The Witness of the Church (July 20)

Now that we have internet service, I'll add some pictures soon, but just catching up on old blogs...

(I’m typing onboard a train, that appears to be going well over 100 mph, and we’re somewhere along the countryside of England – or maybe we’re under the English Channel by now [the windows are completely dark]… When we arrive in Paris, one of my first missions is to get the whizbang computer guy at the hotel to make the doomaflotchy and the gadget talk, so I can post all this stuff. So, if you’re reading this, know that I found the computer doc… or you’re witnessing a cyber-miracle of the most impressive sorts.)

Here are my notes, filled in, from Sunday’s touring…

We did something today that few tourists do… we spent three=and-a-half hours at church. (And we’re supposed to be on Sabbatical!?) At Matt and Martha Kinney’s recommendation, we took the tube over to Bloomsbury Central Baptist Church. The building has been standing since 1848, but the welcome and the sermon and the wonderful meal following worship were all completely up to date. During the service, a student from Wake Forest Divinity School (yes, the one just down the road from you) was interviewed. Will Henderson was finishing a two-month internship, at the recommendation of our former professor and current friend, Dr. Bill Leonard (Dean of the divinity school); following worship we introduced ourselves. As it turns out, Will is the son of Bill Henderson – the same Bill Henderson who was one of my childhood heroes. (As the, then, youth minister of FBC, Rome, GA, we met Bill over a series of summers when my family traveled to Jekyll Island, GA, for a week of youth retreat. My parents are lifetime friends of the former Minister of Music there, hence our connection to Rome. As an impressionable young boy, I was quickly taken with the enthusiastic youth minister. One summer, Bill sported a blue, denim hat all week. I opinioned how much I liked it, and at the end of the week, it was mine for the taking. For many years, that had stayed in my room as a reminder of Bill’s influence. I haven’t seen him since then (35 years?), but it was good to be reintroduced to his son, in London!)

We dined with friends of Brian and Jenny Haymes, Brian and Faith Bowers, and their son, Richard. Richard, an adult who suffers from Down’s Syndrome, offered the blessing for the meal, “Grant bread to those who are hungry, and a hunger for justice to us who share this bread,” and during the meal he offered us a copy of a book of blessings used for these meals. Apparently Richard always offers the blessing – this is his “ministry” at the church, as the suggestion of a former minister – and a collection and printing of various of his offerings was sold to the church, the proceeds of which Richard returned to the church for a fundraiser. (He proudly contributed over 400 pounds to the offering.) This meal is offered every Sunday, prepared by volunteer teams, and diners include church members and guests – most who are comprised of some of London’s homeless and hungry.

One of our problems, quickly noted in this trip, is our proclivity to stay too long at EVERY PLACE… pushing us into the next and the next and the next item, at increasingly delinquent hours. No difference here… we arrived at the British Museum not long before 3:00 p.m.

NEWS FLASH… light just appeared in the windows, and the first road sign was in French. So I suppose we have emerged from the Chunnel dry and unscathed. (Just the thought of it is a little creepy!)

In trying to hit the highlights we spent too much time with the mummies. But we were not alone. You can hardly see all the swaddlingly-clothed for all the morbidly-interested, pressing their noses (or their lenses) to the glass. (Just ask the boys if you’re interested in seeing the 5,500 year old Egyptian – or any of the others – I think we’re bringing home a picture of every one!) And we glimpsed the Rosetta Stone, but only from a slight distance. Apparently the masses are even more interested in this black slab, inscribed with three languages, than they are the dead.

Which only proves that nothing ever dies – a language… a culture… a mummified corpse… Resurrection IS all around, if only we dare to see the ways God continues to give life, and to make it more abundant.

As a thumbnail of the rest of the day: though the shows were sold-out, we stopped by Mr. Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre for a sneak-peak… took in a cruise along the Thames (which the boys are still learning to pronounce)… and ate a real English dinner, at Porter’s restaurant in Covent Garden… before Tubing on home. (And navigating this underground maze is almost the highlight of the trip, in itself!)

The lesson for today was our impression of the work of the Church in the world. From our recent visits to the National Cathedral in Washington, St. Martins-in-the-fields, and Bloomsbury Baptist, we’re inspired by what Sam Lloyd, Dean of the Washington Cathedral, calls the “gospel work” they’re all doing. Even as world-class showplaces of art and architecture and history, places which could easily make their mission the taking of admission and selling the audio tours, these churches remain churches first – committed to worship and service in their own communities and throughout world.

A museum is a nice place to visit. But the world still needs to witness of the Church.

Thanks be to God.