Foundations

The city Oxford is named for the easy ford oxen had across to either the river Thames or the river Cherwell, which it is escapes me. Humble origins for such a noteworthy, scholarly location, yea? Such a namesake is something I plan to keep in mind during my time of study here. 

Last semester was insane. I didn't know committing to keep the Sabbath, and to intentionally setting aside time in the week for resting and focusing on God's love could affect me as thoroughly and deeply as it did. The pond that is my life is still quaking with the ripples of these few pebbles. The Lord probed the depths of my heart and revealed to me some unpleasant realities. Selfish ambition; a day-to-day routine more influenced by cultural standards than by the one I claim I serve; a lack of love. It was hard. It hurt. But the struggle of the past four months is something I am grateful for, in the deepest sense. It prepared me, at the very, very least for where I am now: in gorgeous, foggy, cold, achingly romantic Oxford, England.

The trees are naked and stark against a grey sky. The air possesses a chill that is refreshing in the way only cold air can be. I normally hate cold. I love this cold. Maybe it's because I'm walking through it in the company of the oldest buildings I've ever been near; I'm walking through it in the stead of innumerable great minds and spirits. Sometimes as I walk I imagine the city echoing with its stories - more stories than I could possibly hear in my lifetime. Focusing on the vast expanse of things I don't know, and will never have time to learn about is somehow strangely relieving. 

The first sermon I heard in Oxford was on how Paul basis his accomplishments during any given period on his humility and on how well he has served others. The minister concluded by suggesting we build our term on this foundation of humility and love. I believe last semester has prepared me in many ways to garner a deeply rooted desire to live this term in this way. The Lord gave me the grace to understand that my education, although it is very important, it is not, nor will it ever be, the end all be all of this life. That role belongs to praising and worshipping the God who provides me with the very air I breath, the God who, "in him all things hold together" (Colossians 1:17). 

Forsaking my habitual lofty, often unattainable ambitions to rest last semester also provided the time and space for me to reevaluate my understanding of what makes me adequate. Such practices as keeping the Sabbath, and placing greater value (so as to influence my day to day living) on spending quality time with the Lord, have allowed the knowledge that being made in the image of God is of far greater value than accomplishing my very puny list of things to do in a day. I am valued, because I am, and I am in love with my Lord. My friends, my family, every random person I meet during a day is also valuable because of these reasons. Of course God would teach me how to love through loving me! It isn't, nor has it ever been, about my strenuous efforts to be others focused. This mindset just puts me in a bad mood. Because I can't do it.

I wrote this note for the Point this semester. Perhaps it will further enlighten (if anyone actually ends up reading this...):

 In his song How Come, Ray Lamontagne asks a deeply convicting question. He asks us, “How come I can’t tell the free world from living hell?”

I have some ideas.

Early in September, my sister and I spent an afternoon lying under a tree in a park. Anxiety was already building and my list of things to do was plaguing me despite my vain attempts to rest. As I was looking up at the tree, a leaf caught my eye – a single leaf, on a single branch of a single tree. It occurred to me that I have never, cannot and will never be able to make a single leaf grow. Yet, there are hundreds of leaves on a solitary tree. There are millions, perhaps billions, of trees in the world. God sustains them all, everyday. Not only does he sustain trees, he causes the rest of creation to flourish. And he doesn’t stop there: he takes care of each one of us, each of the 6 billion people populating the planet. God is incredibly productive. Being reminded of this made my list of things to do seem utterly meaningless and trivial.

 Before this semester began, God placed on my heart and mind a specific theme for this issue of The Point: change. I didn’t know at the time that the theme of the magazine would also become the theme of my life for the next four months. Taking a deeper look at the changes in politics, in the economy, in our school – physically and spiritually – and in missions has encouraged me to take a deeper look at the changes taking place in my own life.

 Since my revelation in the park, I dropped a class, leaving my class load at a mere 13 units, and opted for a project in lieu of a paper for my Torrey units this semester. I tend to be a work-a-holic, perfectionist, type A sort of girl when it comes to academics. Dropping a class felt like admitting failure. Choosing to do a project seemed too easy – especially when the project was on “rest,” and necessitated that I leave my work for Monday through Saturday, and take it easy on Sunday.

 Keeping the Sabbath holy: why don’t we do it? Our American Christian culture has somehow managed to disgrace the fourth commandment, deeming it null and void, while continuing to hold the nine others in high regard. In her book Keeping the Sabbath Wholly, Marva Dawn writes that ceasing work on the Sabbath is “to cease not only from work itself, but also from the need to accomplish and be productive … from our efforts to be in control of our lives as if we were God.” She goes on to lay out some incredibly compelling reasons why resting on the Sabbath is absolutely necessary to live a life following Christ. Taking time and space, she says, to consider God’s holiness and sovereignty, to dwell on his character, allows for a practical reordering of priorities. Dwelling on his Kingdom for an entire day, and allowing this day to take the central place in our week as the Jews of the Old Testament did (three days to prepare for the Sabbath and three days of reflection on the Sabbath) is an overt declaration of our desire to seek first the kingdom of God.

 Oftentimes throughout my life, I have said that God is my first priority. This semester, in keeping the Sabbath and in intentionally creating space in my week to stop in the midst of the madness for a few hours and spend time worshiping the Lord, I was convicted of my hypocrisy. I realized that my efforts in school, even my deep desire that all these efforts bring glory to God, often were – especially from an outsider’s perspective – simply an American cultural value expressed in “Christian-ese” terminology.

 The salvation we have in Jesus and the consequent indwelling of the Holy Spirit in our lives gives us the freedom to make these choices out of a place of love for God, rather than out of desperation to make things right with him.  This “resting project,” has changed my life wholly and completely. My confident hope is that God will “continue the good work he has started in me” until Christ returns. Then, and only then, will I know the fullness of rest.

 So, why can’t Mr. Lamontagne tell the “free world” from a “living hell”? I think much of the light in the world, many of the Christians in the world, do not have their priorities straight. There’s just not much that is different about them. They’re anxious about success, about “making it” in the world, and they have no time to stop and talk. They have little time to stop and pray. I’m sorry for how I’ve contributed to this mess. From here on out, I will keep the Sabbath holy, in addition to honoring my parents and forsaking my idols. From here on out, I will remember that God, the Creator of every leaf on every tree in the universe, is in control. 

The Lord has been so good to me. I am excited for all he has to teach me during this term at Oxford. The work load is crazy, as should be expected. But I should be a pro at pumping out papers come the end of the semester. I'm excited about that. I'm praying the process will be just as enjoyable. (I don't know how studying Islam and C.S. Lewis couldn't be?)

Love, grace, peace, etc...

Brit.