I admit that I can be a very stubborn person. When someone tells me to do something or that I should be something, I often question that person or system and do the exact opposite. More often, I’ll do just enough to skate by and add my own twist. Reading is one of those things.
During the last eleven years of my life, I read what I was told to read. For homework. For a research project. For a lesson plan. I never got to read for me. Truthfully, I never prioritized pleasure reading in my schedule because I was so burned out from reading what I had to, especially during my two years of undergraduate. Two of the most important people in my life–Katie, who is a writer, and my mom, who is a librarian–are voracious readers, as are more of the people I’m beginning to admire.
As I mentioned in a recent blog post, on our European vacation, I read. A lot. Four books that I chose and that I read at my own pace. And since our vacation, I’ve continued to read–I’ve finished two books and am working on another one. So to accompany this rediscovered pleasure, I want to install Fictional (or Non-Fictional) Friday on my blog, where I talk about the book that I’m currently working on. I must admit, I’m a meticulously slow reader, so I may talk about books for two or three weeks at a time.
Last year, for my 24th birthday, Katie bought me a coffee table book called U2 by U2. It’s an extended interview (over 300 pages in my edition, nearly 500 pages in a paperback version that’s being released in December) with the four members of U2 and their manager, Paul McGuiness. I briefly thumbed through it when I first got it, but now, after the excitement of seeing U2 live, I’m getting to know the band, their thoughts on music, and their story. Here’s the opening clip from Bono:
Sometimes it comes across as if I got into U2 to save the world. I got into U2 to save myself. I meet people out on the street who approach me like I’m Mahatma Gandhi. And when someone says, “Hail, man of peace,” I can hear Larry (the drummer) mutter under his breath: “You’re so lucky he didn’t nut you.” The band are very bemused by my attraction to non-violence, because they know you couldn’t get further from the songs than the singer. They understand the reason I have been so attracted to these characters, the subjects of the songs — because in my life and temperament I am so far from them.
To sing those songs, to hit those high notes, takes an incredible concentration and commitment. You have to step inside and live the song. So you’re right in the middle of Derry performing “Sunday Bloody Sunday”, or you are in Memphis at a civil-rights rally with Dr. King, singing “Pride in the Name of Love”. I’m right up there. Your mate is ruining his life with a bag of smack. It’s “Bad”. You’re in those emotions. And I think the band have been very good about realizing that I get to that spot. At times it must have been very idfficult for them, because the singer would be right out there.
Your nature is a hard thing to change; it takes time. One of the extraordinary transferences that happen in your spiritual life is no that your character flaws go away but they start to work for you. A negative becomes a positive: you’ve a big mouth, you end up a singer. You’re insecure, you end up a performer who needs applause. I have heard of people having life changing, miraculous turn-arounds, people set free from addiction after a single prayer, relationships saved where both parties “let go and let God”. But it was not like that for me. For all that “I was lost, I am found,” it is probably more accurate to say, “I was really lost, I’m a little less so at the moment.” And then a little less and a little less again. That to me is the spiritual life. The slow reworking and rebooting of a computer at regular intervals, reading the small print of the service manual. It has slowly rebuilt me in a better image. It has taken years, though, and it is not over yet.
As I mentioned in the last post, U2 is celebrating its 30th year of recording. U2 by U2 is chaptered into different eras of their career, starting with meeting at Mount Temple School outside of Dublin and concluding after the release of “How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb”. I’ve gotten to about 1981. U2 had just released “Boy”, their first album, and concluded their first American tour.
I love the last idea in Bono’s quote–I was really lost, I’m a little less so at the moment. That idea transcends into the narrative of the band, as well as the narratives of the band members; readers learn about four high schoolers who started a musical group without knowing that much about the technical aspects of music, but understanding that music brought fulfillment and community. Their community was messy–at several points they mentioned that their rehearsals mainly consisted of fighting, and there are several rather hilarious depictions of teenage angst in the introductory chapters. Adam was an unorthodox bass player at first, Larry had difficulty keeping beat, and Bono often produced unpredictable shenanigans while performing in the early years, but they refused to disband because of their friendship; in fact, they became better musicians learning to adapt to these early ineptitudes. Their community was also incredibly poignant, as these young men used their camaraderie to combat trauma and loss; three of the four had lost parents (physically or emotionally) by the age of 21.
I’m listening to the U2 CD’s as they talk about them in the book. I just finished reading about “Boy” and listening to some of the musical nuances they enjoyed producing and examining some of the lyrics of songs, such as “I Will Follow”. I’m really excited about learning how these four become musically, personally, and spiritually molded and shaped into the most influential rock group of our generation.
Okay, so I’ve gotta admit. Last week, I failed on the whole blog thing. And this week, the music that came out failed me–nothing much to talk about. (There is a new Sugarland CD out, but I’m kind of afraid to touch it.)
I know that U2 isn’t exactly a new band, although they celebrated a new release earlier this year. In fact, their U2 360 tour coincides with their 30th year in the music industry, so perhaps it’s a stretch to include them in my new music Thursday section.
I’m not sure if U2 is my favorite band–Dave Matthews gives them a run for their money in my book–but they’re definitely the most influential band. Of our generation. And perhaps the one or two before.
My youth minister, Bruce, introduced me to U2 during my senior year of high school. He got me to listen to Joshua Tree, which I immediately fell in love with (classics such as “Where the Streets Have No Name” and “With or Without You” but also underrated hits like “Running to Stand Still” and “Red Hill Town”). I then added War and the Best of the 1980s to my collection and bought All That You Can’t Leave Behind, which came out my senior year, and How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, which came out junior year of college. U2 came through Dallas in January 2002 (I believe), and Bruce wanted to take several of us to the Elevation tour, but the concert was on a Sunday evening, and being good Church of Christ people, we passed.
Fast forward 8 years. My sweet Katie bought me U2 tickets for my graduation present. (Well, she gave me a slip of paper that said something like “Exchangeable for U2 tickets”–we didn’t know where we would be in September/October, so once we figured that out, we would buy tickets at the nearest stadium. Have I told you recently how amazing my wife is?)
Turns out that stadium was Jerry’s World of Fun–the new Cowboys Stadium. Concert date–October 12.
So Monday, Katie and I spent the afternoon driving to Arlington to see the musical group that has influenced and challenged me more than any other. Of course, our two and a half hour trip was filled with U2 tracks old and new–Katie humored me as I sung or hummed along to just about every song. We got a quick dinner at On the Border, where we beat about 75 others who were also going to see U2, and headed to Jerry’s World of Fun.
We got a quick tour of the new Cowboys Stadium, where we were greeted by about 50 food and beverage vendors; we encountered another 75 or so merchandisers at the Cowboys Pro Shop. Dear goodness, that man has a lot of people working for him. And money.
We also ran into a couple that Katie knew from Midland, which fit perfectly into the “Let’s see how many people we’ll know” game that we play when we go out to eat or to social events. We knew of several Abilenians that were going to the concert, including our friends the Durringtons, and the Becks. Actually, the Becks–Richard, Jana, and their two boys–sat a couple of sections over from us. We waved them down and they took pictures of us from their seats several hundred feet away. I hope that when Katie and I have kids that we can treat them to cultural events such as the Beck boys experienced Monday.
Muse opened the show. I wasn’t too familiar with their work, other than their hit “Starlight”, which is one of my favorites. Matthew Bellamy, the lead singer and guitarist for the band, is an amazing musician; I’m completely mesmerized by people who have fantastic voices and incredible skills as an instrumentalist. It’s quite a rarity in contemporary pop/rock music. Bellamy would sing a chorus in his upper range and then play some ridiculous guitar riff–it was fascinating to watch.
Then, the main event. Larry emerged. Then Adam. Then Edge. Then Bono.
I was almost in tears when the foursome united on stage.
My first impression of live U2 was amazement at the amount of energy Bono has. He ran on the stage and, right before he started singing “Breathe”, jumped backward and kicked his right leg out. I mean, the man’s pushing 50. Most people that age injure themselves pulling off stunts like that–Bono’s in incredible shape. And he’s an incredible performer. For the first couple of songs, such as “Get on Your Boots” and “Magnificent”, he was running all over the inner and outer stage trying to get the crowd fired up. Bono’s such a great storyteller–not just with the lyrics he writes but through his musicality. That definitely showed in the tenderness and gentleness in “Stuck in a Moment” and “No Line on the Horizon”. He also pulled this kid on stage for “City of Blinding Lights”, and they walked around together and essentially acted out the song; Bono’s usage of space to engage with the crowd but also to narrate his songs was unbelievable. Richard said afterward that Bono’s leading of U2 reminded him of a Pentecostal worship leader, sans the speaking in tongues–from his movements to his calling the audience “church” in the middle of his songs.
My favorite moment of the night came during the song “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For”. He sings the first line–”I have climbed highest mountains/I have run through the hills”, and realizes that 80,000 of our closest friends are singing along with him word for word. So he and Edge drop out and the only thing you is Larry playing snare, Adam playing the bass chord, and a chorus of U2 fanatics (myself included) finishing the verse and first chorus in unison. Chills up and down my spine.
Bono finished the evening with a stirring montage of images of Iran to “Sunday Bloody Sunday” and a tribute to the exiled Burmese leader Aung San Suu Kyi. And two encores, including a combination of “Amazing Grace” and “Where the Streets Have No Name”.
The three and a half hour drive home (well, and the three days following) have been filled processing the greatness of this concert. It was mind-blowing to watch the connection between Edge and Adam, the two guitarists. They moved almost in symmetry with each other, playing back to back at several points and on opposite ends of the stage at others. In fact, musically speaking, watching and listening to Edge may have been the second-most enjoyable part of the concert. He (and the other band members) matched Bono’s intensity and excitement a bit into the show and utilized the inner and outer stages to engage with the crowds. However, during the two or three extended solos he had, he would freeze, but his hands would go crazy up and down the guitar. Then when he finished, he’d find the base rhythm and start jumping up and down again. Edge even sang a solo during one of the songs, and Katie leaned over and said, “He sings?!” I thought the same thing myself–he has a gentle, beautiful voice.
I’m so grateful to my Katie for making this dream of mine come true. For enabling my U2 habit by taking me to this show and buying a huge U2 coffee table book for me through my birthday. Which I started rummaging through Tuesday morning and will talk about soon on this blog. For letting me act like a 6-year old on Christmas morning during the concert when something cool would happen. For singing along with me and 80,000 of our closest friends to the songs she knew. Thank you love.
Last year, my friend Shena introduced me to imeem, a music sharing website that entertained me while I wrote numerous casenotes in the Marriage and Family Therapy. Imeem is like other free music websites, such as Grooveshark and Pandora, but a bit more complex. For one thing, it has a social media outlet that members can update blogs and personal profiles to; I’ve yet to come across a music sharing website (other than myspace, which has only recently morphed into a music sharing site) with this feature. My favorite part of imeem is “New Music Tuesday”, where new albums are released for members to listen to before buying. I’ve found that imeem specializes in indie rock and hip-hop, although they’ve received the rights to big-name bands that have released albums in the last year; I’ve listened to new releases by U2, Gavin DeGraw, and Dave Matthews on imeem. I’ve also been introduced to a lot of neat indie artists, such as David Gray (he’s indie-ish), Joshua James, and Stars of Track and Field–that’s just in the last two weeks.
This week, I waited with anticipation for the new Paramore album, Brand New Eyes. Yes, I know that Hayley Williams (the lead singer) is a spunky, orange-haired 20-year-old whose first two albums have been filled with hyper melodies and emo-driven lyrics about high school experiences. 25-year-old former music majors are supposed to have more sophisticated tastes than high school punk bands who have written the same style song (verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, chorus) 20 different ways. Blah blah blah.
In my opinion, Riot! was the best rock album to come out in 2007. I’ve listened to it at least two dozen times, and at one point or another, every song on the album has been in my head. There’s an amazing variety on the CD, from the groovy, musically tight instrumental introlude to For a Pessimist… to Hayley’s incredible vocals in Hallelujah to the band’s simple, yet profound thoughts on spirituality in We are Broken. And that’s not including the tracks that radio producers thoughts were incredible enough to play on radio stations. (There are three on the album.) On a scale of 1-10, I would give Riot! an 11.
So perhaps my expectations of Brand New Eyes were a bit unrealistic. The music isn’t as musically catchy, although that’s not an entirely bad thing. In fact, the band diversifies and experiments with new sounds. They still have the familiar “Paramore sound” in the first two tracks and Where the Lines Overlap, but they experiment with different sounds in the electric guitars (Brick by Boring Brick) and rhythm guitars (The Only Exception) and a song backed by acoustic guitar and jazzier vocals (Misguided Ghosts), which Hayley Williams presents appropriately. (Hooray vocal diversity! The sign of a maturing singer.) Paramore’s drummer, Zac Farro, has some incredible rhythms throughout the CD–more complex than their first two albums.
There’s been a lot said about whether or not Paramore is a Christian band. Regardless, there are some really interesting comments about the church and faith on the CD that I think will resonate with the experiences of other 20-something Christians. Other lyrical themes include finding the band’s identity in the midst of conflict within band members.
So there you have it. I have a feeling that this album will grow on me the more I listen to it. Amazon’s got it on sale for $4. And every Thursday, I’ll feature a brand new CD (generally one that imeem introduces me to). Blessings!
Katie and I were walking around in Jericho (a region in north Oxford–unfortunately, we did not make our way to the Holy Land) one morning, and these two younger looking students, a guy and a girl, walked by us. I have a bad habit of seeing random people and thinking that they are either people that I know or famous people; I have a similar bad habit of noticing really weird things about people, so I’ve learned to keep these thoughts to myself. I looked at this girl, and I thought, “Oh, hey, it’s Susan from Narnia,” and kept walking. As soon as these people passed, Katie turned around and gave me this unbelievable “Did you see who I just saw?” look. By the time we realized we just passed acting royalty, they had already turned the corner and were out of our sight.
So no, we did not meet Susan from Narnia. Even if we had, would either of us have been able to form an intelligible sentence, other than, “Hi Susan, um, er, we liked your new film. How are Peter and Edmund and Lucy?” Can’t see that going over too well.
In part 3 of this series, I talked about a new, enriching type of travel that I have rarely experienced–basing travel destinations around relationships rather than landmarks and hotspots. There’s so much of the world that I haven’t seen and want to stake a visual and experiential claim to, which is one of the reasons that I wanted to go to Spain. Katie prefers visiting places that are familiar and have poignant memories and stories attached to them; Oxford is valuable to her because of the intertwining of archaic, holy history and contemporary culture and self-sought relationships. And in my third visit across the pond, there are people that I look forward to visiting as well, such as Simon and Jacque and Mike and Katie’s ‘07-’08 roommates.
Oxford (and other relationship-based travel destinations ) are like my favorite CDs. I have about a dozen CDs (of my 14.5 GB in my musical collection) that I’ve listened to more than 20 times. There are favorite songs that I have, and I’ve listened enough that I beat along with the drum cadences and whistle to the guitar riffs. But each time I listen to these CDs, I notice something different; I make a new connection and relationship with the music. During my third Oxfordian trip, I made several new relationships that I’ll look forward to enhancing my fourth visit.
I’ve mentioned Jacob and Lara before in previous posts, but I’m incredibly grateful for the willingness of this couple to host a girl that barely knew and a guy they had never met before for four days. They are Americans–actually, Jacob spent part of his childhood in Garland, my hometown; our first conversation consisted of sharing Garland stories. We had an interesting encounter with an inebriated Scottish guy, but after dodging him, they treated us to a cup of tea and continued to bless us with a balance of hospitality and privacy for the rest of our stay. They made us feel like their esteemed guests, finding and entertaining us at a dance party (more on that next post as well) and inviting us to a birthday dinner for one of their friends.
Katie continued to show me new parts of her Oxford experiences, from cultural statements to the lives of her friends. One afternoon, we had coffee with her friend Sally, who shared with us some of the difficulties and joys she’s experienced over the last year. Another afternoon, we joined Owen and Laura, a very musical, ministry-0riented, 20-something couple, for a Middle-Eastern lunch at their apartment; Pete and Michelle, another young couple (Pete, Michelle, and Owen are all employed by the church), came as well, so we spent the afternoon laughing and swapping stories concerning solely Oxford and stories that can happen anywhere, such as camp pranks.
I haven’t spoken much about our Spanish adventure yet. I’ll elaborate more on this in a future post, but after spending a week in a familiar culture with similar customs and language, five days in a new country with a new language and rhythm to life was quite disconcerting. The language barrier was especially difficult; I can speak Spanish pretty well, but when the locals began speaking back in (rapid) Spanish, I was lost and didn’t have the humility to say “Mas despacio por favor”. We were thrilled to meet Trent, an Aussie who’s around our age, in our hostel in San Sebastian. Aussies, I’m told, have a fascination with worldwide travel and seem to encourage their young people to explore the world before settling down in a career path. Trent was our roommate (in hostels, you sleep in bunk beds), and our first night, I discovered him reading a book about new age psychology. We chatted about all kinds of psychological topics for the next hour and a half or so, and the next evening, he joined us for dinner and a walk through San Sebastian’s evening. On one level, it was refreshing to have somebody speak our language and be as clueless about the native customs as we were. But on another level, Katie and I made a fascinating new friend in an unlikely location.
This will not be our last European trip; Katie and I have decided to make domestic and international travel a priority in our marriage. In one way, it adds to the amount of adventures and the diversity of stories we get to share with each other. In another sense, we want to partly define our marriage and family through global sensitivity and networking. We laugh at our friend Loren and our mentor couple the Danleys, because it seems like every person that we watch them meet, they know similar people or people from that region or town. We want to be like that. We don’t want our social bubble to end at exit 288 on I-20, but we hope that the boundaries to which we get to know the world–God’s Kingdom–are limitless. One new relationship at a time.
I had wanted to make this post one of the last ones in the series, but today’s a very special day for the love of my life, so I wanted to dedicate this post to her.
(That last phrase makes me feel like I just placed a call to a late night radio station. “Delilah, I’d like to dedicate Everything I Do I Do It For You by Michael Bolton to my beautiful wife Katie.”)
Anyway, during our European adventure, I learned a lot about my beautiful birthday bride. I learned that Katie is an incredible travel agent; she got together all of our flight and hostel reservations and kept a magical folder of all of our paperwork to show to various hotel management and customs officers. She may be small, but she’s very feisty 
and she knows the ins and outs of European travel–excellent travel partner for those practical reasons alone. Katie is also an amazing navigator, which is especially wonderful because I’m directionally challenged unless I’m driving on an interstate. She knows Oxford like the back of her hand, and we had an experience where we were dropped off in an unfamiliar location (downtown Pamplona) at 10:30 at night and had 30 minutes to get to our hostel before we were locked out–Katie led us there with two minutes to spare using a cheap, non-descriptive map in a travel book I found.
I knew very well that Katie is a picture fiend, but I learned that she loves to take pictures of scenery and architecture; whenever we walked in Oxford, Katie would pause to take out her camera and take pictures of ancient cathedrals or Victorian style houses and doors. Afterwards, she would smile and take a glorious sigh, as if she had just sniffed the most illustrious scent.
I was reminded that although Katie is an adventurer, she gets most excited about the familiar, such as local restaurants (i.e On the Hoof and Ben’s Cookies) and parks. She took me down a walking trail that she took as a shortcut from Oxford Brookes in south-ish Oxford to the ACU houses on Canterbury Road two years ago, and picked wild blackberries along the way. I’m in love with the fact that the relationships she’s made in Oxford call her across the ocean as much as anything, and got to reunite with some of these friends (part 3) and meet some new friends (part 5).
I was also reminded of Katie’s spirit of giving during this trip. One day, we were in Oxford’s covered market and we passed by a flower store; Katie picked up a dozen flowers for Jacque as a simple thanks for hospitality. She’s also spent the last two months working on a tea cozy with the Welsh flag for Jo, her former roommate who’s wedding we went to in Cardiff; that item and the assurance that she could watch Jo open it carried as much importance in our packing plans as just about anything.
So thank you, my dear, for being my adventuring partner, dinner conversant, and date in Europe. Thank you for inviting me into your laughs, stories, the lives of your friends, and your heart during our two week excursion.
Happy 26th birthday!
The Bodleian Library. 50 some-odd colleges, most over 300 year old buildings. Blackwell’s Music (my personal favorite Oxford locale). Ben’s Cookies (their white chocolate chip cookie is my first Oxford food).
Oxford’s tourism industry draws thousands of visitors (and their cameras) to its hallowed streets each year; I’m told that it’s particularly chaotic during the middle of the summer. And there’s value to exploring this unique mixture of ancient and modern. During this trip, Katie and I visited the Sheldonian Theatre–I pictured myself not only listening to contemporary lectures, but I also placed myself 200 years ago in the middle of a dramatic work as I walked across the massive stage–and a museum of 300-year old musical instruments.
But I learned these sights and activities are not what draws Katie back to this place; instead, the intimate relationships that she’s formed over her year and a half in Oxford continuously call her back across the pond. When we go to Oxford, Katie invites me into these relationships, and I create my own connections with these amazing people.
I’ve already mentioned Jacque and Mike, but I cannot place enough emphasis on the impact they had on our trip. They took care of us while we were in town, welcoming us to Oxford and making sure that we had breakfast every morning. They arranged sleeping locations for me and Katie, offering their small flat at first and later inviting us to stay in a spacious basement flat, then introducing us to Jacob and Lara and encouraging them to let us stay at their place. They shared several meals with us and were partners in our exploration of different parts of Oxford. They joined us in some hilarious memories, such as our Fawlty Towers marathon and our sprint through downtown Oxford in the pouring rain to the comfort of a cozy cafe with warm tomato soup. They also had some deep conversations with us, such as the one I referred to in the previous blog post, and invited us to worship with them at St. Aldates.
We also got to visit with Ron and Janine, the on-site directors of ACU’s Oxford Study Abroad. Although they were busy preparing for a new group of students to arrive, they took time away from the chaos to invite us to dinner with Jacque and Mike one night. Ron and Janine are fascinating, adventurous, and nurturing; we spent the night talking about plans for the upcoming semester and discussing random musical groups. Ron and I also went pubbing on a Saturday afternoon, hoping to catch a football game; the pubs weren’t allowed to show the games, so we talked religion, family, and sports for over an hour.
Katie got the chance to reunite with her roommates from last year–Lizzie, Jo, and Grace–at Jo’s wedding in Cardiff. (Jo is not in this picture, but she will be in a future post.) Lizzie was kind enough to drive us from Oxford to Cardiff; ironically, we arrived to the church building right behind the bridal car, but unfortunately, we had to park three or four blocks from the church and in spite of our best sprinting efforts, were a bit late to the wedding. She and Katie shared lots of laughs and stories in the car (and the next day at lunch), and Lizzie told me about her counseling endeavor, working with pregnant women. Lizzie is absolutely hilarious, sharing cute, humorous stories about her godchildren and shaking her fist at the concept of paying a toll to get into Wales. I’ll share more about the wedding event and Grace and Jo in a future post, but it was such a blessing to be around Lizzie’s vibrant spirit.
One of the things that I look forward to about visiting Oxford is our visit with Simon. Simon is the minister of theology (at least I think that’s his title) at St. Aldates; he’s a former butcher, and has enough personality for three or four people. He’s also an amazing speaker and preacher, and has a unique way of combining gentleness, passion, and humor to create a pragmatic, easy-to-follow theology. Simon worked with university students during Katie’s Study Abroad semester in Spring 04, and whenever Katie returned, she spoke several times about his legacy. Simon and his precious wife Tiffany invited us to his house during my first visit in 07, and we got to know each other by talking about the greatness of Karl Barth, among other things. During my second visit in 08, we shared a Sunday lunch and talked about theology, rugby, and therapy. So of course, I was stoked to see he and Tiffany, and our paths crossed at church and Vince’s wedding (more on that in a future blog) before getting to spend morning tea with them the day we left for Spain. We shared our future plans (with can be characterized by a big “question mark”), and Simon told some funny stories from their family vacation and from Vince’s wedding, at which he preached.
I learned that there are different kinds of vacations. There are vacations where you explore new locations and sightsee, swim at the beach, or go on nature hikes. Our week in Spain fell under this category, and I hope to share more about the excitement and frustration of our Spanish excursion in future posts. But the week of refreshment involved people and relationships. Quality vacation did not take the form of touring Christ Church or walking around one of Oxford’s many parks, although these activities were enjoyable and mostly peaceful. Quality vacation was found in the homes of loved ones with familiar stories and laughs and gracious hearts.
Katie and I spent most of the first half of our European adventure with Jacque and Mike. Jacque was a bridesmaid in our wedding, and is currently employed by ACU’s Study Abroad Oxford office, where she teaches humanities classes in Oxford. She recently married Mike, a computer technician from Zimbabwe. Mike is beginning a theological studies program at one of Oxford’s colleges in a few weeks; he explained that although he really wanted to study missions, the program is more geared towards apologetics. (Somehow, amongst the 400+ pictures that Katie took, none of them involve Mike.) Mike’s yearning to engage with the text was astounding and refreshing, and he began to explain apologetics; he admitted that he was anxious about the argumentative aspect of the term, but realized that in order to fully engage with Christianity, it’s imperative for him to gain a foundational understanding so he can defend it.
As Mike spoke, I was reminded of my past frustrations with the church, largely consisting of experiences in which the Text was abused and proof-texted to complete certain agendas. (I think the voice of this frustration needs a separate blog post. Briefly, my introduction to the Bible was a book of facts to be memorized, and the last several years of my faith journey have been rebelling against the idea as I try to discover a new definition of Biblical faith.) I tried my best to keep these thoughts locked inside my head, but I’m afraid a few slipped out of my mouth. Anyway, Mike said that he was envious of people like me who grew up in the “church culture”; I responded that I was envious of people like him who get to discover Christianity on their own terms.
This theme continued as we moved to our next location: Jacob and Lara’s flat, where we stayed the final three nights in Oxford. Lara is a clinical psychologist, so we had a common language to provoke some fascinating conversations. Jacob is a PhD candidate in theology; his dissertation combines Christian philosophy with Hindi and Islam thought, and has overtones of Christian apologetics. Jacob was a physics major in his undergraduate at UT and explained that he became a Christian as he realized that modern science proves the existence of God; for one thing, the Christian narrative has been proven through archaeological studies, but philosophers such as Alistair McGrath has expounded on the connection between science and theology.
At first, I had trouble connecting with this conversation, partly because I’m jaded by denominational sects who use the Bible to “prove” asinine theological nuances, and partly because I’m surrounded by a circle of “winter Christians” at Highland–men and women who embrace doubt, utilizing it to transform a deeper faith. After all, isn’t the scientific proof of Christianity at some level pointless? That’s where faith, belief in something that cannot be proven, steps in, right?
Then I realized how appropriate this study is in post-Christian Oxford.
Nobody challenges my faith in Abilene or in the American South; for example, the American evangelical, though at times ridiculous, still has a quantifiable following, and even the non-Christians/not-interested-in-becoming-Christians I meet have been indifferent to my faith rather than radically opposed to it. Phillip Pullman and other outspoken Christian critics live in the Oxfords of the world, not the Abilenes.
Oxford has this unique tension; for over a thousand years, it has been an international center of knowledge and the expansion of humanities, science, and research. However, Oxford also has a rich religious tradition; St. Aldates, the church that Katie worshiped at in her year and a half in England, has been around for 900 years, and many of the colleges have their own chapels/cathedrals and current connections with the liturgies and politics of the Anglican Church. Although religion and scientific education coexist better in Oxford than other places in Europe, the history of tension between the two is still significant, and I would dare say has never been so volatile. Non-Christians in Oxford attempt to use knowledge as their weapons against “naive” Christians, so the apologetic movement has gained popularity in the attempt for Christianity to survive in Oxford.
Amazingly, St. Aldates has managed to create an atmosphere of warm, engaging worship and combine charismatic and apologetic language in the midst of this religious and philosophical culture, inviting hundreds of believers into its hallowed grounds each Sunday morning and evening. How this occurs is another blog post, probably written by another person.
Nevertheless, the second thing that I learned in Europe is a new appreciation for the proof of faith and religion, not so that I can beat a Biblical passage or idea down someone’s throat, but because Christianity survives in Oxford (and other similar post-Christian locations) with apologetics.
About six months ago, my beautiful wife, Katie received an invitation to the wedding of her former housemate, Jo. Jo lives in the United Kingdom and roomed with Katie during her European-filled adventure in 2007-08; supposedly, Katie got a Masters degree in the midst of all of this Anyway, the wedding was at the end of August, and the timing couldn’t have been any more perfect for us to go; my Master’s degree program would be completed by then. A few months later, Katie received an invitation to the wedding of her friend Vince, to be held two days after Jo’s wedding at St. Aldates, the church that Katie attended during both of her Oxfordian excursions.
So, long story short, we booked plane tickets from DFW to London Heathrow so we could be in Oxford and celebrate with these friends. Of course, Jo’s wedding was in Cardiff, where her family resides. While we were in England, I asked Katie if we could skip over to continental Europe and visit Spain, especially the Basque region, where I have a bit of ancestry. So before we knew it, we had concocted a two week European journey, visiting cities such as London, Oxford, Cardiff, Pamplona, and San Sebastian. Money was a bit tight, but we justified the trip by calling it our post-graduation/we have two masters degrees between us/we need out of Abilene/Happy First Anniversary trip.
The following ten posts are stories and reflections from our two week trip.
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Katie says that I don’t rest well. She shot down my idea of bringing my laptop to Europe, saying that vacations should not consist of work (my excuse for bringing it) and my obsession with ESPN. She’s brought my fidgety habit of always having to have something in my hands to doodle with to my attention on more than one occasion.
And she’s right. I don’t rest well. I enjoyed the helter-skelter pace of the graduate program I just completed; it kept me busy and gave me a sense of productivity and value. Katie constantly reminded me that “You’re not going to know what to do with yourself after you graduate”. Her voice of prophecy proved true in the weeks between graduation and our Europe trip; I tried to do as many things as I could, from reading all of the links in my daily New York Times email to keeping in touch with my fantasy teams to going to the gym to reorganizing our praise team ministry at Highland. And there was still a lot of extra time left. That freaked me out.
We left for Europe two Saturdays ago, and due to packing constraints, my form of entertainment on the eight and a half hour flight were my iPod, sans battery charger, and Elizabeth Gilbert’s “Eat, Pray, Love”. I chose the book, and was invited into a journey that I longed for; a woman escaping from her painful, difficult love by traveling around the world for a year and attempting to find herself. (I don’t think I have the courage to do something like that for myself, but it was nice to vicariously experience her liberation.) On the plane, I read about the value of pleasure through eating in Italy, and when we traveled to and arrived in Oxford, I absorbed her thoughts on meditation and healing in India and Indonesia.
Monday, our third day in Oxford, we went to Blackwell’s, one of Oxford’s classic bookstores, and I bought three more books; through the rest of our journey, I read through Aravind Aviga’s “The White Tiger” and Thomas Kenneally’s “Searching for Schindler”. (I’ll write blog posts about these two books in the near future.)
(The picture, by the way, is in a charity shop in Oxford. I’m reading a book about Spain with our friend Jacque, who will be making an appearance in future posts.)
There are some things that are quintessentially American about me: I value productivity, efficiency, and quantity of things achieved. Slowing down for two weeks and engaging with three different authors and stories challenged my mind and my tendencies. Historically, I have read strictly for academic purposes: so I can learn about a therapy model or theory, and in some capacity, because I have to. But I was reading for fun–I can’t tell you the last time that happened. I was reading with eagerness, yet gave myself time to critically think about the stories and themes in the literature.
Slowing down: That was the theme of our trip (at least until the end, where we were moving on a daily basis from bed to bed). In Europe, the advancement of the mass transportation system is light years ahead. (It better be when you pay close to $2 a liter for gas.) Generally, people either utilize rapid transit or walk. When you’re used to driving around everywhere traveling at several dozen miles per hour, walking can be annoying and tiring at once. But walking also maintains a sense of presence; no matter how briskly you’re walking, your senses engage with your surroundings: the sights of the verdant parks or archaic, story-filled buildings; the sounds of bells gonging signifying a new hour. Admittedly, I was a little cranky during the first few days of this type of lifestyle, especially during our shopping day, in which I was asked to really slow down. But at the end of our first full week in Europe, I felt a lot more relaxed about life in general; I wasn’t worried about the impending vacuum that the whereabouts of our future, or with the stressors of school or work.
The first, and perhaps most profound thing that I learned in Europe is that vacation and rest go hand in hand. Resting doesn’t necessarily mean a complete ceasing of physical activity, although the Spanish seem to be perfectors of this idea through the concept of siesta. Rest in vacation involves giving up control and the anxiety that comes with to-do lists, deadlines, and having to be everywhere and everything. Rest accepts and works in the middle of the unexpected challenges life throws at us, as Katie and I did (as seen in this picture) when we sprinted through the middle of Oxford to escape an English afternoon deluge.
The difficulty with this topic of vacation and rest is that vacations are periods of time designed to achieve rest. In fact, Westerners attempt to use vacations as a time to binge and catch up on rest. My prayer is that we will become better vacationers regardless of location; that we can take time to escape from the toils of efficiency and productivity, giving up control so that we maintain presence with our surroundings and Maker and become rejuvenated. What are some daily vacations that you take?
