In Scotland at Last
The journey from America to Scotland has been a difficult, but rewarding one. On Saturday, I become a fully matriculated Ph.D student at St. Mary’s College at the University of St. Andrews. On one hand, we live in a one bedroom flat (bathroom/kitchen/closet/study/bedroom, etc), about a twenty minute walk from the center of town. On the other hand, we know that God has led us here for a reason, and Rebecca and I believe the next three years are going to be the best in our lives.
After leaving New Orleans for New York, we arrived in Edinburgh for a two day visit. Of particular interest to me there was the John Knox House, where John Knox lived and died.
John Knox was a Scottish Reformer and masterful preacher who aided the acceptance of the Protestant movement in Scotland. Without going into too much detail, he earned a degree at St. Andrews, spent a year in exile at the castle of St. Andrews, was taken prisoner for a year and lived on board a French vessel (that’s where when asked to bow and kiss a wooden statue of the virgin Mary he threw her overboard and yelled, “If she’s really the mother of God, let her swim!”), moved to Geneva where he interacted with John Calvin and preached at an English speaking church there, and is said to have lived and died in Edinburgh (at the John Knox House).
St. Andrews is a medieval town on the eastern coast of Scotland. Norway isn’t too far away (and it is bitter cold all the time). Yet, Rebecca and I were strolling along the beach side (or cliff-North Sea side, to be more particular) two days ago, and were struck by the great theological tradition that seeps down the cobblestone streets.
It is so ancient here.
To think that Knox himself lived and breathed in this town! It is so humbling to see the castle on the shore where Knox was taken prisoner. And I ask myself at what great cost is my own Christianity? The only persecution I’ve thus faced has been some rather indecent remarks from some college party folks concerning the sign that I placed on the outside of my door (”As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord”).
St. Mary’s college sits just off South Street (one of four main streets in St. Andrews), and opens into a medieval courtyard surrounded with ornately stone-worked buildings, grass greener than I’ve ever seen in America, and a tree that Mary Queen of Scots planted. By the way, there are bunnies everywhere (I told Rebecca that even if things get grim, we can at least eat well–that is, with some archery practice).
St. Mary’s quad is filled with bustling new theology students (mostly Masters level) no doubt turning their affections away from the rigors of moving in (and the many hassles thereof) and onto the deep things of God.
On another note, at my orientation speech from the dean I learned that the past three days have been the first sunny days all summer. He quickly assured us it would indeed come to an end and in 6 weeks time twilight will begin to set in at around 2:00 pm (reaching for the Vitamin D).
Thank you all for your constant support and encouragements. I have come to believe that God has brought us to Scotland for a purpose, and we are purposely his.