Anderson University - Echoes Yearbook (Anderson, IN)

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A. Willie Krenz, pastor of the Church of God in Fritzlar, Germany, takes a break as Norm Beard collects his geographical bearings. B. John Johnson, traveling with other students to Guatamala, labors industriously to aid in the construction of a much needed church. C. Cindy Watson finds herself placed in the unusual posi¬ tion - at least for her - of artist for a day as she paints in India. D. Foreign travel can take almost any form; Larry Creviston and Michelle Witt seem to particularly enjoy an Indian buggy. E. The TRI-S DENMARK group ' s rendition of I saw the light is enthusiastically presented to the people of Aarhus, Denmark. 23

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Tri-S Challenges Student Awareness Building a church, passing out literature, teaching Bible school and playing basketball do not seem to have much in common. However, if you participated in the Tri-S program - Student Sum¬ mer Service - you would disagree. Originating in 1964, the Tri-S was designed after a Peace Corp format in conjunction with the Christian ideals of the college. Through Tri-S, students have traveled thousands of miles to nearly 30 countries sharing their Christian witness with others. In recent years the program expanded its opportunities allow¬ ing students to use methods of teaching, singing, dramatics, athletics, evangelism and build¬ ing to express their Christian brotherhood. Experiencing new cultures and making new friends were only a few rewards of taking a Tri-S trip. 22

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Group Makes Denmark Focus of European Bike Trip The Tri-S Denmark mission started long before the DC-10 rose out of Ken¬ nedy International Airport and involved many more than the five who pedaled 1700 miles through Europe. Support came from every sector of the campus. The 24 hour, 500 mile bike marathon found many friends counting laps through the night as well as contributing funds. Because of your role in Tri-S Denmark, we appreciate the chance to share this account. The five of us - P. G. Rigel, Doug Hall, John Zerkle, Larry Linamen and Chris Linamen - left New York on the 24th of June arriving in Paris early the next day. After hastily assembling our bikes in the airport parking lot, we faced our first obstacle: finding a place to store five bulky bike boxes that were required for the flight home. We had exhausted all possibilities and were ready to junk the cardboard monstrosities and take our chances when a young Parisian asked us what we were doing. We learned that he was a successful bicycle racer. Excited by our project, he offered to cram our boxes into his apartment with his new bride. Prayer was answered. Following his instructions we were soon out of Paris and into the grain fields of northern France. The drought that plagued Europe was good fortune for us. No rain fell the whole way to Denmark, but ninety degree temperatures forced frequent stops for water. Quickly dried out by the multitude of small hills and dusty villages, the bicyclists became merciless in their raids for water. We hit gas stations, cafes, homes and public restrooms. At one gas station near Le Cafeau an elderly woman presented a rare gift: ice. Through Chris’s French and the group’s toothy smiles, our requests were usually granted. By the time we made ourselves understood, we had most often made a friend. After winding through the ancient, gray villages of rural France, Tri-S Denmark rolled across urbanized Belgium. Here we discovered our first windmills and bike trails. We also discovered how dangerous and impersonal the cities could be, but helpful Belgians were not a rare breed. One scrufty, gray-headed cyclist led us across Antwerp to a youth hostel everyone else had said was closed. Our next nation was Holland, one of our favorite countries. A look at a typical Dutch road revealed that bicycles were as much a part of life as cars. Bike paths paralleled nearly every road, even in large cities. Along with such a network came bike stop lights and fines for traffic violations. Manicured to perfection, the Dutch countryside contrasted sharply to the five disheveled bikers. Most nights the group stayed at youth hostels, more commonly called JUGEN- DHERBERGENS. For $1.50 to $3 a night, we had a clean place to sleep and a meal. Fellow hostelers came from as far away as Japan. At the Deinekampf hos¬ tel, a 300-year old mansion surrounded by a moat, we met several girls who were involved in the Dutch branch of Youth for Christ. School children on holiday also frequented the Herbergen along our route, and we often found ourselves entertaining them. John was particularly adept at a magic trick. We celebrated the fourth of July bicen¬ tennial bash as we wound through the moors of northern West Germany. Once past the Greater Scandinavian Sex Ship and other such wonders on the border, we found Denmark to be a beautiful country of pine forests and vast rolling fields of flowers. Both relief and apprehension filled this part of the trip. Our goal was not far. We stopped at a park just outside of Aarhus, the city where our church was located, and prayed for help and thanked God for His protection so far. Tri-S Den¬ mark entered Aarhus a few hours later. The congregation at the One Way House proved itself to be full of love and humor. It took us a while to understand their peculiar brand of the latter: it was simple insanity. But the most dynamic element of the church was the spirit that filled Rev. Klaus Kroger, Niels Norholm and the rest of the believers. The people from the One Way House worked harder than any congregation we’d ever seen. Their primary purpose was to reach out to the 90 °]o of the population that was unchurched or churched in name alone. We came to Aarhus with the willingness to serve without knowing what we would do. When Klaus first told us our assign¬ ment, we thought he was merely exercis¬ ing his sense of humor. For two and a half weeks we merged our voices in the streets of the 200,000 person community while church members talked with and passed out literature to the crowds that gathe red. Few Danes had ever heard a banjo, and fewer still had ever heard anyone like us sing Church of God camp songs. Our listeners were always fascinated and some even tried to pay us. But times weren’t always good. Third Story apartment dwellers found amuse¬ ment in throwing fruit at us after they had heard I Saw the Light eight or nine times. Motorcycle gangs shredded our papers on one occasion. The city’s drunks quickly adopted us and took pleasure in dancing to our music. At times our inability to speak Danish made us feel useless and we questioned the effectiveness of our work. Always enthusiastic, Klaus would say, You boys just plant the seeds. God will do the rest.’ ' We participated in the services of this vibrant congregation through music and testimony. The Wednesday night prayer meeting was suspended twice while we were there so that the believers could go door to door and witness. Friday nights were coffee house nights. Interested pass¬ ers-by would be invited to learn more about what Christ could do for them dur¬ ing this time. It was not easy to break the family-like bonds when the time came to sail out of Aarhus Harbor. The size of the send off made the rest of the passengers on the ferry think we were celebrities. Our friends traded songs with us until we were out of earshot.