The King's English

“The Americans are identical to the British in all respects except, of course, the language.” – Oscar Wilde

Today was simply “smashing” as we shared with the fellowship at Portrack Baptist Church, experienced British Premiership football at its finest at Middlesbrough, and took the train ride to London (note to selves – never travel on an English School Holiday weekend)…

Not only has our sojourn been missional, it has been educational as well (Who knew the name Randy could be so, well, Randy!) Since it is so ridiculously late, in lieu of deep thoughts tonight, we choose to present a little of the King’s English we have learned in our time across the pond thus far…

Amy-Jo: Those randy lollipops always push to the front of the queue when I need to pop to the loo…simply brilliant!

Karen: Bum (rear end)…Biscuit (Cookies!)…Engaged (i.e. “I’m currently engaged in the bathroom!)…Let (rent)…Pants (underwear…that’s why I got some strange looks when I asked if I should wear my courdory pants to school..)…Way Out (exit – as get me the way out from between AJ & Brian’s constant bickering like a brother and sister)

Jay: (Learned at the football match as the teams were coming onto the pitch)

MIDDLESBROGH FANS: Go Old ‘Brough Go On! (What 39,996 lifelong fans lagered up on about 5 pints apiece sounded like: goasdhfdoldasdfiopbroughzxygosa@%$@#*!)

PORTSMOUTH FANS: Tra-la-la-Tra-laaaaa Come on Portsmouth! (What 96 lagered up fans sounded like who were surrounded by an entire division of Scotland Yard watching their every move (no hooligan-schenanigans going on here): Well, honestly, I could hear over Amy-Jo’s heaving sobs at the beauty of a stadium full of people for the first time in her life who love soccer as much as she does…)

Brian Coates-of-Arms: [No Comment] Brian is still recovering from an international incident he instigated when he flashed what he previously believed to be the international sign for peace to a young lady he was “witnessing” to on the train and found out his gesture to be something quite other than what he originally believed…

So there you have it…lots of culture advancement and only one minor setback for US-British relations…Good night and cheers!

A School, an Abbey, and The Three-Legged Mare

The past 48 hours on the other side of the pond have been a blur of experience! Yesterday we spent in Norton Secondary School in Stockton, England, sharing mostly with students in small groups in their Religious Education courses. They don't have tourists often in this region, so it's interesting to be a novelty, just by the way you speak. Our British friends seem to think America is violent, that we live just like the movies, and that Jerry Springer and Elvis are our two greatest citizens ever...yes, we have a long, long way to go here. The school experience was challenging but amazing - challenging questions, the opportunity to connect on a personal level with students, and the chance to bring a smile to their face when we tell them we came all this way just to meet them. The need here is great...there is a heaviness to their hearts that hangs like the fog rolling in off the North Sea. They are looking for anyone who cares and anything to do...and any hope to hang on to. Out of 60 students maybe 5 shared that they were Christian. For the rest church is something ancient, for old people, that doesn't matter (all their own words). But their is hope for this place...an evening meeting of a brave trust of a few hearty souls demonstrated that there is a group of believers in this place who are mobilizing across denominational and traditional lines to reach out together and are quickly earning the right to be heard in this region, from everyone from Prime Minister Tony Blair to the little blonde-headed girl named Lucy whose face lit up when she saw "Americans!" had arrived.

Today was the chance to further build relationships with our British and US counterparts here as we toured two medieval cities and attending an evening meeting in castle together. Laughs were plenty as we commented on Brian's distrust of anything but chicken and pizza, planted the well-traveled Krisy Kremes for yet more photos, and walked through European lanes packed with shops and pubs carrying unique history and names such as the three-legged mare (quite a story there...). The Minster of York was breath-taking as one of the finest medieval cathedrals and the drive across the Moors was simultaneously stunning and depressing as the landscape is bleak yet retains a simple beauty all the same.

But it was Whitby and the Abbey ruins there that captured my heart today. There was something powerful about standing in the shell of the once-great cathedral there that was a metaphor for the spiritual condition of this nation. And looking out in the mist across the North Sea, it is fascinating to think that for thousands of years Saxons, Normans, Vikings, and missionaries have all sailed into this harbor with hopes of a new life. And there, among the eerie tombstones on the hillside next to St. Mary's was the marker of the legendary resting place of Saint Caedmon, his marker towering about the others, bearing the inscription: TO THE GLORY OF GOD AND IN MEMORY OF CAEDMON, THE FATHER OF ENGLISH SACRED SONG WHO FELL ASLEEP HARD 680. Apparently Caedmon, much like the son of Jesse, was a shepherd who played the harp. And on this hillside, almost 1400 years ago, he was given the gift of writing music for God, and that legacy has lasted to this day.

What in 1400 years will they remember about us? About our generation? What will be the lasting remnants be of our efforts? What are we giving our life to that matters?

Today, Amy-Jo shared a new Matt Redman song with me on her iPod...it was about God rescuing this land...bringing revival to this place...using people of passion and prayer to turn hearts toward him. And that connected the experience of the last two days for me. What if that is why we are here? What if God is going to allow us to play a small part in a massive spirital awakening on this shore, a revival that would begin in seemingly the unlikeliest of places on the planet - the forgotten North East of England?

If a three-legged mare can become a legend, surely the God who once moved upon these shores can again capture the heart of a generation.

Now it is time for me to fall asleep hard...cheers!

Stockon-on-Tees

3 planes. 2 trains. 1 crying baby. [No, I'm not referring to Brian here...] And , severly sleep deprived, we have finally arrived @ the fine home of Pete Spence, pastor of Portrack Baptist Church, Stockton-on-Tees, England! It's blustery, cold and spitting rain up here on the NE coast, but what else would you expect from the weather here?

Tonight we try to fool our bodies into thinking its time to go to bed. And then in the morning we lead an assembly and teach Religious Education classes at Norton Academy. This may sound impossible, [we know otherwise] but pray that we will be able to connect in 15 minutes with a group of students that we have ever met and that likely we will never meet again in a way that at least leads them to think about things that matter!

The church we're working with is a small but God-loving band of hearty and passionate souls. They have about 15 asylum-seekers worshipping with them for the past 2 years who have fled religious persecution in Iran. The government is cutting off their funds soon, leaving many homeless. This pastor is keeping all he can here at his house - what a great example of love in action. And it's a beautiful picture of the church's adopted "mission verse" from Luke 9:11 -

We aim at trying to continue what Jesus began when "he welcomed them and spoke to them about the kingdom of God, and healed those who needed healing."

We're All Beggars...

"Wherever he went, village or town or country crossroads, they brought their sick to the marketplace and begged him to let them touch the edge of his coat - that's all. And whoever touched him became well." (The Gospel of Mark, chapter vi, verse 56)

In all of my experience, one thing I'm sure of is this - we are all beggars reaching out for a touch. We all have need for something greater than ourselves. Most of humanity wallows around in the depths of their depravity and the life-sucking consequences that being broken brings. Most lives are reaching out for something, anything, that will fill the void they feel in their souls. Acting self-important by staying on a cell phone all day. Wallowing in an on-line fantasy world because life is painfully dull. 68,000 people fill the Coliseum to cheer madly for a game played by grown men in spandex pants who are paid obscene amounts of cash because we would rather be entertained than enlightened...

We are all on this sinking ship together - saints & sinners, rich & poor, healthy & sick, famous & forgotten. Why does Mark note that "all who touched him were healed" and not "all who he touched were healed?" Because their is honesty in the effort. There is confession in the act. The simple act of admitting you are broken, and that you don't where else to find that help but Jesus, is the humility that moves the heart of a Savior. There is freedom in this simple confession - mocking stares and bitter stubborn pride aside. Even a few fibers from the worn outer cloak of Jesus are better than all the medicine, therapy or level of distraction the world has ever dreamed.

So we reach out in our soul-bearing confession as ragamuffins, beggars and losers - it is us who need to reach out to touch you, Jesus.

Overcoming Blog-o-Phobia

The creation of this blog was a 29th birthday gift from my friend and favorite barista Seth. And while I love the idea of the blog and enjoy reading others, up to this point, I've actually made little use of my gift. While I've journaled since a teenager, I wasn't so sure about sharing my silly thoughts and random moods with the world - or wondered why anyone would like to spend their valuable time reading my musings in the first place.

But then it hit me - it was fear that was keeping me away.
Fear of letting people inside my world.
Fear of being "cool enough."
Fear of the unknown conversations that might follow.

So today I'm stepping out there. I won't share everything, because I believe in a world of excess that less is more. But if life is journey, then you need to be able to reflect on where you're at on the trail every now and then, to step back and look at the themes God is weaving into this chapter of your life - and share that with others, with the prayer that maybe you will connect with something in their soul, something common to the human experience, something that will lead to a greater ability to embrace this mystery of paradox that we call life. So, for better or for worse...I blog.