Listen to What You See

 I knew the day would be one of contrasts. The plane full of Scots bound for Berlin was loud and raucous. I wasn't in the mood to chit chat, so I spent much of the flight looking out the window at the beautiful cloud layer, ruminating on Psalm 1:1-3

Blessed is the one

    who does not walk in step with the wicked

or stand in the way that sinners take

    or sit in the company of mockers,

but whose delight is in the law of the LORD,

    and who meditates on his law day and night.

That person is like a tree planted by streams of water,

    which yields its fruit in season

and whose leaf does not wither—

  whatever they do prospers.

Staying just a few blocks from Checkpoint Charlie, I knew my experience of Berlin would have political overtones. I was eager to see remnants of the Cold War divide – an era that scared me as a child. Was anyone else petrified when hiding under our grade-school desks during nuclear war drills? But the vestiges of the Cold War have been supplanted by hot lattes. What's left of the checkpoint is not impressive. So I jumped on one of those double-decker busses, and like any good American tourist, I speed-dated my way through Berlin in less than 3 hours.

I was captivated by the architecture. Every other building was built in the 17th and 18th centuries. Custodians of the past, they bear silent witness to the era when kings and clergy ruled the day. The grandeur of the Brandenberg Gate simply said, "I've been here a long time and will certainly outlive many more generations."

The Brandenberg Gate

The French Cathedral

The Berlin Cathedral

But Berlin is also awash with modern architecture. Light bounces off numerous glass-paneled buildings. The shapes and structures seemed to proclaim, "The future is here now! Pay attention!"

Berlin Philharmonic 

Cube Smart Building 

But what was intriguing was the juxtaposition of the old and new. Berlin is a city that delights in its past. Countless ancient buildings have been reconstructed and preserved since WWII. But the building boom features the vision of cutting-edge architects. "Hold onto the past," these builders seemed to say, "but don't get stuck there." This contrast was on full display when we passed the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church. When city planners wanted to tear down the WWII-bombed church, the people rose up in protest. They preserved the tower and then built an additional modern, octagonal steel and glass church with over 21,000+ stained glass windows. No wonder the locals call these two churches the "Lippenstift und Puderdose," the lipstick and the powder box.

Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church and the aptly titled The New Church 

Inside The New Church

And when the past and present architects weren't proclaiming their radically different points of view, the graffiti you see everywhere serves as the people's voice. The staid pomp of the old and the cultured sleekness of the new does not speak to the tumult Berliners have experienced. Graffitied walls speak of discontent. Vibrant, defiant, and daringly poetic, these walls remind us that Berlin was humiliated and torn apart by a disgraced Führer and a rising superpower. When people feel powerless, they take spray cans to the walls. Their protests will be heard. Their art challenges the status quo. 

Maybe it's time to grab some paint and let the walls speak.