(written by Tim)
It wasn't the sound of a "mighty rushing wind..." or maybe it was. It was the organ in the Notre Dame Cathedral that we were listening to as we crowded in for the 11:30 am "international service." We soon found out that "international service" meant that there were a few English phrases thrown into the service a couple of times in the midst of the liturgy.
While this could have meant sitting there for an hour being mind-numbingly bored by the pantamiming going on up at the high altar while our kids squirmed in the tiny space we had to share as a family... it really was not that type of an experience at all. Instead it felt like true Pentecost.
It began with the procession. The chior that consisted of some of these young French people who we have been seeing all over the city... running around, smoking cigarettes, dressed in some fashion that I hope we won't see coming to America next spring. Only this time they were wearing choir robes and singing with such amazing beauty and effort and clarity. For me, I didn't need to know what words they were singing- my heart was in tune. They were worshiping our Great God and inviting me in to do the same.
Then came the priest with the incense. It made me remember the joke about the guy in the dress with the smoking purse... a little too irreverent... but then I notice what he was doing with it. He was purifying the place. He was making the place smell good, he was preparing the congregation to be a worthing offering for our Lord. Suddenly it made me remember why I was there in the first place. I was there to give God my worship.
Then our priest began to speak. I think he was from Africa. But when he spoke, he spoke in eloquent French. And then he stopped. Then he spoke in German and stopped. Then he spoke in Spanish then he stopped. Then he spoke in English... "In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit...Amen." And I thought, "yup...this is exaclty where I am suppossed to be this Pentecost." Here in this church surrounded by people of so many different tongues (the Italian lady sitting next to us was so kind to give the kids life savers to keep them passified) being led by an African priest. I was reminded that I was worshiping a God who transcends any language barriers. And while I was thankful for the occasional English phrase, I realized that Pentecost was not really so much about the people hearing gospel in thier own particular language. It was bigger than that. It is about a God who could go deeper than language, right down into the heart where the language is more about yearnings and groanings. A God who can come into the midst of a place that we guard so tightly and remind us how much He loves us and how worthy He is of our worship.
I needed this experience. And I thank God for it.
NOTE - we're off to Taize in about 3 hours... we will update you when we get back.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
Off to France
Written by Chamie
In a few short hours, we will be catching the train to France, so with last minute packing and the hopes of getting at least a little sleep, our words will be short. We have had such an amazing, grace-filled, full and wide journey thus far... and our heads are spinning a bit with all there is to process. So we are looking forward to the quiet simplicity of the monastic community of Taize... and though our car and train trips have been "lovely" and "brilliant" (say these in a British accent for full effect), we are sooo looking forward to not getting in a motorized vehicle for six days straight while in Taize. So... all that said... you MIGHT hear from us in the next two days if our hotel in Paris has a computer we can use. However, after that we will be completely unplugged - NO electronics whatsoever - while in Taize from Monday, June 1 through Sunday, June 7. We will update the blog on our return to England and our Cambridge-area "home-base" on Monday, June 8th. Until then, you can know that Tim continues to be up to silliness and tricks. When I said that I was missing my sunglasses that I left at home in the U.S., Tim suggested that I go into the store and ask for some "wobbly-goggles." He said this in all seriousness. I looked at him and said, "Excuse me?" He repeated himself, "You know, wobbly-goggles - that's what they call sunglasses in England." You would think after ten years of marriage, that I would know he is tricking me, but I stared at him dumbfounded, wondering if that's what I really was supposed to say. Then he burst out laughing. Fortunately, I didn't embarrass myself. But we've had our humbling moments trying to "fit in" to British life - I did learn for instance, that the British do not roam from their hotel room in Durham down to the pool in their swimsuit - only swanky Americans do such parading. Just not polite. Oops. So pray that we don't do anything too offensive in France - and that Tim behaves himself as best he can! Oh, and that his French floods back to him!
In a few short hours, we will be catching the train to France, so with last minute packing and the hopes of getting at least a little sleep, our words will be short. We have had such an amazing, grace-filled, full and wide journey thus far... and our heads are spinning a bit with all there is to process. So we are looking forward to the quiet simplicity of the monastic community of Taize... and though our car and train trips have been "lovely" and "brilliant" (say these in a British accent for full effect), we are sooo looking forward to not getting in a motorized vehicle for six days straight while in Taize. So... all that said... you MIGHT hear from us in the next two days if our hotel in Paris has a computer we can use. However, after that we will be completely unplugged - NO electronics whatsoever - while in Taize from Monday, June 1 through Sunday, June 7. We will update the blog on our return to England and our Cambridge-area "home-base" on Monday, June 8th. Until then, you can know that Tim continues to be up to silliness and tricks. When I said that I was missing my sunglasses that I left at home in the U.S., Tim suggested that I go into the store and ask for some "wobbly-goggles." He said this in all seriousness. I looked at him and said, "Excuse me?" He repeated himself, "You know, wobbly-goggles - that's what they call sunglasses in England." You would think after ten years of marriage, that I would know he is tricking me, but I stared at him dumbfounded, wondering if that's what I really was supposed to say. Then he burst out laughing. Fortunately, I didn't embarrass myself. But we've had our humbling moments trying to "fit in" to British life - I did learn for instance, that the British do not roam from their hotel room in Durham down to the pool in their swimsuit - only swanky Americans do such parading. Just not polite. Oops. So pray that we don't do anything too offensive in France - and that Tim behaves himself as best he can! Oh, and that his French floods back to him!
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Saint Aidan
Written by Aidan
I felt exited to go to where the person I was named after lived. We went to Sunday morning worship where St. Aidan once preached. Aidan spread the word of God by walking a lot. On a sign it said, "Aidan cultivated peace and love, purity and humility; he was above anger and greed, and despised pride and conceit; he set himself to keep and teach the laws of God, and was diligent in study and prayer. He used his priestly authority to keep the proud and the powerful in check; he tenderly comforted the sick; he relieved and protected the poor." I took a picture by two different Aidan statues, but we can't show the pictures yet because we don't have the right thing. I bought a quill and ink like they used to write the Bible.
I felt exited to go to where the person I was named after lived. We went to Sunday morning worship where St. Aidan once preached. Aidan spread the word of God by walking a lot. On a sign it said, "Aidan cultivated peace and love, purity and humility; he was above anger and greed, and despised pride and conceit; he set himself to keep and teach the laws of God, and was diligent in study and prayer. He used his priestly authority to keep the proud and the powerful in check; he tenderly comforted the sick; he relieved and protected the poor." I took a picture by two different Aidan statues, but we can't show the pictures yet because we don't have the right thing. I bought a quill and ink like they used to write the Bible.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Underground
Driving has done us well. We've made it from the southern part of England through the "Midlands" to the Holy Island of Lindisfarne and now to Durham. Tomorrow, we return to our "home base" near Cambridge and turn in the rental car. The rest of the time here in Europe, we will be traveling by train or by bus.
There are many, many things we could say... but one theme that has connected our different parts of England is "underground." In Bath, we saw what treasure an everyday-dig brought forth - the discovery of the ancient Roman baths. Not far from there, we took the children to Wookey Hole where we explored underground caves with a spectacularly clear river running through it. In northern England, we explored castles and saw the "underground" very scary dungeons. On the Holy Island*, the road went underground - or maybe better said "underwater" - as it does each day as the tide comes in and out. You can only travel to and from the island at certain times... thus we arrived by road in the morning and left when the road reappeared in the evening.
So much story lies beneath. In fact, maybe it is safe to say that the real story lies beneath. This is true of our own individual stories, too. People meet each other at surface level and we often get no further - not even at church. But we have stories underneath - sometimes terrifying and hurtful (like dungeons)... sometimes healing (like the baths)... sometimes intriguing (like the road to the island)... but those stories always reveal something. So dig into your own story... we've had to do some digging into ours... like Chamie discovering that "Lord Shelburne" (that's her maiden name, an English name) is a well-known, prominent man around here. We've had to wrestle with our undersides, the good and bad that travel brings out of you. There are so many stories underneath... so, yes, listen and learn from your own underground story... and take the time, too, to get to know someone else a little bit deeper.
We will tell you more story when we get the chance. Until then, thank you for the prayers; you are in ours, too.
* We will have Aidan write to you about the Holy Island - where St. Aidan was a missionary in 635 AD.
There are many, many things we could say... but one theme that has connected our different parts of England is "underground." In Bath, we saw what treasure an everyday-dig brought forth - the discovery of the ancient Roman baths. Not far from there, we took the children to Wookey Hole where we explored underground caves with a spectacularly clear river running through it. In northern England, we explored castles and saw the "underground" very scary dungeons. On the Holy Island*, the road went underground - or maybe better said "underwater" - as it does each day as the tide comes in and out. You can only travel to and from the island at certain times... thus we arrived by road in the morning and left when the road reappeared in the evening.
So much story lies beneath. In fact, maybe it is safe to say that the real story lies beneath. This is true of our own individual stories, too. People meet each other at surface level and we often get no further - not even at church. But we have stories underneath - sometimes terrifying and hurtful (like dungeons)... sometimes healing (like the baths)... sometimes intriguing (like the road to the island)... but those stories always reveal something. So dig into your own story... we've had to do some digging into ours... like Chamie discovering that "Lord Shelburne" (that's her maiden name, an English name) is a well-known, prominent man around here. We've had to wrestle with our undersides, the good and bad that travel brings out of you. There are so many stories underneath... so, yes, listen and learn from your own underground story... and take the time, too, to get to know someone else a little bit deeper.
We will tell you more story when we get the chance. Until then, thank you for the prayers; you are in ours, too.
* We will have Aidan write to you about the Holy Island - where St. Aidan was a missionary in 635 AD.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Driving Lessons
Written by Chamie
After several panicked gasps from me, after several snarls from Tim, and after approximately 23 wrong turns (those damn British roundabouts), we concluded that driving through England could be a very strong test of our marriage. Getting to and from Coventry yesterday was quite a... spectacle, I guess you could say. If you are unfamiliar with Coventry, the cathedral there was bombed during World War II. The ruins stand next to the newly built cathedral as a testament to peace and reconciliation. As I made my way up the stairs and stood before the rubbled altar, I could do nothing but weep. I felt heavy with the weight of war and hate and violence. I imagined what my grandfather must have faced when he fought in Europe. I thought of him crying decades later as he held my mother's hand while watching SAVING PRIVATE RYAN at the movie theater. And then the words of Jesus, there at that rubbled altar, spoke to me in an utterly overwhelming way, "Father, forgive them." I couldn't stop my tears. We as Christians are called to such radical forgiveness. This also includes forgiving our husbands for getting in the wrong lane, our wives for muttering over errors and maps, and the British for their roundabouts.
Today was much easier in terms of driving. It helps when you are following a local. We have been richly blessed with Mr. and Mrs. George & Linda Denman, the parents-in-law of one of Tim's best friends from high school. They live in a little place called Stoney Stratton. The NEW part of their home was built in 1796 - the older part, probably about 300 years before that. We are all quite taken by the fact that we have been warmly welcomed into this beautiful historical home - with such lovely grounds to boot. Today Linda led us to Wells Cathedral and Glastonbury Abbey. We stopped on the roadside to picnic in a random meadow on the way between the two locations; the children thought this was rather grand. Tim and I were struck, in particular, by Glastonbury. It is said to be the beginning point of Christianity in England. Today, though much-visited, the abbey lies in ruins, not due to bombing, but reformation, changing tides, neglect... After touring the abbey grounds, Tim and I strolled the main street of town and noted a shop for physic reading, a Sufi library, a store called Ying and Yang, places to buy things like crystals and candles and oils, and about every other form of spirituality you can imagine. In the car on the way home, we talked about how you live the truth of Jesus in such an eclectic world. We were able to talk theology and drive safely at the same time - a true accomplishment.
Tonight we lit the candle and gave thanks for forgiveness, truth, the light of Jesus, hospitality, grace, and safe travels. Amen.
After several panicked gasps from me, after several snarls from Tim, and after approximately 23 wrong turns (those damn British roundabouts), we concluded that driving through England could be a very strong test of our marriage. Getting to and from Coventry yesterday was quite a... spectacle, I guess you could say. If you are unfamiliar with Coventry, the cathedral there was bombed during World War II. The ruins stand next to the newly built cathedral as a testament to peace and reconciliation. As I made my way up the stairs and stood before the rubbled altar, I could do nothing but weep. I felt heavy with the weight of war and hate and violence. I imagined what my grandfather must have faced when he fought in Europe. I thought of him crying decades later as he held my mother's hand while watching SAVING PRIVATE RYAN at the movie theater. And then the words of Jesus, there at that rubbled altar, spoke to me in an utterly overwhelming way, "Father, forgive them." I couldn't stop my tears. We as Christians are called to such radical forgiveness. This also includes forgiving our husbands for getting in the wrong lane, our wives for muttering over errors and maps, and the British for their roundabouts.
Today was much easier in terms of driving. It helps when you are following a local. We have been richly blessed with Mr. and Mrs. George & Linda Denman, the parents-in-law of one of Tim's best friends from high school. They live in a little place called Stoney Stratton. The NEW part of their home was built in 1796 - the older part, probably about 300 years before that. We are all quite taken by the fact that we have been warmly welcomed into this beautiful historical home - with such lovely grounds to boot. Today Linda led us to Wells Cathedral and Glastonbury Abbey. We stopped on the roadside to picnic in a random meadow on the way between the two locations; the children thought this was rather grand. Tim and I were struck, in particular, by Glastonbury. It is said to be the beginning point of Christianity in England. Today, though much-visited, the abbey lies in ruins, not due to bombing, but reformation, changing tides, neglect... After touring the abbey grounds, Tim and I strolled the main street of town and noted a shop for physic reading, a Sufi library, a store called Ying and Yang, places to buy things like crystals and candles and oils, and about every other form of spirituality you can imagine. In the car on the way home, we talked about how you live the truth of Jesus in such an eclectic world. We were able to talk theology and drive safely at the same time - a true accomplishment.
Tonight we lit the candle and gave thanks for forgiveness, truth, the light of Jesus, hospitality, grace, and safe travels. Amen.
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