APRIL 1, 2022 – Twice in Switzerland—during my 1979 Eurail trip—I’d practiced a “religion” of mine: downhill skiing. One “worship ceremony” occurred on the Aletsch Glacier next to the Jungfrau in the Bernese Oberland. Surrounded by Alpine peaks and bathed in sunshine, I made two mistakes: I wore shorts and forgot to apply sunscreen to the backs of my legs. Another “worship ritual” was beside the Matterhorn in the Valais. I skied my brains out until the mid-day temperature of late June turned snow to slush. Again, the views were spectacular but . . . no shorts. I wore jeans.
In 1981, I arrived too late for summer skiing. Instead, in penitential deference to my devout mother, who’d worried to death about my Grand Odyssey, I visited L’Abri (“The Shelter”), a Christian work-study retreat in Huémoz-sur-Ollon, Switzerland, founded in 1955 by American Francis Schaeffer and his wife, Edith. The religious back stories—my mother’s and Schaeffers’—are complicated beyond the purview of this blog; certainly this post. In a letter I’d retrieved in Geneva, my mother had urged me to go to L’Abri.
The secluded, Alpine setting and classic chalet style of the main building were welcoming enough, and as advertised, any visitor could sit down at one of the long, wooden tables in the dining hall and enjoy a free lunch.
Of course, there’s no such thing as a “free lunch.” Watchful eyes dissuaded me from gorging myself, then disappearing. Instead of running off, I ambled into the adjoining library, where books and cassette tapes covering myriad subjects—all with a Christian slant—were available for on-site reading/listening. I decided to “pay” for my soup, home-made bread, milk, ice cream, and cookie by listening to a tape about the fatal flaws of Marxist-Leninist economic theory.
Inevitably, the price went up: an evangelical staff person persuaded me to take a short tour of L’Abri, hike with other visitors, eat a “free dinner,” and join an evening discussion group. This all led to a “free room” for one overnight. In meeting other staff members and visitors, I experienced my ongoing conflict with religion. On the one hand, out of remorse for pitched battles with my religious mother, I sought redemption by acquiescence. On the other hand, I simply wasn’t a “churchy person.” No amount of exposure to holy-rollers would overcome my skepticism.
Years later, I’d read the autobiography of Frank Schaeffer, son of Francis and Edith: Crazy for God: How I Grew Up As One of the Elect, Helped Found the Religious Right and Lived to Take All (or Almost All) of It Back. The riveting story excoriated evangelical Christianity and explained how the elder Schaeffers’ repressive religious influences wholly backfired, turning Frank from a “conservative Christian” into a “liberal Democrat.” By the end of the book, I was completely in his corner.
In 1981, however, I quietly departed L’Abri, and in a letter home, offered my mother what assurance I could: though I’d run away, perhaps I hadn’t fallen away. For a free lunch, free dinner, and free accommodations, I’d paid in full.
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© 2022 by Eric Nilsson
