Back in the Saddle Again

After a smooth flight on Monday and a few days to rest, readjust to the time change, and spend time with my brother and his family, and Rachel's family (my parents are still in Florida so we will catch them in another week), we are home and back in the saddle. We were welcomed very warmly by our church family and had a great day reconnecting with them. I am excited to share with them what I learned and experienced during the weeks to come. As I walked Natalie to school this morning, she was greeted by a group of friends eager to exchange hugs and walk with her to class.

We had an incredible time away, but it is also good to be home. As far as future blogs go now that we are home, I am not quite certain. However, I am sure I will have much to process from our experiences, so stay tuned, at least for a little while. Maybe if I ever figure out how to post pictures, I will let them say the thousands of words which I neglected.

Christ in You the Hope of Glory

Have you ever had a divine appointment? Perhaps the experience consists of an ordinary appointment with another person, sometimes planned, sometimes random. However, at the conclusion of the appointment you clearly realize that it wasn't the other person with whom you conversed, but God Himself revealed through another.

In many places the New Testament describes a profound mystery. The language varies from one passage to another, yet the reality, when taken seriously, remains quite astounding. In writing to the Colossian Christians, Paul referred to this mystery as "Christ in you, the hope of Glory." To think of Jesus, the Son of God, taking up residence within average human beings is certainly a truth which remains difficult to wrap one's mind around, especially when full consideration is given. Yet this mysterious reality permits us to experience such divine appointments as mentioned above.

Today, I had one such appointment (I will describe it in a moment, but allow me to give a bit of background). Over the past week, in casual conversation with other pastors in Oxford, I mentioned my research focus of this sabbatical including the writings of Bernard of Clairvaux. More than once I was posed with the question, "Have you spoken with Sister Benedicta?" Upon hearing her name mentioned the third time, I decided I must meet this Sister Benedicta. After tracking down her information, I set up an appointment for this afternoon.

Following a brief walk, I came to the residence of this Sister. An elderly woman answered the door, quietly and meekly. We entered the study; surrounded by books of ancient Christian writings we proceeded to talk. She enquired about my research, then listen carefully. I had a couple of specific questions which I posed to her regarding Bernard. She responded with brilliant insight and knowledge, not in any flashy way, but quite humbly. In fact, her way of enquiry was not, "What else would you like to know from me?" Rather, on a couple of occasions with carefully selected words she asked, "What else can we tell each other about Bernard?" This seasoned scholar with fourteen published books to her credentials was open to hearing what a relatively young whippersnapper as myself might have to say, which certainly paled in comparison to her understanding.

Interestingly, it was not her scholarly insight that was impressive, although it was quite helpful toward my project. Rather, it was the clear sense of the presence of Christ in her which made her a gem of a person to meet. Upon the conclusion of our meeting, I left with the sense of having been in the presence of God, not of Sister Benedicta, not of her vast knowledge, not of a well published author, but the presence of Christ coming through this meek, humble servant.

Christ in us, a profound mystery, yet for willing participants, a beautiful reality.

Overdue Update

Well, once again I am overdue for an update. It is hard to believe the sabbatical time is winding down. We miss you all back home and look forward to seeing you again soon. I am sure we will not stop talking about our experiences for quite some time. We are feeling re-energized, renewed, and full of great experiences. Although I tried to keep the blog updated as time allowed, we experienced so much that there is no possible way to include it all.

Just a few highlights I have missed:

Rachel's mom came for a six day visit. We had a good time showing her around, Natalie especially enjoyed being tour guide. Rachel and I were able to have a date night while the girls had Grandma time. We enjoyed the time together.

Sunday I took in an all day lecture on art and Biblical interpretation hosted by the university's continuing education department. I love the Bible, I love to draw and paint, and I love to learn, so the class sounded like fun. However, I am certainly no expert on art history, consequently, some of it was admittedly a bit over my head, although I did find it mostly quite interesting.

A couple weeks ago, we took in Stonehenge and Avebury (a site similar to Stonehenge). Fascinating piles of rocks they were! We also spent an afternoon in London seeing the tower that holds Big Ben (Big Ben is the name of the bell, not the tower; they name all their bells around here).

We have opportunities here and there to spend time with my Uncle Karl (who Alana affectionately calls "Uncle Car Wash" as Karl is just too difficult for her to say), Aunt Caroline, and my cousin Sophie. They live near the airport, so we will spend the night with them one last time before we fly out on Monday.

Rachel has explored portions of the city while running. Today, I took in the last sites of Oxford which I had previously missed including the University Church, St. Mary's, where John and Charles Wesley stirred up some trouble through their preaching and the Oxford movement began with the preaching of John Keble and influence of John Henry Newman. I also went into the chapel at Lincoln College where John Wesley was "one time fellow", as his published works state it. It was a beautiful chapel, one of my favorites among the many we have seen this trip.

Sunday night, I went to an evening service at the Methodist Church across the street. They have designed the service in order to reach some of the people from the neighborhood who may not otherwise attend. I enjoyed the service, they had a unique blend of a band mixed with times of quiet reflection and solitude. I must write a blog entry one of these days about the various types of worship services and styles I have experienced.

Well, I am sure there is much more to say, but I am tired and see that the above is full of ramblings on. I hope this gives you a little more of what is happening on this end.

Culture

Many factors define who we are, including personality type, genetics, upbringing, experiences, convictions, etc. However, I find a covert influence lurking all around us, often remaining allusive and undetected, but whose effect upon us cannot be measured due to its vastness. This shaper of persons defines our behavior, perspective, language, and values, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. What could possibly impact us so strongly? In a word--culture.

We may try to fight against it or deny its sway over us, but when it comes right down to it we find ourselves a product of our cultural environment. I asked a dangerous question to a couple of people native to Great Britain, "what are some of the cultural faux pas committed by Americans?" A resounding answer arose, "Americans are too loud!" At first, I didn't understand what was meant by this accusation. However, as I began observing my surroundings, it didn't take long for me to see exactly what our neighbors across the ocean were seeing in us. In England, quiet remains a sign of respect for others. Admittedly, in public places I began to find my voice echoing above the crowd. As I heard others speaking loudly, I listened a little closer only to hear a quite familiar accent resounding from the unusually noisy people--the accent of Americans. Unfortunately, I soon realized how true it is, we Americans truly are loud.

In my trips to Nicaragua, I asked a similar question to the Nicaraguans only to find their perspective of Americans tended to focus on our materialism. My last trip to Nicaragua was followed by a trip to Naples, Florida only to see materialism reaching its summit. Sometimes these outside perspectives are necessary to help us see what we can't due to our immersion in our surroundings. I can't help but wonder, in what ways are we so shaped by our culture, but completely unaware because it is so strongly a part of us?

Epworth and York

Well, we concluded our travels to the sites of John Wesley (although we still have a couple local stops to make here in Oxford). It is impossible to see all the sites of Wesley since he traveled some 250,000 miles on horseback, but we have certainly hit the high points. We spent a couple of days in a B & B in Epworth, the birthplace and childhood home of John Wesley. They have preserved the old Rectory where John grew up, making it available for tours. Also, the church where John's dad served as rector for thirty-nine years still stands complete with the baptism font where John, Charles, and their siblings were baptized. Outside the church rests the tomb of John's dad, Samuel. The tomb became a pulpit from which John preached on a number of occasions when he was refused permission to preach in the church. Two sets of numerously pitted holes, looking as if something seared into the cement, lie off to one side of the top of the tomb. These holes are said to be the heal marks left from John's shoes while preaching.

We went into York one day as well. York has a long history of a mere two thousand years plus. The city is incredible with an enormous abby dating back to the 14th century, the original wall around the city, 15th century timber-framed buildings still intact, and incredible importance in the history of Christianity. Constantine was in York with his father, then emperor Flavius Constantius, when Constantius died. Constantine was then declared the new Roman emperor while in York in 306 A.D. The Roman empire was known for its massive persecution against Christians until Constantine signed the Edict of Milan in 313 A.D. allowing for religious toleration throughout the kingdom. This set the stage for the open formation of many churches, monasteries, etc. and the spread of Christianity throughout the kingdom. All in all, York had a place of great historic significance.

Yesterday, we returned to Oxford. Today, I did some study in the library, Rachel did some grocery shopping, and we all worked on laundry. In other words, today was not too exciting, but necessary. I hope you aren't getting too tired of my ramblings about all the history, but as you can tell I find it all so fascinating.

Of Bobble-Heads and Trading Cards

We spent the day in London yesterday, not a bad way to spend my birthday (I will need to be very creative for Rachel’s next birthday as today will be hard to top). We toured Wesley’s home where he spent the last years of his life, his grave, and a preaching chapel he had built after the closing of “The Foundry” (a building used by Wesley to house the poor, a boarding school, a chapel, and a printing press). The house was tastefully preserved with his original furniture, death bed, books, and prayer closet kneeler still in tact. They even had a replica of Wesley’s chamber horse (the 18th century version of exercise equipment like the ab-roller or bo-flex) for the girls to try out. Rachel had a go at it too. Most meaningful to me would have to be entering Wesley’s prayer closet. I could just picture him rising at 4:00a.m., as was his custom, entering the small room off his bedroom, closing the door, and connecting with God through prayer. When we look at the impact of this tiny man, it is clear to see where the power of his influence derived—-behind those doors.

A thought came to me this evening. We have many pastors in our conference who toil endlessly and selflessly, accomplishing great things behind the scenes that often go unnoticed. Perhaps as a way of memorializing their efforts we could design commemorative Bobble-Heads and trading cards. The Bobble-Heads would nicely display oversized caricatures of the preachers’ heads bobbing up and down, as if they were nodding in agreement to a fine sermon, mounted on tiny bodies of the preachers sporting their Sunday best. The trading cards would vary between posed photographs and in-action preaching shots, complete with statistical information on the back (i.e. number of baptisms performed, years of service, weddings officiated, etc.). I can almost hear the children speaking with excitement, “I’ll trade you one Pastor Steve for a Pastor Dave…It’s his rookie year!!!”

Absurd though it seems, I am afraid some people went a similar direction following and even during John Wesley’s day. Even toward the end of his life, people were producing porcelain figurines of Wesley and other collectible trinkets. Wesley lived with celebrity notoriety. I must say, I found it somewhat disappointing to walk into the chapel and see how it didn’t take long after Wesley’s death for the simply, yet elegantly, constructed preaching house and place of worship to become transformed into a type of Methodist preacher “Hall of Fame” complete with busts and commemorative stone plaques posted throughout the chapel. It was quite a contrast to the New Room in Bristol (the oldest Methodist meeting house formed by Wesley), which preserved the simplicity and essence of what these meeting houses were all about. I can’t help but wonder, “What would John think about all this?”

I think his grave marker says it best, it’s not about the instrument, “Give God Glory!”

History in my Hands

In a previous posting, I mentioned the Bodleian Library or “The Bod” as students affectionately refer to it. The Bodleian itself has a rich history. It is customary for the library not to lend books. All reading must be done onsite. In fact, one anecdotal story tells of a former king who was refused the opportunity to check out a book because of their strict rules. In order for me to receive a library card, I had to fill out an application, be approved, and take an oath that I would not destroy the property or bring open flame into the building. I willingly agreed. One of the professors in the residential hall where we reside was kind enough to write a recommendation for access into the library’s special collections. Today, I made use of this privilege. I had two sets of manuscripts set aside for me. One was a collection of 12th to 13th century Latin texts including manuscripts of some of the writings of Bernard of Clairvaux (this is a focus of my studies here). I don’t actually read Latin, but from my background in Greek, Spanish, and I am pretty good with English, I can get the gist of Latin. However, these texts were written very small and very fancy, in other words, I didn’t have a clue what it said. Needless to say, I didn’t spend much time with this collection, although it was exciting to hold a set of writings that old.

I did, however, spend some significant time looking at the second set of manuscripts. I was searching for some letters by John Wesley. One letter appeared in a collection of 18th century letters owned by a 19th century collector, later donated to the library. As I began searching for Wesley’s letters, I was amazed to realize the richness of the original handwritten letters I was holding. I enjoyed the opportunity to hold letters written by Charles Dickens, George Washington, William Cowper, Thomas Paine, a poem handwritten by Percy Shelley, Isaac Watts, William Wilberforce, John Wesley, and a letter from Charles Wesley written to George Whitefield. To see their personal dealings placed these historical giants into the realm of reality. George Washington, writing from Mount Vernon, was interested in ordering red clover seeds and was earlier distraught about a missing shipment of tobacco. Thomas Paine was presenting a copy of his book “The Decline and Fall of the English System of Finance” to the Council of Ancients. William Wilberforce wrote about getting a banned book of his into Aberdeen. It was a fascinating day indeed.