Getting Old

Last Tuesday night I had a marvelous opportunity to share in a unique birthday celebration. As one might imagine, things here are much older than they are in the states, and with that age comes a more lucid view into the legacies that are left in the wake of our prior generations.

St. Paul’s Church in Oslow Square turned 150 years old last week, and as a part of the Sesquicentennial celebration Holy Trinity Brompton (the church I’ve been attending) threw a celebration to commemorate the legacy of a house of worship that has out-survived a vast span of global military conflicts, has seen the rise and fall of empires, and has seen technological advancement and evolution of modern society that probably dwarfs any other 150 year stretch of history.

From an American history context, St. Paul’s was founded the year BEFORE the civil war started. South Carolina was the first state to secede from the union in 1960.
In the context of all that had happened over the course of the past 150 years, it is no doubt cause for celebration to bear witness to a house of worship standing firm through all the chaos that humanity has made. How comforting to know that despite the vastness of the depravity of man, the steadfastness of God’s provision proves out over time.

As usual, on Tuesday evening I had managed to both be running behind and get lost on the way to the church. I have learned that my timing and timeliness is perpetually thwarted by my overconfidence in my ability to get around London. Even routes that are proving to be quite traditional in my life here are confounded with near perfection. Perhaps there’s wisdom to be gathered from that.

Despite my frustration, I have found a sense of determination here to not let the obstacles of life distract my desire to experience things, especially those that are rich with meaning or are at least new off the beaten path tidbits for both proving lend themselves to interesting days and nights here. Tuesday in particular felt like more of a fight, but I convinced myself that it is impossible rationalize sitting at home to quietly read alone versus going to a celebration, let alone one of the type that I might never see or experience again.

After my round about journey I arrived only a few minutes late, which probably proved to my benefit in a lot of ways. You must realize that St. Paul’s is a small, traditional English church building. It is probably just as you imagine it. On the inside, a small foyer leads to the sanctuary and contains stairwells on both sides leading to the gallery seating above. The sanctuary has been stripped of its pews but the old wood beams and rafters are in their strong, dark original form. And of course behind the alter at the front of the room a large stain glass window. It is a far cry from the new mega-churches that are prevalent in the states, and I must say that the down-sizing has proven quite refreshing. So given the more “traditional” church size, it would turn out that seats, and even standing room were in short supply; the place was full to the brim.

It is amazing to see a body of people visibly hungry to get in on the action…I guess it makes on consider what their appetite is really geared towards.

As I was pointed to the upper gallery seating, it was readily apparent that the old bones of St. Paul’s were full of life. I can’t recall even in the past years if I’ve been to a music event or performance that was quite so full with people reeling just to be able to see and get a taste of the action. This goes without to mention, I’ve never been to a worship service with such fanfare…
The celebratory atmosphere was palpable, and sadly but appropriately different from traditional Sunday worship. Although the mandate to celebrate the living work of God is and was no different, it felt so much easier to do so when snapped out of a weekly routine, I mean, we were celebrating 150 years of worship. After the music concluded and the program had begun, an abbreviated version of the churches history was presented to the congregation with dabs of musical performances and other media pieces to supplement the archived vintage footage of old London.

Despite all the enchantment of the history of the church and the announcement of the attendance of a number of impressive vicars who have served well into their 80’s ensure the church’s survival. My attention span began to duck in and out as I considered the context of this great legacy and what it could mean in my life. To think that a group of people bound together by a common mission 150 years ago created a legacy of love and life change. I’m sure that there were mistakes and blunders along the way, but above all the mission prevailed. You may think and believe what you want about God and church, but it is important to consider the implications of our legacies in this world are given increasing significance with time.

A small change in the course of humanity today, can over the long run create radical change.
Its hard in those moments not to consider where I’m investing, what I’ll leave behind when I go. It’s impossible not to consider if I’m making choices, even the small ones, that could make this world radically different.

It now, for me, is easy to see the significance of investing in both institutions that create the right legacies as well as making decisions, loving people, and living in a way that in the same breath thoughtfully provokes change and is open to change in the hopes that down the line those little course corrections can result in markedly better reality.

As I wandered back home in the crisp evening night, somehow lost again, I couldn’t have been more pleased that I didn’t let my physical disorientation interfere with my spiritual orientation…no matter where it is or where you are, it's the here and now that starts the change.

Yes, I did have to look up sesquicentennial.
CP