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| Grand Hotel Kempinski Geneva |
It was one of those hotels that we simply amble past, gazing at the opulence and thinking ‘this is where the other half wile away their time’. Palatial in every way with its penguin-like doormen, Mercedes, Maybachs and Ferraris parked in the driveway and lake-facing windows with balconies stretching several stories upwards. Bed and breakfast for two would give you little change out of 1,000 Swiss Francs.
Kempinski Meal
It was into this world that we stepped on a rainy September evening in Geneva. Only weeks before we had filmed one of its top executives catching his much prized 42 pound carp in Lake Divonne, only to be invited to his hotel for a family meal on the house. Armed with a canvas print of the most inspiring photo I had taken on that day, we gingerly walked into Le Grill and were escorted to a table overlooking Lake Geneva from which we watched the sun setting over the world-famous Jet d'Eau and the traffic meandering home after a hard day’s work.
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| Presenting the canvas |
To say he was a humble man would be to understate the truth. Not the high-flying executive type I had in my mind, nor was his wife any different – charming to chat to they made to feel totally at home. We enjoyed the most sumptuous meal we had ever experience in our lives. And there was no looking at the price tag to see if we could afford it – we knew we couldn’t. I did resist the temptation to order the most expensive bottle of wine on the menu, priced at over 2,000 Swiss Francs. I probably wouldn’t have appreciated the difference between that and a cheap bottle of plonk from ASDA – but who was to know?
How easy it is to stereotype people. Here was a man renowned throughout the European and Middle-Eastern hotel industry, living in one of the choicest parts of Geneva overlooking the lake, and yet as he gazed at the canvas I presented him with he said, ‘I look like I’m thanking God for the catch of fish’. (We were able to tell him that this photo had triggered a number of sermon illustrations.) He was a man who showed a genuine interest in who we were and what we do. He was a man who had time for people, despite his frantic work schedule and jet setting life-style.
Challex
A twenty minute drive from Geneva over the French border towards the foothills of the Jura mountains lies the tranquil village of Challex. Set amidst the rolling hillsides bedecked with acres of vineyards, carefully cultivated during the summer months, the village has little commerce. A deserted town hall, a barn which houses the snow plough, an auberge with magnificent views of the Rhone valley and an adjacent boulangerie - and, yes, a church.
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| The church in Challex at Christmas |
Standing ornately against the summer skies watching the planes fly into Geneva airport, this monument, surrounded by a beautifully maintained graveyard with expertly crafted grave stones with guilt lettering as reminders of past residents, lovingly remembered, the church is a building without a heart. The hinges groaned as I pushed the big wooden door ajar. I peered into the dark interior and waited for my eyes to adjust to the shadowy interior. Rows of wooden pews separated by a central aisle led the way to a pulpit and altar at the far end. Shelves of hymn books collected dust and I pictured in my mind the bats watching me from the rafters as I gingerly walked towards the chancel. An organ, which had seen better days, sat beneath posters reprimanding people for not attending church frequently in order to keep the faith and mission alive. (I remembered the previous Christmas Eve when I dutifully went to the service only to find that no one else had decided on the same plan, not even the preacher. The brisk walk in the deep snow was sufficient to give me a Christmas glow however.) I made my way out again with the words of Eleanor Rigby echoing through my mind, 'Father McKenzie, writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear, no one comes near'. The bright sunlight accosted my eyes but gave welcome comfort as I re-emerged into normality. I mused on how I had seen churches like this in England - churches that stood as shells which once housed a vibrant, now departed, faith community - churches with a bright future behind them.
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| The church in Challex on a summer's day |
It's sad really that the place where you would expect to find the Spirit at work had given up the ghost. And yet, there in the opulence of the Kempinski hotel, friendship and warmth reflected God's love in the most unlikely of surroundings.
Jesus had a lot to say about wealth and the dangers it can pose. He did not criticise wealth itself but the addiction that some people acquire towards it. Jesus knew that for some, the pursuit of wealth would rob them of their true humanity. He knew that faith in God would be swallowed up in the perceived security provided by wealth and earthly possessions. He knew that wealth could lead to that decadent disregard for hurting people and create an unbridgeable chasm between heaven and hell. Here was a rich man who hadn’t lost touch with the ordinary and had time for people, whoever they were – a man who had wealth under his control, not the other way around.
As I look at the picture of him holding his great catch, the sense of wonder and gratitude on his face shows he is a man who values life in all its fulness. I guess we may never set foot inside this world again but we now know that at Kempinski, we are accepted just as we are. Maybe a foretaste of another banquet which will be even higher quality than this one!
© Roger G Johnson 2013 
