Remember Bertrimoutier

(re-published, following a computer 'hiccup' in November 2014)

“Bertie who?” I hear you say.  Let my answer begin with a confession.  This post is far more personal than usual.  I visited this village nearly thirty years ago, on my first ever visit to France.  I was in Alsace, with almost a week to go before my pre-booked ferry would take my car and me back to England, and I decided on an unguided, ‘sniff-it-out-for-myself’ tour of the Western Front; Bertrimoutier, in the department of Vosges, was one of the first places I passed through.

Its position, so close to the 1914 border between France and Germany, almost guaranteed that there would be fierce fighting here, and a military cemetery nearby has graves of soldiers from both countries.  As I looked over the valley towards this, I exchanged just a few sentences with a local man who looked old enough to have witnessed these events in his youth.  The incident lingers in my mind because it’s the only time I can recall having a spontaneous and inessential conversation in French.

In recent weeks I have been planning a gradual transition into retirement and with it the possibility of obtaining a modest motor-caravan.  I’ve wondered whether such an investment is a wise use of a significant slice of my savings, comparing my situation to that of many thousands in our world who have no hope of such luxury.  After prayer, I realise that my privilege is not without responsibility, and in this instance it seems that my responsibility is to make positive use of such a resource.

I enjoy using words.  Talking – or in former days, preaching – from a script (or at least prepared notes) from a position of established authority isn’t a problem.  On the other hand, although I have no hesitation in replying to enquiries about my own affairs, I find initiating conversation difficult, and anything beyond the essential doesn’t come easily.  I believe this is largely due to having lived and worked alone for many years.  I have determined that, if I go ahead with my plans to go exploring in this large leisure vehicle, I must overcome this difficulty; I must get out, chat to people and engage in their lives rather than remain incarcerated, monk-like, in a mobile cloister.

I wondered where the word ‘talking’ appears in the New Testament.  The results were both encouraging and challenging.  Firstly, they spoke to me of togetherness, being alongside others, as Moses and Elijah were with Jesus at His transfiguration (Luke 9:30).  Then the Gospels revealed more togetherness, as the crowd in the courtyard confronted Peter (Luke 22:60) and later along the Emmaus road (Luke 24:14-15).

Peter rejected the adoration offered by Cornelius (Acts 10:26ff), and talked with him as one of equal rank as he shared the good news of Jesus.  And no study would be complete without Paul, as he almost ridicules himself in an aside, “I’m out of my mind, talking like this” (2 Cor. 11:23).  Paul also warns Timothy about young widows with nothing to do, and writes of their progress from idlers to busybodies “talking nonsense and saying things they ought not to” (1 Tim. 5:13).

So, how can I relate these verses to my present situation?  My conclusions are three-fold.  Talking to people brings great potential for both fellowship and challenge; I shouldn’t take myself too seriously; and I should steer clear of foolish chit-chat or unsubstantiated and unfair criticism of others.

... It should be a piece of cake!  See if I dare to publish the outcome here!