Return to Rome

Greetings to the few of you who still check this blog out... I have been terribly delinquent about posting lately (I blame it on London's unseasonably cold weather, making my fingers too stiff to type) and therefore have a huge backlog of great posts to get to. I'll be putting those up this week.

In the meantime, my husband and I have made a safe return to Rome for the final three months of the fellowship. We've resettled in a new part of town in a significantly smaller apartment, but we're doing quite well - especially since the weather has been gorgeous! Tomorrow I'll register for another semester of classes at the Angelicum, and we'll hit the ground running from there.

I hope all is well for you, and that you'll continue to enjoy reading along with some of my experiences and thoughts throughout this incredible year.

Ascension Day At St. Paul's

[Jesus said] "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight. Acts 1:8-9

When my younger sister was here in London with me, we stumbled across an amazing surprise. Typically, St. Paul's offers a noon service without communion, but as we wandered through the church we knew something special was about to happen. Set up to the side was a huge bowl, which seemed like a punch-bowl sized thurible, and smoke was just starting to rise from it. Communion chalices were coming out as well, so we realized that perhaps we would be interested in this particular service.

Since we hadn't been following the liturgical calendar closely that week, we were surprised to learn that we had found ourselves in church on Ascension Day. So, before we climbed up to the very top of the dome in St. Paul's, we paused with a handful of other tourists to celebrate the mystery of Christ's ascension.

The service itself was lovely, with a special choral ensemble for the occasion and an encouraging sermon which did nothing to help understand the strangeness of the ascension itself but nonetheless assured us it was all a good thing. But most remarkable to me was the cloud of smoke that rose up to the very top of the church's iconic dome. Part-way through the service more incense was added, creating fresh clouds wafting up through the church. After the service, we climbed into the upper galleries where we could not only still smell it, but we could actually still see the smoke hanging in the air. The whole atmosphere of the church had been literally changed.

I wonder what it must have been like for the disciples on the day that they saw Jesus ascend into heaven. I can't even picture their level of surprise; it certainly doesn't even register on the same scale as my pleasant surprise at the noon worship. But their world was changed, too. I wonder how they felt Christ's presence around them, palpable and thick. Was it comforting to some, oppressive to others, and unsettling to still more? Did they wonder if the memories of their teacher would fade with time? Did it get harder to feel close to him the further their travels took them?

Most importantly, the atmosphere of their lives had been changed as well. While the smoke hanging in the church was temporal, the affect Christ had on their lives - and continues to have today - is not. His grace envelopes us completely and never washes off. Even though we cannot see him in the flesh today, his Spirit still remains with us, guiding and encouraging us at all time.

Most Powerful and Amazing God, with your Son's birth, life, death, resurrection and ascension, the world was completely and permanently changed. Give us the grace to daily live that change, serving you and our neighbor with complete dedication and joy. Send us your Spirit, that we can always be encouraged by your presence in our lives. We pray these things in the name of the Risen and Ascended Lord, Amen.

Anglican Evensong

I call upon you, O Lord; come quickly to me; give ear to my voice when I call to you. Let my prayer be counted as incense before you, and the lifting up of my hands as an evening sacrifice. - Psalm 141:1-2

One of the great things to experience here in London, in the heart of the Anglican faith, is Evensong. Almost every church offers it, but it is especially amazing to experience at Westminster Abbey and St. Paul's Cathedral. Both churches have incredible male choirs complete with young boy choristers who are taught and trained in on-site schools. The hard work certainly pays off. As soon as they open their mouths, you realize what choirs of angels might actually sound like.

Not only am I raised in the Lutheran tradition, but I swear I learned how to read by following hymns and liturgies in the big, green Lutheran Book of Worship. Therefore, I learned my place in a service: respond in the bold type, sing every verse of a hymn, and even if you're not actively vocalizing you should at least follow along. This is not the case in Evensong. In fact, the point of the service seems almost to be complete exclusion of the congregation. There are scripture readings and a sermon, and there's usually at least one hymn that the congregation joins in on, but otherwise the service is performed almost completely by the choir. Sometimes, it almost feels like a concert and not a service.

However, this does not necessarily bother me. Sometimes, I need to simply sit back and allow myself to be filled. Instead of worrying if I've found the right page or am pronouncing words correctly of even if I'm supposed to be speaking at all, I can revel in the gorgeous surroundings and resonant music. It gives worshipers space to pray, meditate, and be inspired to start another week fresh. The inspiration may come from the choir, but the prayers are nonetheless my own.

Even if you don't have access to a historic Anglican worshiping community, you can allow yourself time and space to open up and put everything before God. Too often, our days fly by so quickly that instead of lifting our hands in prayer and sacrifice, we let our heads hit the pillow heavy with worries and frustrations. Perhaps we would all do better if we took a step back, found music or a devotional that inspired us without demanding too much for us, and created a space to allow the Spirit to ease our burdens.

God of mercy, come to us in the evening and grant us rest. We offer you all we have, and ask that you take from us our fears and our frustrations in return. We can give you only our love and devotion, and in return you give us your everlasting grace. Grant that we might be still in your presence and turn to you faithfully in prayer. In Christ's name, Amen.

Penetecost Sunday At St. Paul's Cathedral

When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability. - Acts 2:1-4

What a fantastic and mysterious experience is Pentecost! Even as a child, I can remember being entranced by the event. Tongues of fire? Instantaneous linguists? Even the derisive on-lookers later in the story that determine all the disciples were drunk simply add to the allure of the story. Later in my life, preachers made me smile by focusing on the female aspects brought to the Trinity by the language used surrounding the Holy Spirit and her action through the Scriptures. Today, my Pentecost Sundays are filled with my prayers for the same to happen to me - especially if it means I could speak better Italian.

I knew I would want to experience this great event in a great place, and since I had a visitor in town, we went to St. Paul's Cathedral in London. This is an impressive space, rebuilt after the Great Fire of 1666 and iconic to the London skyline especially as it stood firm among the rubble during World War II. With its renowned choir and illustrious staff, I was sure we'd be in for a treat. I especially held out hope that I would be treated to a sermon that gave me a new perspective on an event that holds great importance not only for me, but for Christianity world-wide.

As has been the case more and more for me here, this was not exactly the case. Certainly, the service was amazing. After all, the space inside the cathedral soars and glows with mosaics, arches, domes and stained glass. The choir, complete with its boy's choir, simply danced through a series of classical and contemporary works that showcased their ability. The service itself was rich in Anglican pageantry, something I have come to truly appreciate. There was, however, an emptiness to the service in the spot I treasure most: the sermon.

After all, it is in the sermon that the preacher has the opportunity to take the scriptural stories and concepts and flesh them out. Not only does this aid comprehension, but it creates a space where each listener is invited in to the mystery and connect it to his or her own life and faith. Here, the Holy Spirit itself breaks in and opens hearts and minds. Granted, this can be done regardless of the quality of the sermon. Even if (God forbid!) we only ever preached boring, dry, rambling, expository sermons for the rest of the life of the church, somehow the Spirit would still break past our glazed-over eyes and yawning faces. However, if we take seriously the call to preach, we know that we are called to not just go through the motions but give everything we have.

The trend I seem to notice here, especially in churches that see mostly tourists for a congregation and draw crowds based primarily on their history, is that the style and structure of a sermon's delivery is more important than its content. This leads to a great deals of sermons written in perfect three-point style, carefully written to include an educated vocabulary, spoken with impeccable diction and clarity. After about three minutes, the sermon is completely dead - but at least it sounds nice. Unfortunately, this sermon was no different. I had to simply bide my time until the choir started singing again, since at least they brought passion to the Word.

I realize that preachers all have different gifts, and for everyone who is moved by a fervent, witty sermon there is someone who needs a deliberate, methodical sermon. I thank God that there is this variety in preachers, as we would otherwise be a very boring lot. But I do hope that the Holy Spirit would indeed fill each and every preacher with a palpable fire that not only gives them style but substance, not just form but function, not only clarity but conviction.

Triune God, as you came to the disciples in tongues of fire, light up our hearts today. Give our words and actions the fullness of your grace so that we can live with the fire of your love. May our words be full of not only wisdom but passion as we share your Word in this world. We pray these things in your holy name, Amen.

Wesley Day

When [Jesus] came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to say to them, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing." Luke 4:16-21

Living in London, at a different end of the Reformation from Rome, offers a different set of possibilities and options for a seminarian. One of these was Wesley Day, a day of celebration for the conversion of John Wesley. They do indeed use the word "conversion" in this strongly Anglican city, although Wesley always held that his beliefs were within the bounds of Anglican faith. Held by Wesley’s Chapel & Leysian Mission in John Wesley's chapel, the event was to celebrate the life and faith of an influential man and his family. The event was well-attended by representatives of many denominations across London, and all seemed to be

We began with a service of Eucharist at Wesley’s Chapel, which was wonderful in its own right. Especially delightful was the impromptu hymn-singing during distribution, where the organist simply picked up when the congregation started. The service was followed immediately by a procession to Susanna Wesley’s Grave in Bunhill Fields Cemetery for a wreath-laying. The cemetery is just across the street from the chapel and made a fitting tribute to a wonderful woman whose husband and sons played a very influential role in the development of the protestant belief system, not just in England but in the United States as well. I was honored to be a part of the ceremony.

However, seeing as I'm on a preaching fellowship, I was most particularly interested in hearing the sermon for this service. After all, Wesley was known for his preaching, a style and delivery that seemed to galvanize people. Part of me truly hoped that the preacher would even haul us outside Wesley-style to hear the Word in the open air. Indeed, the preacher did know quite a bit about John Wesley and his brother Charles, and spent a great deal of time outlining their lives. Unfortunately, that is the only thing he did. He took no time to bring us the Word, he simply paid tribute to an important family.

I have heard it said that you know you're headed the right direction in a sermon if Christ had to die for your words. To put it another way, when we preach, we do not deliver a eulogy. We don't talk in niceties or focus on earthly matters. We can use these things, but they are means to an end. When we preach, we preach Christ and him crucified. It may be a whole lot easier to talk about smart people or academic concepts, but these great things do not a sermon make. Wesley would likely be very frustrated if a service in his honor focused on him and not the Word of God.

In a way, Christ's sermon in Luke seems to defeat this logic. After all, he's just talking about himself - something novice preachers are warned to stay away from. However, this is the Son of God we're talking about. He is trying to reveal God's own presence and promise to those around him. No matter how revolutionary this message is, it is essential to the life of those listening. In these days, when Christ is no longer physically here to teach us directly, it is left to the preachers to bring the Word of God to worship. Even in an individual's daily life, we are called not just to be good people and to say nice things, but to actively proclaim Christ in our lives.

Our Gracious God, we are weak. Your Word is so great that sometimes we are unsure how to proclaim it. Forgive us for taking the easy way, for beating around the bush, for considering ourselves unworthy of Your Son's gift. Send your Holy Spirit to inspire us, so that our words might be your Words. Bless especially those who preach, that they might continue to have the courage to speak the truth in love. In Christ's name, Amen.

We Are Safe

If you have heard about the bombs found around London today, know that my husband and I are fine - most importantly, so is everyone else. If you haven't heard this news yet, there's a CNN article here, or a BBC article here. At any rate, at 2 am this morning London time, a nail and gas bomb was disarmed outside a nightclub in London. Later today, the area around Buckingham Palace and Oxford Street, both very popular spots for tourists and locals, was shut down due to a second suspicious vehicle. No one was hurt and no one has claimed responsibility.

In these frightening times, we ask for your prayers for the people of London as they try to stay safe and sane. Please also keep in your prayers those across the world who live in constant threat of terror, danger, attack and suffering. In spite of all the evil we confront daily, we have a good God on whom we can always trust.

Stonehenge

Then Paul stood in front of the Areopagus and said, "Athenians, I see how extremely religious you are in every way. For as I went through the city and looked carefully at the objects of your worship, I found among them an altar with the inscription, "To an unknown god.' What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you. The God who made the world and everything in it, he who is Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in shrines made by human hands, nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mortals life and breath and all things. - Acts 17:22-25

Stonehenge stands in the middle of a field in the Salisbury plain, surrounded on three sides by grazing sheep and, unfortunately, on one side by a major highway. Still, the ancient site holds a huge draw to tourists, historians and conspiracy theorists alike. While I had already been here once, we decided having a guest in town was a good reason for us all to go.

The site is now carefully fenced off and direct access to the stones is only allowed by specially approved groups, occasionally tourists but usually school groups. During opening hours, paying visitors are allowed to get within about 50 feet of some of the stones. This is to prevent not only the usual vandalism, but also attempts to pull down and destroy the stones. As it turns out, Stonehenge carries with it all sorts of legends and rumors about who built the circle and why - as you can imagine, most of them involve myths about pagans and the devil. Some have taken these myths so seriously that they want the place razed.

The thing is, building on Stonehenge began in 3100 BC and didn't finish until 1500 BC, long before Christ was even born, much less Christianity existed. Even the ancient Hebrew faith had a long way to go before it could even think of spreading; for that matter, the British Isles are a long trip from the Middle East. In other words, these people had no way of being Christian, much less anti-Christian. Instead, what they built was simply representative of what they had at the time, whether it was their ancient religion or a way to follow the seasons.

Something about the careful construction of the site, delicate selection of obscure stones, and astronomical line-up of its stones speaks of some kind of recognition of a higher cause. After all, working for over 1500 years on the same site seems to indicate its importance to the people of that time. Its correlation with movements of the sun seems to reinforce its possible religious indication. When humans build things worthy of a higher power, humans want those things to be significant and glorious.

In many ways, the ancient people that built Stonehenge are not much different from us today. In one very big similarity, they were clearly searching for that power greater than them that created all things and guides all things. Somehow, they were searching for that God which we now know throughout history and in the person of Jesus Christ. This might be dangerously universalist for some, but I don't see it as such. Just as Paul knew that the Athenians were searching for the final, true identity of God, perhaps the ancients at Stonehenge were doing the same. Today, people reach for money or fame as illusive gods, looking for anything to fill the void that only the Creator can.

I admire Stonehenge for the immense work these ancient people put into it, building their altar to an unknown god, with great respect for the ways humanity has tried to recognize its Creator. I lift up my prayer that one day, we will all be joined together in faith on the last day.

God of all things, we are constantly searching for you. Sometimes we go astray and put other gods - whether material or immaterial - first in our lives. Let your Holy Spirit guide us to truth and remind us that you are always greatest and first in all things. Let the searching of others teach us how to better see and hear you in our daily lives. We pray all these things in Christ's holy name, Amen.

Salisbury Cathedral - Prisoner's Candle

Then [the Son of Man] will say to those at his left hand, "You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.' Then they also will answer, "Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?' Then he will answer them, "Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.' - Matthew 25: 41-45

Having been to Salisbury Cathedral the last time I was in the UK, I didn't expect to see much that would surprise me. The baptismal font (see post below) was the first indicator that I was wrong. Since the church is, as I mentioned, a living and active congregation, it makes some changes in its architecture and decoration as well. For instance, I recall the last time I was there the Cathedral had set up one of its chapels as a special place to pray for the farming families affected by hoof and mouth disease, which was destroying livestock at that time. Since the epidemic has passed, the memorial is dismantled.

One thing I cannot recall seeing before is a candle in barbed wire, the symbol of Amnesty International and a general symbol for remembrance of prisoners of conscience. In fact, the gorgeous blue stained glass window at the back of the church, right behind the candle, was only constructed in the 1980s as a memorial and tribute to prisoners of conscience around the world. (Apparently its illusory, modern design is a bit of a scandal to some.) In all, the set up in the oldest part of the church makes for a very moving place of reflection and prayer.

For most people, prisoners are people who deserve what they've gotten. People go to prison for crimes they've committed, and whether you think jail is punishment, rehabilitation, or prohibition, if you end up there you broke the law and deserve little mercy. But what if the law itself is unjust? What if jail accomplishes one of its purposes and you are rehabilitated - only to await your death, either imposed or eventual? And what of the fact that we are all created good by God and deserving of mercy, no matter our crimes?

Nowhere are these questions more painful than in the face of prisoners of conscience. Because of their beliefs - usually against corrupt governments or painful oppression - these people are locked away. In countries where free speech and dissension have some kinds of protections, these kinds of prisoners sound like myths. But they are real, and we are called to defend and protect them.

Better yet, Christ calls us to help those imprisoned no matter what their crime. Jesus' story in Matthew 25 doesn't qualify only non-violent prisoners, he simply says "in prison". While it is exhausting, sometimes self-destructive work, those who serve and minister to people in prison are doing some of the most important ministry at all. This candle in Salisbury reminded me not only of those in prison unjustly, but those in prison at all - and especially, those who give everything they have to reach out to those prisoners.

Gracious God, who loves sinners, we know we all fall short of your intent for our lives. We point fingers at those who the world punishes more harshly for their sins, all the while ignoring your command to love them no matter what. Forgive us all our sins, and grant us each the strength to serve you through the least of these. Be with those jailed for whatever reason, that they might know of your love and forgiveness no matter what. Through Christ our Lord, Amen.

Salisbury Cathedral - Baptismal Font

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name's sake. - Psalm 23:1-3

Most of us have heard this passage more than a few times, and while most of us also have a very positive association with it, some of us can't hear it without thinking of a time of sickness, injury, stress or death. People immediately associate Psalm 23 with faith in general, but especially faith under duress.

I came across this baptismal font in Salisbury Cathedral, a church built in 1258 with an incredible history and gorgeous architecture. However, one of the best things about this site is that it is a thriving contemporary church as well as an ancient landmark. One of the ways they live this out is by continuing to adjust the site for their church's needs; in this case, it meant building a new, more modern and accessible, baptismal font in the center aisle of the church.

It pours continuously from each point of the roughly cruciform basin, falling almost silently into an enclosed catch below. The water comes exactly up to the top of the basin, making the surface of the moving water perfectly still and leaving the stained glass to reflect in it. Some tourists clearly mistake the font for a fountain and toss coins in, as you can see in the picture.

Making this baptismal water all the more poignant is the upcoming baptism of my first niece on Pentecost, less than a week away. She will come out of the waters as a newly washed Child of God, and the community will declare their commitment to raise her in faith. I will not be able to be there in person, but only in spirit.

These are the times when I think of Psalm 23. When the Psalmist tells us of these still waters that we are led past, I think of the quiet times when faith is sustained and nurtured. All too often, our faith only matters to us when it is tested; we forget that faith is also our daily bread. God leads us out into green pastures every day, not just on the days we know we need guidance, but even on the days we think we're fine on our own. My little niece will be claimed for a shepherd who will show her the way even when she'd rather go another direction. Still waters may not be very dramatic, but they're the stuff of daily life.

I dipped my fingers in the font and prayed for my niece, for the ones I love and miss, and for the grace to keep the faith on even the most mundane days.

Our Shepherd, you are a constant strength and guide even if - especially if - we think we're fine on our own. Remind us always of your love and care, so that when our faith is tested we will remember the green pastures and the still waters. We pray these things in your name, Amen.

The Tower of London

Peace be to the whole community, and love with faith, from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Grace be with all who have an undying love for our Lord Jesus Christ - Ephesians 6:23-24

England in general, and London in particular, has a long history of cultural diversity. Since the time of the British Empire, the English people found themselves in contact with people of different colors, beliefs and lifestyles. While this didn't initially lead to a more tolerant, diverse community, it certainly has influenced it today. For all the trouble the US has with racism and intolerance, the effect seems considerably less in the UK. This little country appears to have assimilated well.

However, its history with religious tolerance is considerably more checkered. Starting with Henry VIII's break with the Catholic Church in 1533, England fell into a Protestantism of his own devising. What started as a way for Henry to expand his personal power in the country and shift of his old wife quickly became a dangerous, oppressive system whereby adhering to Catholicism or questioning Henry's status as head of the church was treason and punishable by death.

Nowhere does the checkered history of Henry VIII and his influence on faith and politics in England become more apparent than in the Tower of London. Here much of England's early history plays out; in particular, the imprisonment and execution of a few famous people and countless unnamed victims of religious divisiveness. As a central fortress of the kingdom, it symbolized the country with all its strength and power. Therefore, it was also the place where the heads of traitors were showcased and the highest-profile criminals were killed, away from the prying eyes of the public.

After months in Rome, it should come as no surprise that a state-run church can wield such unquestioned and corrupt power over peoples' lives. However, it still amazes and frightens me. While I have never questioned the value of faith in individuals of power and authority, situations like these have always made me flinch at the suggestion of established state faiths. After all, the religious divide between Protestant and Catholic continued to play out in recent memory between Ireland and England. In the name of religion, but likely only in the name of power, people continue to die.

Christians killing people of other faiths is horrifying enough, but when Christians attack those who believe in Christ as they do with just a few differences the shock is incredible. Our faith calls us to unity, yet we place ambition, power, and greed above even Jesus himself. May our past remind us of the need for unity.

God of the nations, while we call out to you we deny others their place in your Kingdom. Forgive us our selfish assumptions that we deserve you more than others, and grant us the grace to love our neighbors as we love you. May all who call you Lord be able to call each other Sister and Brother. We pray this in Christ's name, Amen.