gezelligheid

A Dutch word that means a feeling of coziness, but more than that...it carries a social connotation that exudes welcome and peace and lingering and warmth and relief from stress, from hurry. A gezellig person is one who takes part in this lifestyle, who goes to places, who creates places that are socially cosy, whether a garden or a brown cafe, the supper table or the living room hearth.

Certainly the aesthetics of the place play a part. In the Netherlands and Belgium, the brown cafes are such places, with their candlelit glow, their rich and varied beer served with a 4 inch head, each in its own unique glassware. Foam topped amber. And close, intimate table arrangements, so close you're likely to rub shoulders and knees and elbows with those around you. But the person or persons play the greater part. Beauty and Community create gezelligheid. A community that is unhurried, that enjoys lingering over the beer and conversation, and always makes room for one more.

The word carries as well a sense of loss, of past alienation and closed doors, that makes the communal nature that much sweeter. Especially for Americans. What I found compelling about the lifestyle of the people of Amsterdam is that it seems to be part of their daily routine, that leisurely remaining for hours in their brown cafes. And though we try for it at holidays like Christmas and Easter, it's scarce here...stifled perhaps by modernity. Gezelligheid is not eating burgers in the car on the way to gymnastics or basketball. Nor is it pizza while watching TV or texting. But it seems to be longed for again in postmoderns. And emerging in communities of faith, like organic churches, missional churches, and ancient future churches.

Gezelligheid reminds me of Lewis' joy or sensucht. Maybe it's because I've only experienced that joy when I was with another person or people, usually over good food and drink and rich conversation, sometimes in companionable silence in nature, sometimes, but not often enough, in liturgy and at His table. Always a sense of timelessness breaks through and allows a glimpse of the Ultimate "welcome into the heart of things." When, as Lewis says, "the door on which we have been knocking all our lives will open at last." And stay open forever.

2008

It's been a dizzy start to this year. Teaching already on January 2, at the same time helping one daughter plan her first drive across country and another daughter her first life across the globe (from all of us). The first leaves in 2 days, the second in 5. So classroom time for my World Literature students was journaling about the break and laughing at The Office calendar on character traits...Michael for character, Kelly for communication, Dwight for determination...hysterical! And reading aloud The Abolition of Man with CS Lewis students. I'm always amazed at his insightful digressions, like the "trousered ape" and "castrated geldings" that are commanded to procreate. His rabbit trails are usually the point or at least vividly illustrate his point. Now there's an interesting pairing..The Office and The Abolition of Man...

back again

It's been awhile ...especially if a friend who doesn't necessarily read blogs all that much tells me I need to update. So I'll begin again with where I tend to camp in the fall semester, in the writings and life of C.S. Lewis. The sonnet below is one of my favorites, not because of the style or quality, but for what Lewis says. He expresses much of what I have been exploring in the last year, that our thoughts and words of God, about God, necessarily contain the lie, are "flashy rhetoric" because we are limited by ourselves; we are "self-imprisoned". Another reason why we need each other's stories. A postmodern calvinist tree hugger friend often says that God constructs our reality. And deconstructs.

As The Ruin Falls
-- C.S. Lewis

All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you.
I never had a selfless thought since I was born.
I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through:
I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn.
Peace, re-assurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek,
I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin:
I talk of love—a scholar’s parrot may talk Greek—
But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin.
Only that now you have taught me (but how late) my lack.
I see the chasm. And everything you are was making
My heart into a bridge by which I might get back
From exile, and grow man. And now the bridge is breaking.

For this I bless you as the ruin falls. The pains
You give are more precious than all other gains.