Subway Prophet

…and the words of the prophets were written on the subway walls…


1 Comment

On Wearing Sandals in the Winter

A few weeks ago, I was working on a paper late in the library and so I went to my room to get into some more comfortable clothes. It was a bitter cold night with snow on the ground, but the library (as always) is practically a sauna. So, I put on my Duke sweatpants, hoodie, and sandals and headed downstairs. As I walked by the snow I thought to myself: “This is me.” It was a strange thought, but also a realization. For most of my time thus far, my sandals had been merely a novelty item I brought with me as a joke when I was packing. “When am I ever going to use these!” I said as I tossed them in my suitcase. However, that night, wearing the essential Florida footwear, there was a connection to a part of me which somewhere had become “de-colonized” (I just made that word up. It needs to be a thing!).

Over the past few months I have noticed several shifts and movements in who I am. When I first got here I was so fascinated with British culture. How they ate, how they spoke, the clothes they wore. Everything about them was endlessly fascinating. In the name of cultural investigation I started using my fork tines down and using the British “pile method” where you stab a piece of meat or potato and then pile everything else up the fork: peas, carrots, gravy, etc. It is quite fun and also really efficient. As I chanted the psalms and prayers I began to subconsciously do so with a slight English accent. This one amused the other American who is with me as well as many of my English friends.

Then in January, Jessica came to visit and these slight changes became all the more apparent. It was a little surprising when I realized that what had begun as a curiosity quickly had become a habit. For the next few months I responded to this by consciously reasserting my “American-ness” I returned to eating with the American “scoop” method and made sure to use the word “ya’ll” as much as possible. There was something desperate in my attempt to retain my cultural and national identity.

Eventually, however, this proved to be a lot of work and also began to seem affected. My experience thus far has changed me in more significant ways than I have even begun to understand. Having experienced British culture, as I mentioned in a previous post, I have already developed a more global perspective, however, I have also become more “American.” I do not mean that I am going to buy some patriotic clothes and walk around singing “My Country Tis of Thee,” but I am also not ashamed of where I come from. The USA is not a perfect country, and I don’t believe that it is the best one in the world, but it has helped to make me who I am and it is my “home.”

So, for now, I am just enjoying the tension. Now I use my fork in whichever way seems most appropriate for the meal and still slip into accented liturgy, but my sandals are out and ready for action! That is once the snow stops falling…

Durham Cathedral in the snow.

Durham Cathedral in the snow.

Snow from Feb 23. Not exactly sandal weather...

Snow from Feb 23. Not exactly sandal weather…

Advertisements


3 Comments

In Memory of Susan Keefe.

This is not the first blog post that I had expected to write after an unexpected five month hiatus, but as I sat in Goodson Chapel yesterday listening to people tell their own stories, I felt that I needed to write my own. I did not know Susan Keefe. I had seen her in the hallways with her measured pace and the frail features of the ascetic she was. However, like many of my fellow students, I was in awe of this mysterious professor. She was respected and loved my the whole school, not because she was a brilliant lecturer (which I am sure she was), or for her gregarious personality (which she certainly was not), but because she exuded such an unworldly holiness that one knew the Divinity School was all the more so because of her place in it.

Like many, I participated in rumors of her ascetic practices, but looking back I see even those as being marks of the sense of awe in which she was seen. When selecting classes for this semester, hers was the one I was most excited about, even though because of my year in England, I knew that I was not going to take it. Just having her class on my fake schedule was an honor. And so, when we received the news that she had died, there was a collective sense of loss.

I wanted to write this post because her service reminded me of what funerals and memorial services in the Church need to be. Absent were trite words of comfort and vague phrases of an afterlife. Instead there was a clear confession of the resurrection and a celebration of the grace filled life she had led. Her specialty was Medieval commentaries by obscure theologians, preparing them for other scholars later to come and analyze to use in their own research. Dean Hays called it a “thankless task,” and I am sure it was not one which sold millions of copies because a simple Google image search fails to bring up any pictures of her.

While I will never be able to take her class, her memorial service will be the only lecture I will be able to have, which seems in a way fitting. It reminded me that a life lived in constant love of Christ and seeking to follow His way is one which does separate us from this world, but still keeps us intimately connected to it through our ministry and our relationships. That is the true mark of an ascetic. Not how much they are separated from the world, but how much they bring the world closer to the Kingdom through their place in it. Dr. Keefe did that.

The final lesson I have from her is one which Dean Hays and her family found propped on her desk when they were cleaning it out. Handwritten on a simple sheet of notebook paper it said:  “What if you were to say to your congregation: Your baptism was the beginning of your preparation for death.”  At our baptism we die to Sin and are reborn to new life through Jesus Christ. It marks us and makes us children of God and when lived out fully prepares us both for our eventual death, but also for the everlasting life which comes afterwards. I do not know the answer to Dr. Keefe’s question, but I intend to find out by sharing those words and with each congregation I have.

Thank you Dr. Keefe, for a life well lived. Amen.


Leave a comment

Announcements: A terrible way to die, or wonderful way to live?

Within a worship service very few people comment that their favorite part were the announcements. In fact, I would wager that most get forgotten. In every church I have worked with, this problem Where do they fit it? How do they function? What is their purpose?

  • Some bring them to the forefront of the service, using the prelude to keep the worship separate.
  • Some bring them into the middle of the service between the hymn and the prayer concerns.
  • Others put them at the very end in the hopes that people will remember them better as they get in their cars.
  • Most churches do a combination. The normal announcements go at the end, while the important ones get mentioned by the pastor in the middle of the service, or if the announcement is lucky, it gets the place of honor before the sermon when everyone is listening.

Behind all of these options is an underlying discomfort with these seemingly secular necessities and the spiritual worship. With people being over-programmed and churches feeling the need to promote their programs in the midst of the busyness, it is no wonder we perform these tasks with a certain reticence.

This semester I am taking a worship history course and our first section is about the worship in the Jerusalem church. So, imgaine my surprise when I read in the diary of Egeria (a 4th century nun who travelled in the Holy Land) this description:

Then for the dismissal, the archdeacon makes this announcement: “At one o’clock today, let us all be ready at the Lazarium.” (29:3)

A forth century announcement?! I put a very mark next to this text. I guess that the need for announcements in worship is as old as the church itself. At the end of the day, announcements are not merely a means to an end, but are in fact instructions and opportunities for Christian life. In the Jerusalem church, these announcements were imperative because throughout the day, week, and year, the location of worship changed rotating around to the various holy sites in the city. Without announcements, the community would not know where to go.

What would it look like if we as a church took announcements seriously? What if we saw them not just as a necessary evil, but as an invitation into the life of the church and an opportunity for a deeper connection with God? What would this look like? Would we pray for the Spirit’s presence in the announcements? Would be take time for people in the congregation to make some of their own?

I certainly do not have all of the answers, but thanks to Egeria I can no longer just dismiss them. What do you think?