A personal reflection from two people who see the hunger up close — and believe the Word is exactly what this continent needs.
We live here. We walk these streets, sit in these cafés, and have these conversations. And what we feel most days is a mixture of grief and hope that is hard to hold at the same time. Grief, because we can see what has been lost. Hope, because we can also see what is still possible — and we believe with everything in us that the Bible is at the center of it.
That is why we are here. Not as tourists to European Christianity, not as people observing from the outside, but as missionaries called to bring the Word of God to a continent that built so much of its civilization on it — and has quietly walked away from it. Every day we feel the weight of that calling, and every day we are more convinced it is the right one.
“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”— Romans 12:2
What we see around us are not just political or economic crises — though those are real enough. What we see is a spiritual crisis. People are searching for a framework to live by and coming up empty. And when the Church goes quiet, that emptiness does not stay. It fills — with consumerism that ties worth to possessions, with an individualism that strips away any sense of duty to one another, with outrage that looks like justice but has no love or real answers in it, with loneliness that gets sold to people as freedom. We see these things every week. They are not abstractions to us.
And that is exactly why teaching the Bible here feels so urgent. When we open the Scriptures with someone and watch something come alive in them — a sense of dignity, of direction, of being known and loved by a God who makes actual moral demands on us — we know this is our role in helping answer the challenge.
Teaching Adventures 