carpeted bedrooms – three of them – lots of closets in the hallway, a large balcony off the living room and kitchen. And the kitchen! Completely furnished, with a dishwasher, table, benches, and even the curtains. Miraculously, the heat came from somewhere deep in the building; all we would have to do is turn on the radiator in each room.

There had to be a catch.

Similar to condominiums, most of the apartments in the complex were owned by the people who lived in them. The family who owned this one had just recently moved out. They had built a house and wanted to keep this apartment for their children who were still in elementary school. So they decided to rent it out. And the price was very reasonable: none of the above-mentioned fees.

We had been in other homes – that of the German missionary couple, also Siegfried and Hannelore’s, and of course all of our neighbors near the old house. This was the nicest place we had seen yet. Did we dare take it? Would we be living in a place that was too nice and that would hamper our ministry?

We told them that we loved the place, and if we rented it, we would need it for the whole, legally-permitted five years. However, we wanted to think about it and pray about it, and we would let them know in two weeks – after we returned from our vacation to Greece. We felt that would give God time to shut the door, if it was not the right place for us.

Everyone told us we were crazy – that they would find someone else to rent it. But they said they would hold the apartment for us. We went to Greece, came back, and found that they had indeed waited for us. We thanked God and rented it.

So, You Want to Hear About Greece?

I don’t know if this is still true, but when we were in Austria, many European countries required companies to provide their people with 2-4 weeks of paid vacation. Our second summer we discovered that we would not be able to keep the evangelistic Bible studies going because everyone would be on vacation. Floyd was very good at saving money, and we had often walked past the colorful windows of travel bureaus. Finally, we dared to go in and pick up a few brochures – glossy magazines depicting hundreds of sunny vacation spots for every budget. We pored over them. The crystal-clear waters of the Aegean, Adriatic, and Mediterranean Seas beckoned, and after a long, gray winter, we longed for that blazing sunshine. Austrian friends encouraged us to go, saying that since we were not used to the winters and bad air in Graz, we really needed to go somewhere really warm with clean air for our health.

Greece was the closest, non-Communist country with warm seawater. We booked two weeks and planned to drive through Yugoslavia. My sister, Marian, was still visiting, so we crammed her and the two boys into the backseat of our tiny Fiat and drove straight through from Graz to the peninsula of Chalkadiki. I regret to say that Marian and I complained a lot of the heat and discomfort, and I really wanted us to stop for an overnight stay somewhere. Floyd, however, had the stamina to keep going. Marian only had three days left, and he didn’t want to waste one of those in the wilderness of Yugoslavia.

We finally arrived, exhausted and grumpy, but the balmy breezes, the warm, crystal-clear waters, and the delicious Greek dinner chased away our bad attitude. We ate on a patio overlooking the sea, as the red sun slowly sank behind the hills.

The two rooms were very simply furnished, and our breakfast and supper were provided. We had brought toys for the boys and books for us to read, but generally we did whatever we felt like doing for the whole two weeks. Erich learned to swim because he wanted to snorkel. Michael played in the shallow waves. The sandy beach was beautiful except after one storm that blew in a gazillion poisonous jellyfish the size of teacups.

Even on vacation we were dealing with cultural issues. First, because we had booked in Graz, everyone at the hotel spoke German. Second, the shop windows were filled with obscene little figurines of men with giant genitalia. Floyd and I would always walk in front of the boys and try to steer them away. We never did figure out what that was all about. Third, dinner was served from 8pm to midnight. Around noon, we would go out into the village to try to find a snack. The shops were never open and the fountains were dry, and soon we surmised that our hotel was so inexpensive because the village was dying. By 8, we were starved, and would always be the first family to arrive at our dining room for supper. We would eat and then, exhausted from the heat of the day, collapse into bed by 9:30.

One day, I recognized a poster with pictures of a Disney film. We couldn’t read Greek, but the date and time were clear. It would be shown at 9:30pm in our little village. We had the boys take a nap that day, ate our “early” supper, and wandered into the village to look for the theater. What a surprise! The village was bustling. The shops were all open. The cafes were full. The fountains were splashing. Children ran and played everywhere in the main square. Greek music filled the air.

The film was shown outdoors on a huge piece of canvas. As I recall, it was in English with Greek subtitles, which was such a treat for us all. When it ended, we went back out into the village, still alive with bright lights and music and delicious smells coming from every café. The children were all still up, screaming and laughing, although it was now after 11pm.

After that delightful evening (and Floyd’s enlightening conversation with one of the Greek waiters), we began to take a long rest during the hot afternoons. Then we would eat supper and stay up late to enjoy the cooler evenings.

For Floyd and me, one of the highlights of the trip was going to Saloniki – Thessalonica. This was one of the cities where the apostle Paul planted a new church of Christians. The story is told in Acts 17. We thought it would be fun to find a bookstore and buy a Greek Bible. Sadly, we discovered that it was not possible because, according to one bookstore owner, there were none to be purchased in the entire city. Who would buy them? All of a sudden, Floyd wanted to be a missionary in Greece!

Hitting the Ground, Running!

We had just returned from Greece and went shopping to replenish our supplies. As we drove up to our new apartment building and were unloading the groceries, a voice behind us said in English, “Hello, you guys!”

We spun around, and across the street were Horst and Larissa, a German couple – and good friends – from our home church in Portland. Puzzled, I turned again to look at our address. Where was I?

They had come to southern Germany to visit relatives and decided to visit us as well. What a surprise! We were able to show them our new apartment, of which they approved, and we were able to send messages and letters back to Portland with them. They brought treats from the States for us, and we had a lovely time.

During their visit, we heard that the German missionary was in the hospital and had nearly died from gall stone surgery. Floyd went to visit him and assured him that we would do what we could to help the church. Floyd wrote to Sue’s husband, Dave:

I was the only one who visited with his wife during the touch and go period. He’s been here 10 years, and no one knows what to say to him when he’s down. We’re going to start meeting once a week if possible after he gets out of hospital. He told me that he thought I had lots of patience having lived in that house for 16 months and all the gardening . . ..

One positive thing has come of his illness. One of the elders (an Austrian) has had to take over the leadership, and he has found that he is able. There’s really no one else qualified, even close to being an elder, except some younger men, so it will take a while before the church really has more leadership.

When Paul the Apostle went to Ephesus, there were no believers. He left after 3 years, and he left a church with leaders. It only took him three years to produce elders and they may have been in their late twenties. I wonder how he did it?

. . . I will be teaching Ephesians starting October 1st, and am busily studying it in German, writing everything out. When the day arrives, I will spend the whole day reading over what I’ve written in an effort to know it well enough in German that I don’t have to read it. If I don’t die from the strain, I should improve my German and speaking ability a 1000% within the next few months.

The German missionary has said he would love to correct my German before I speak – to help me out and to learn how I think! He’s been trained in a German Bible School, but I don’t think he learned how to get a church to run with a plurality of elders. He’s an excellent counselor. I expect to learn lots from him, and with God’s grace, he will learn from me.

There’s a New Name Written Down in Glory!

Dear Sue,

Today is another bitterly cold, damp, foggy day. As usual, it’s beautiful, sunny and warm in the mountains – so the weatherman says. We are so thankful for our warm apartment this winter. Last winter was comparatively warm and we were still cold in that house.

Our Christmas was really very nice. Let’s see . . . On December 6, European children celebrate St. Nikolas Day. I tried to find out who Nikolas was, but he ‘lived’, perhaps, in 300AD and might even be a legend. The parents teach that if the children are very good, St. Nick will bring sweets and oranges and little toys to put in their boots on December 6th. If they are bad, a frighteningly ugly, evil devil – named Krampus – will come, put the children in a sack, and take them away. In some of the smaller towns, the young people go through town, frightening the children by clanking chains against their front doors. And the parents say, “Be good, or I’ll let him in.” They say this to little children – 2, 3, 4 years old, although I’ve met several 14-year-olds who are scared that their parents will hire someone to kidnap them temporarily . . .. We put toys in the kid’s boots, but we protect them as best we can from the related TV programs, parties and other frightened children. Actually, Erich encourages his friends by telling them the truth.

The funniest incident was with Michael. We had told him that St. Nick and Krampus were make-believe. Then we went shopping and ran into someone dressed up like St. Nick – bishop’s robes and all – who was passing out candy to the kids. Michael came running up to me with big eyes and said breathlessly, “Mom, he is real. He’s not a pretend guy.”

I had trouble getting into a holiday mood this year. In fact, I never really did. I think our gypsy life is catching up with us. In eight years of marriage, we’ve only had two Christmases in one place! However, we had a nice time even without the nostalgia. After the University was out for vacation, Floyd cancelled as many Bible studies as he dared, keeping only the most important.

I need to tell you about Peter. A while back, Floyd made an offer to all the Christian students that he would be happy to meet with them and an unsaved friend to help the Christian learn to present the gospel to his friend. Wilfred said he had a friend, Peter, who turned out to be our landlady’s brother. He also lives in a neighboring apartment. Floyd, Wilfred and Peter met six times. Then on December 23rd, he knocked on our door, and he and Floyd talked more about how to know God. At one point, Peter talked about the “terrible” cost and said, “I will be putting myself against my family, the Catholic Church, and everything I’ve ever been taught.” But this past summer – before we had even rented the apartment – he prayed that God would become real to him and give him some meaning in life. He couldn’t ignore the fact that God had answered his prayers by sending us into his life. Floyd was not feeling well, and finally told him to go home and make a decision. He left, determined to do just that.

The following morning, he came back over and with a sheepish grin, said, “I did it.” He wrote a long letter to God and copied part of it and gave to Floyd.

Almost the same thing happened to Hans and his unsaved friend, Marcus. Marcus had a week in the hospital during Christmas to think and read his Bible and made a decision too. He has been released from some hatred toward his mother who makes a living as a prostitute but goes to Mass every week to ease her conscience.

Oh, Sue, it’s heart-rending to see the power and fear that rules over people. As we read the Bible with new believers, the questions and ideas they have are appalling. And so often, they exclaim: “I’ve been lied to!” I could write pages on what we’ve learned, and we still know so very little. Praise God for the salvation of these dear students!

Back to our Christmas: The evening of December 24th, the entire team – 7 people – from Vienna who worked in Eastern Europe came down, and we had a lovely time of fellowship – lots of good food, talked, prayed. It was a touch of home for all of us.

After Christmas and before the New Year, we took four days and drove to Trieste, Italy to visit some American friends. She was one of my best friends in Bible college, and he was a friend of Floyd’s. They had helped with our wedding, and we hadn’t seen them since. Now they are married, have two girls, and are in Trieste, as missionaries with the same mission board we had considered years ago. They badly needed encouragement. Their assignment was to program the computers for a radio station. And that was all. They were discouraged, and we tried to give them advice. Us. The seasoned missionaries of 2 years! Ha, ha!

We had a lovely time together. Sometimes reunions after nine years can be a disaster, but we all seemed to have grown in the same direction (toward God?), and it was like no time at all had gone by. All four of our kids got along very well, with only one hassle . . ..

I have so much more to say, but I’ll close for now. Happy New Year! May this year draw you even closer to our Savior.

Love, Christine

Where did we get the energy?

Stars of Wonder

[This is reprinted from “Missions Magazine,” December 1988.]

They came with a star. Although they were Austrian teenagers, I recognized them at once as the three wise men plus star-bearer, and I invited them in. Colorful capes were flung over their coats, and glittering turbans crowned their heads. They stomped the snow from their boots and headed to the living room, trailing the pungent smell of perfume from their incense burner.

The star-bearer held her six-pointed star aloft and recited a poem of men from a foreign country, who saw a star and followed it to the Christ Child. After singing a song, they asked us to donate money to their organization. Then they offered to bless our house by writing the initials of the three wisemen above the lintel of the front door.

During our time in Austria, we learned many new customs. We recognized, however, that the people did not always have the whole truth, and that they were often looking to a false Christ. For example, the Christ Child in many European countries has been reduced to a mystical, magical elf who comes on Christmas Eve to light the tree and to bring the presents. Children grow up not believing in him anymore. We realized that we needed to light their way from the customs to the real, living Jesus.

Jesus told His disciples in Matthew 5:14-16 that their good deeds were to shine so brightly that unbelievers would be brought to their knees to worship God. Nowadays, God sends His lights – us – out into the world. Missionaries go the farthest out, but every one of us is supposed to be using every opportunity to lead people to the Savior, just as the star did so long ago.

What better time to do this than at Christmas time? It is probably the only time of the year when we can talk about Jesus – the real Christ – to our friends, neighbors, and even relatives, and they won’t mind too much. It is also the only time of year when we can do extraordinarily kind things, and people won’t think we are too strange. They will be curious as to why we have time for them, while everyone else is rushing about, trying to fulfill dreams.

The whole reason why the Christmas season is so popular is because people want once again to relive the memories. They remember fondly the lightly falling snow, the delicious smells of gingerbread, and the warmth of the fireside after a long, icy walk. But nostalgia paints the past in false colors. In reality, the candy canes never taste as sweet, the Christmas tree never looks as lovely, and the family fellowship is never as happy as remembered. Mankind cannot fill a God-shaped vacuum with memories.

What people need is a star to lead them to the Savior. We can be their star, but often we are hindered by our own pursuit of holiday nostalgia. It will not satisfy us either. Satisfaction comes from giving – as the star gave its light and the wise men gave their gifts. If we would re-arrange our priorities, perhaps we would have the time to show unbelieving friends the love of Christ during the busy Christmas season. If material things weren’t so important to us, perhaps we could be able to convince the unsaved of the importance of knowing Christ.

We must also muster the courage to talk about Christmas customs and about the birth of Jesus Christ. We need to stimulate their curiosity by our good deeds and then challenge them to read God’s Word to find out if God might have anything to say to them.

We will never forget one particular Christmas Eve in Austria. My husband, Floyd, was sick with the flu. Peter, an unsaved student with whom Floyd had read the Bible for several months, came to the door. He had told us that he did not want to make a snap decision for Christ, but we were beginning to wonder if he’d ever make a decision at all. He handed me an envelope and said, “Tell Floyd I did it. Merry Christmas.” Then he ran down the steps, leaving me standing in open-mouthed wonder.

In his letter, Peter described the steps leading to his decision on Christmas Eve to give his life to Jesus Christ. We treasure that letter more than Christmas ornaments, and none of us remembers the gifts we gave that year, but it was a wonderful Christmas. The joy of knowing that we were where God had wanted us to be, that we had met the person He wanted us to meet, and that we had said some right things was indescribable.

Most people will never have to travel halfway around the world to meet the person God wants them to shine for; unbelievers live all around us. If we take the time to get near to them, they will be able to see our light. Then they may follow to find the Savior, at whose feet they will fall down and worship.

Polishing our Star

Sometimes it is difficult to think of things to do for our unsaved friends, neighbors and relatives that will shine clearly enough to show the way to the Savior. Listed below are a few ideas for the holidays.

  • Invite a friend for a special tea.
  • Offer to babysit for a young couple so that they can accomplish their shopping.
  • Prepare baked goods for invalids, working moms, and neighbors.
  • Be extra supportive and courteous at work.
  • Take an elderly person shopping or shop for them.
  • Plan a Christmas open House just to get to meet all of the neighbors you have neglected for so long.
  • Give a book about the true meaning of Christmas

All of these things take effort, but if we are truly concerned for the souls of the unsaved around us, then we will change our priorities to allow us to do things for others and not just for our own families.

Above all, we need to be ready to talk about the Savior (First Peter 3:15). After all, we are celebrating His birth! Tell your friends that although you haven’t mentioned Jesus before, He means a lot to you, and you hate to see Him neglected at Christmas time. Some people will reject you, others may laugh, but some may respect you and come back for more.

Three Steps Forward, Two Steps Back

Floyd and I were saved when we were children. Although we can point to the day we made a decision, and although we were confronted with our sin and need for a Savior, we were not yet old enough to apply reason and doubt before we could make that decision. What must it be like for an adult to hear the gospel for the first time? A book, written many years after we left Austria, describes very well the struggle our friends in Austria often tried to communicate to us.

So there it was, that stormy night. I finally heard the gospel. Plain and clear . . .. That is the bizarre thing about the good news: who knows how you will really hear it one day, once you have heard it, you can never unhear it. Once you have read it, or spoken it, or thought it, even if it irritates you, even if you hate hearing it or cannot find it feasible, or try to dismiss it, you cannot unread it, or unspeak it, or unthink it.

It is like a great big elephant in a tiny room. Its obvious presence begins to squeeze out everything else, including your own little measly self. Some accept it easily, some accept it quickly, and some are struck with the mystical reality of it right away. These people have no trouble bringing the unseen into the realm of the seen. But others of us fight the elephant; we push back on it, we try to ignore it, get it to leave the room, or attempt to leave the room ourselves. But it does not help. The trunk keeps curling around the doorknob. The hook is there. It may snooze or loom or rise and recede, but regardless of the time passed or the vanity endured, the idea keeps coming back, like a cosmic boomerang you cannot just throw away. I did not realize this was part of the grace of it all– such relentless truthfulness. [1]

Generally, Floyd went eagerly to every Bible study, confident that the Holy Spirit would be there in God’s word. Confronted by doubt, anger, heresy, and skepticism, Floyd found a way to lead his friends back to scripture for their answers. When the hour was up, they often begged him for one more paragraph, and although the hour was late, he knew that this was the reason we were in Austria. So, they would take another hour to cover the next paragraph in the Gospel of John.

He would return home exhausted, but exuberant, and he often could not sleep right away because of how exciting the evening had been. The next morning at breakfast (for I was usually asleep when he came home), he would walk me through the study, telling me what they had said and what he had said. He often used the phrase, “Three steps forward, two steps back,” to describe the process. It was truly a miracle to see the relentless “Hound of Heaven”[2] coax them (or drag them!) ever nearer the Kingdom of Heaven.

And the joy we experienced when we realized that one of them seemed to have made a decision to follow the Lord Jesus Christ! Floyd whooped and hollered, and I cried for joy – in our apartment. To their face, Floyd calmly continued to read the next paragraph in the Gospel of John. They made so many earth-shaking decisions – to stop sleeping with their girlfriend, to be kinder to a difficult parent, to stop cheating on exams, to read the Bible on their own, to stop getting drunk, to stop drinking alcohol altogether, to withdraw from the Catholic Church, to invite a friend to the Bible study, to attend our church. All of these decisions were indicators, but only their perseverance in the faith would prove that they had indeed made the decision.

I did not attend the Bible studies very often because I had to find a babysitter, and we didn’t want me to be gone every evening. We tried to invite everyone in every Bible study to our home for a meal at least once. Floyd would tell them: “You need to meet Christine, so you will know that one of us is normal!!” I also tried to arrange to attend each Bible study at least once so I could see them in their homes. After one study, on the way home, I said to Floyd, “The study went just the way you always describe them. It’s as if they had the script from the same study you told me about a couple weeks ago.”

That was when we began to realize that the unsaved mind has only a limited number of objections and reactions to the truths in scripture. And while Floyd had often been tongue-tied in the first couple of years, with practice he learned responses that would cause the unsaved person to rethink and reevaluate. It was such a privilege to be a part of this miracle in Graz.

Thank You, Don Francisco

Step Across the Line[3]

If you gave me half a reason
I would tell you what is true
But no matter how you listen
There's nothing I could do
To make you see with more than just your mind
Until the day you step across the line

No explanation could tell you what I've seen
There's no way to paint a picture
That could show you what I mean
When I say I left the man I was behind
And found another world across the line

Chorus:

You gotta take a step . . . across the line
Let Jesus fill your heart and mind
I can show you where to look
But you've got to seek to find
You got to take a step . . . across the line

An invitation is the best that I can do
To change your future ‘til forever
And the rest is up to you

You can take His hand or keep on going blind

He waits for you to step across the line.

Shall We Take a Break to Visit Portland? – A Big Question

We had been told that missionaries with whom we were associated go home for a break after their third year on the mission field. As we began to see that date draw nearer, we started talking about the pros and cons of leaving our ministry at this time. Support from our home church was adequate, and we had no need to raise more money. Erich really could not be removed from the school year without damage to his German and his emotional well-being.

On the other hand, if we left just for the summer – next summer – we had learned that most of the Austrians, particularly students, would be gone anyway. The Bible studies would be canceled, and we would just be spending time with those who were still in Graz – hiking, swimming, and having picnics. That time would be valuable in building relationships, but time in the States might be good as well. We loved the people we had left behind, and could look forward to spending time with them.

Decisions, Decisions. Our elders solved the problem for us.

A Visit from Our Supporting Church!

It almost started out as a joke when Floyd had challenged the men in our supporting church: “You really ought to come visit us. We are having way too much fun – hiking and swimming and skiing and eating pastries and Wienerschnitzel. Shouldn’t you be checking up on us?”

Now suddenly, the answer to whether or not we should return to the States for next summer came from them. Some of them were planning a vacation in Europe, and they would come to visit us in April – our dear, substitute parents, Dave and Sue, and Floyd’s former boss and his wife and sister.

We began planning for them to come. At first, we thought we would just cram them all into our apartment, but they wanted to stay in a lovely Gasthaus not too far from our apartment. We helped them figure out their train schedules to Graz, and planned their itinerary while with us.

My friend, Sue, asked what they could bring us from the States. Many missionaries missed Jello™, packaged macaroni and cheese, and baking powder in a can. Some even wanted chocolate chips, although I never understood that because we were living in the land of the best chocolate in the world! I remember wanting brown sugar, but it’s so heavy that I didn’t ask. We also enjoyed those triangular corn chips, and I told them I didn’t mind if they got crushed; I’d just eat them with a spoon! The note I wrote to Sue asked for socks for Floyd and the boys. I think we were being very practical, and as money was always short, getting socks seemed wise. I also asked for cheddar cheese because although cheese in Europe is fantastic, we missed cheddar. Besides these things, they brought the boys fun pajamas, me a pretty new dress, and Floyd probably got books.

Their visit was a tremendous encouragement to us. Erich was “hired” to be tour guide and translator, and we ate out at restaurants and went to some places we had never seen because of the entrance fees. We were thrilled to show them our beloved Graz, introduce them to people they had prayed for, and spoil them with Austrian meals I had learned to cook.

Before our time in Graz ended in 1988, five of our eight elders and their wives had visited us. We really think this is why we got so much prayer and financial support. They were able to see firsthand how much we were doing, picture us in our apartment and area, and chat with our friends, most of whom could speak English very well. They were not a burden on us at all because they weren’t using us as a vacation destination (although there was plenty of vacationing going on simultaneously!).

Sue wrote: Before we visited, you seemed terribly remote, but now I know you could travel to Portland in hours, so our perspective is more realistic. We loved seeing you on ‘your field’ and to witness how God is using you in the lives of others. We were amazed by all your contacts. Please greet the Liebenfels’ family for us; got a lovely letter from them. Thank you for your kind hospitality to us. Austria and our visit with you were a highlight on our trip.

A Wedding!

My sister, Marian, was getting married, and Floyd insisted that I attend. Initially, the plan was for me to take Michael with me, but that was too pricey, so Floyd became chief cook and dish washer for that time.

I was completely unprepared for the reverse culture shock that hit me as I traveled back “home.” My grandmother lived on Long Island, New York, my mother and Floyd’s stepfather in Colorado, and the wedding was in Portland, where Marian had been living for several years. So, I had stops all the way across the country. I found myself planning in German what I would say to people at Kennedy Airport to find the limousine to my Grandmother’s town. In Colorado, I went for a walk by myself on a busy highway. I was frustrated that there were no sidewalks to the grocery store, as there are in Austria. My friends, however, were shocked that I had forgotten how dangerous it is to wander around alone in some cities; Graz was so safe.

In Portland, the ladies planned a meeting for me to share about our work in Graz. They gave me a monetary gift to spend on fun stuff. Then the whole church gathered for Wednesday Night Prayer and Bible Study, and I was able to answer questions and tell them about our future plans. People I had never met came up to me and said, “I feel as if I know you. We pray for you every week.” I realized that the letters we wrote were being read to the church and we had a whole church body praying for the work we were doing in Graz. It was a great encouragement.

I also helped Marian’s substitute mother plan the beautiful outdoor wedding in their yard. It was Portland, however, and it bucketed rain all day. Another small church allowed us to use their building, and I wept through the whole ceremony like a proud mama!

I stayed with my sisters in a home that was loaned to us – such a wonderful gift, and we had many late-night chats. One morning, I set off the smoke detectors by burning a pan full of bacon. Smoke detectors were relatively new, and I didn’t know what to do. I carried the flaming pan outside and opened all the windows. My sister didn’t even wake up! I called a friend for help, but by then the detector had stopped screaming. So fortunately, part of that trip did not include burning down someone’s house.

Sue took me shopping and bought me lovely things that she had discovered I needed – a best dress, a raincoat, and other necessary things. I returned home to Austria, bearing gifts but also glad to be truly at home in Graz.

Floyd’s Driver’s License

Austrians love to walk. Many of our most valuable times with Austrians were spent on long walks or hikes in the mountains. In the city, it really didn’t matter where you lived: there was always a little store within walking distance. And usually a bank, post office, pharmacy, and bakery. For other shopping, one could take the bus or streetcar. Those stops were also within walking distance of almost everywhere one lived. For four people, however, a car was also a necessity, and we needed driver’s licenses.

This is Floyd’s story:

I went to the police station to apply for my license. I was ushered into a room with more than a dozen young men in their early teens who were attempting to pass the exam for their moped licenses. Back then, the questioners were allowed to ask any and as many questions as they deemed necessary. The questioner turned out to be quite grumpy, and perhaps his reputation was well known. All the young men in the room sat speechless and petrified. Their faces of doom stared straight ahead into hopelessness.

He asked his first question. He pointed to one of the boys.

“What determines how fast you should drive?”

The youth sat rigid in his seat, and his mouth refused to cooperate. He said nothing.

The questioner screamed at him, “If you don’t know how fast you should drive, get OUT of this office!”

After two or three more were ejected from the room, he turned to me and asked, “What do you do at a crosswalk?”

His questions did not have to make sense, and each one could be a trap to flunk you.

“I drive over it,” I replied.

He flinched, looked at me directly and asked, “Yea, yea, so what don’t you do at a crosswalk?”

“Don’t park, don’t pass, don’t . . .”

He cut me off. “You passed the test.”

I had wanted to say that a driver shouldn’t pee on the crosswalk, but he never gave me the chance.

He eventually flunked every young person in that room that hadn’t run out scared before being asked a question.

After I passed the next test, where he asked me what kind of cooling systems were used in cars, I had to take my driving test. I got the grumpy man again. I was parked in the parking lot. He told me to back out onto the street.

I told him to buckle his seat belt.

Then I backed out into the parking lot, not into the street, turned the car around to enter the street with the front of the car. I signaled, turned, drove five feet, and he told me to pull into the next parking lot. I signaled, turned and parked.

He told me that I had passed my driving test.

I didn’t want to make him mad and change his mind, but I had to know.

“Why were you so hard on those young men trying to get their moped licenses”?

He sighed. “So many kids get killed on mopeds. They should be outlawed.”

He got out of the car, and I received my driver’s license in the mail a week later.

I always wondered if he had lost his own child in a moped accident.

[1] Carolyn Weber, Surprised by Oxford: A Memoir, (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2011), pp. 81-82

[2] Francis Thompson,  “The Hound of Heaven,” https://pdfs.semanticscholar.org/4ef2/fae96e6e9e13b2d1f1285139d9574d4707b2.pdf

[3] Source: Musixmatch

We Never Saw It Coming: An Introduction to Christian Missions (textbook)

SHOP

Privacy Policy