England, Romans and a little theological discourse

I have been meditating on a passage of scripture for the last week or so. I arrived in England, welcomed warmly by the wonderful Amy Walters, and began the long process of unpacking my belongings and turning my room into more than just a storage space for myself and my possession, but into a little piece of home. I’ll eventually upload my pictures of Wesley House, and greater Cambridge, but this evening is dedicated to my meditations on a bit of scripture that I read my second or third night in England. I couldn’t pack many of my books, so I had to suffice with my Bible, Europe on a Shoestring (by Lonely Planet), the Essentials of Christian Theology and a novel called Looking for Alaska by the marvelous John Green.  I decided – rather randomly in fact – to read through Romans in anticipation of a year studying the New Testament. And a slice of scripture leapt out at me and had been marinating with me for the last week.

Romans 10: 9 – 13 reads (italics added for emphasis):

Because if you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved For one believes with the heart and so is justified, and one confesses with the mouth and so is saved. The scripture says “No one who believes in him will be put to shame.” For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; the same Lord is Lord of all and is generous to all who call on him. For, “Everyone who calls on the Lord shall be saved.”

This has been rattling around my brain for a few days. It’s been making me really think and pray. All who call upon the Lord shall be saved. That’s a statement with huge implications. It’s a statement that challenges us as Christians to love more widely and more deeply then we may want to or think is possible.

For example, the Church of England (furthermore referred to as CoE) is in a precarious position. They are having serious in-fighting concerning the ordination of female Bishops. Now, the Episcopal Church has blown through this (in fact they have a female Presiding Bishop), and I – naively – assumed that the CoE had already moved past these debates. But they haven’t, and they are hotly contested. In fact, when Katherine Jefferts-Schori visited Southwark Cathedral in London this summer, she had to carry her Bishop’s mitre (her special hat) rather than wear it, because the CoE doesn’t recognize her right to be consecrated as a Bishop (she’s the elected head of the Episcopal Church).  This same summer, we as the Presbyterian Church USA (henceforth, PCUSA) elected Cindy Bolbach as the Moderator – and she’s not even a minister! We have embraced the role of women as equal sources of scriptural authority. But the role of women is still being debated in the CoE – and sense I live with four CoE ordinands, we talk about it a lot.

What is comes down to, I think, is understanding the breadth of scripture. People quote 1 Corinthians 14:34 and 1 Timothy 2:11-12 as reasons not to ordain women. I shake my head and think about this passage or Romans. “The same Lord is the Lord of all and is generous to all who call on him.” God is generous to those who support the ordination of women (or gays, or divorcees, etc) and those that oppose it. God is generous to Catholics, Methodists and Presbyterians. God is generous to Pentecostals and Anglicans.  God is generous to UGA fans and UNC fans, alike (hard to believe, I know). God is generous. How simple, yet how profound.

Living in  Methodist house as a Presbyterian (who is still struggling with what it means to be in the Reformed tradition) , in a country with an Anglican state church has brought this passage of scripture into perspective. We will disagree as a Christian community. Sometimes we will disagree so heartily that it will be hard to stand in the same room. And yet, “the same Lord is Lord of all,” God is greater than our theological differences. God is bigger than our arguments about politics, or evolution, or the right to life. God is greater than all the things that divide us. While those issues are important, what is most important is the knowledge that God is generous to us and to those that believe differently. Stepping out of the comfort zone of American society – which with all its own hiccups and problems is still familiar – and embracing the discourse here in England reminds me of how essential this scripture is. We are one body – we will disagree, but God is generous to us all.

Thanks be to God! Amen. :)

Saigon by night

A clip from my brief trip over to Vietnam. Saigon is like another world compared to the sleepy streets of Cambodia.

As long as we're being honest...

Packing is really difficult. Especially when you're trying to fit nearly a year into two less-than-50lb suitcases. Praise the Lord for vacuum sealed bags. And luggage scales. we're at t-minus 1 weeks and counting! :)

Cambodia Revisited

Here are a few pictures that I've touched up with photo editing. As I pack for Cambridge, my thoughts are often back in Cambodia. Undoubtedly, my thoughts will be in Cambodia for a long, long time.

Little House of Dreams

My aunt and uncle's cottage outside Duluth, Minnesota. It's a picture perfect oasis of bright flowers, lush lawns and the friendly giggle of a brook. I couldn't dream this little haven up if I tried.

Praise God for small, nature-encircled mercies.

Wanderlust and Christian Community

Why is it that we love to travel? This spirit of wanderlust as my friend Tim calls it lives and breathes inside me. It’s rather like an unscratchable itch: it is satiated but never exactly satisfied. There’s this desire to push a little further, go a little deeper. As I begin to plan my year in England, I am overwhelmed by the number of remarkable travel destinations that spot western and eastern Europe. I have a friend living in Barcelona who has graciously invited me to visit and stay with her family. A fellow sorority sister from undergrad is studying architecture in Rome. It would be a sin not to see the City of Lights at night, or (as the daughter of an art professor) amble through the Louvre. Should I make a break for it and head north, into Scandinavia and visit my fatherland? Is it worth the higher costs to visit Norway and see the lands of my ancestors? What about Britain; how much of this “small island” should I consume in my lust for engaging and imbibing new places, people and experiences? And, how much is too much?

I’m going to England to study theology. I am going to England to encounter God in the trappings of a different culture. I am going to England to engage the ecumenical Christian family in way that I cannot do in Atlanta. I am going to England to be a fish out of water. But, in my desire to take advantage of my proximity to the wonders of continental Europe, have I, am I missing the point? I mean, I have wanted to go to Paris and Rome since I was old enough to want to travel. The books of art with the fabulous color photographs of the Sistine Chapel and the assorted marvels of the Parisian art captured my imagination as a child. The history that unfolds within those old city streets has fascinated me, seduced me and excited me. Aside from Jerusalem – which is the single place I want to visit most in all the world – Paris and Rome stand at the top of my most-want-to-see list. And, I can’t deny that a significant reason I am excited about moving to England and going to Cambridge is that I will be able to go and visit these two and other places of interest. But at what point must I swallow that wanderlust and remember that I am there to study, to be a invested member of a Christian community? How do I balance my hot desire to see and do as much as possible, with my great need to commit to a community for all kinds of education and engagement?

 I have promised myself 4 trips while I’m gone. I will visit Paris, Rome and Barcelona. I hope that my 4^th trip will be to Norway, although time and costs will directly impact its potential. I have a month off from December 3^rd to January 3^rd. Maybe I can take a week and backpack someplace on the warmish side. Other destinations of interest are: Amsterdam for the Tulip festival, Germany for Oktoberfest, Jerusalem (although I feel like that might be cheating myself out of really engaging Europe), Istanbul (I feel the same about this as I feel about Jerusalem), Bratislava and Prague where I have a family friend, and Athens Greece to see the ruins.

There are so many places to go and things to see. I could spend a lifetime discovering the hidden treasures of Europe. But I know that I must rein myself in and keep myself oriented around my work at Cambridge and my commitment to a community of faith. That is why I’m going, after all.

Cabin by a Lake

My family owns a small fishing cabin that sits right on the water in Ontario, Canada. The Cabin was built in the '70s and exudes the traditional (and loved but stereotypical) exposed wood interior. The scenery is breath-taking (and if I wasn't having to use a library computer, I'd upload some shots). I can look out onto the calm waters of the lake, surrouned by towering fir trees and covered by a wide blue sky. It's quite, and I listen to the shuffling of squirrels and rabbits, hear the squabbling of woods ducks and blue jays.
It's nice to get away from the constant to-and-fro, go go go of city life.
Mostly. I really miss having the Internet. Not being able to connect with friends and family at will is not only frustrating, it's lonely. Any half-spun fantasy I had of being a pioneer has been thoroughly dashed.
But, it is a beautiful country. Even if the wifi leaves much to be desired.