Zeteo and Heaven

This blog post is dedicated to the memory of Julie...a sure friend, fellow musician, quasi family member and sister in Christ since we were both in diapers.
Over the past five years, Julie spiraled into a mental anguish with an intensity few of us will ever witness in this life. Two Sunday mornings ago, she died at her own hand.
Heaven has been firmly foremost on this mind ever since.

Zeteo is Greek for "set your hearts on" which denotes man's general philosophical search or quest. This is a gleaning from Heaven, my current couch companion - a book by Randy Alcorn. Heaven is a topic that holds increasing fascination for me. The more I read, learn and contemplate -- the more I yearn for it. This is huge for me.
I cringe to admit that not too many years ago, my view of heaven would have sent any potential proselyte running fast in the opposite direction....indeed, the adjective boring or mediocre comes painfully to mind.
What an insult to the One who Is - there - preparing a place for His own!
Earthlings. Pfft! We boast so big from minds so small.
Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. Col3:1,2
The verb zeteo is in the present tense, suggesting an ongoing process. "Keep seeking heaven."
Don't just have a conversation, read a book, or listen to a sermon and feel as if you've fulfilled the command. Since you'll spend the next lifetime living in Heaven, why not spend this lifetime seeking Heaven, so you can eagerly anticipate and prepare for it?
Preparing for Home. How on earth :) can this concept feel so novel to me?
After the highly unusual experiences of this summer, I am convinced more than ever of these three things:
*We are called specifically to search these things out with diligence till we see Him face to face.
*God has set eternity in our hearts (!) - a divinely ordained quest for heaven if I ever heard one.
*A casual careless pursuit of heaven is akin to wasteful living and a serious affront to our Maker.

C.S. Lewis observed, "If you read history, you will find that the Christians who did most for the present world were just those who thought most of the next.
The Apostles themselves, who set on foot the conversion of the Roman Empire, the great men who built up the Middle Ages, the English Evangelicals who abolished the Slave Trade, all left their mark on Earth, precisely because their minds were occupied with Heaven.
It is since Christians have largely ceased to think of the other world that they have become so ineffective in this.
Aim at Heaven and you will get earth 'thrown in': aim at earth and you will get neither. "

We need a generation of heavenly minded people who see human beings and the earth itself not simply as they are, but as God intends them to be. page 21 of Heaven by Randy Alcorn
I heartily recommend this read.

We were once the three amigas and we all loved music. Singing was just one of the things that drew us together and kept us busy. I look forward to employing those gifts with Julie once again.

King's College Anecdote

During our Cam River punt tour, our guide (a young college student from Trinity himself!) obliged us with many tales of fact and fancy (?) but this one anecdote begs to be told....

There was and remains a good bit of good-natured rivalry between all the various colleges and the student bodies thereof as one can well imagine in a medieval university town.

He pointed out the dramatic spires of King's college rising heavenward and claims there was a certain mischievous male who once took life and limb in hand - scaled one of those spires in the dead of night and placed a traffic cone at the top of it.

It took authorities nine days to set up the scaffolding necessary to rescue King's from her defacement -- the night before the rescue was complete, this same student, with spiderman verve, retrieved the cone - scaled the other tower and crowned one of its spires.

The student was never caught, and a 20 year old Cambridge mystery remains unsolved.

Brazen buffoonery at its finest!

The World Famous King's of Cambridge

The world-famous Choir of King's College, Cambridge is one of today's most accomplished and renowned representatives of the great British choral tradition. It was created by King Henry VI, who founded the College in 1441, to provide daily singing in his glorious Chapel, which remains the main task of the choir to this day.
Today the choir is directed by Stephen Cleobury and derives much of its fame from the Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols, broadcast worldwide to millions on Christmas Eve every year, and the TV service Carols from King's which accompanies it.

The Weight of Glory

This post is under construction for an indefinite period...I'm on Canadian soil in Britain time and dealing once again with wonky wireless. :) so here it is without its "fullness". I might have to find a booth at Starbucks to get this done! uhmm....

We flew through the fluffiest clouds on our descent into Toronto yesterday. They were so striking in fact, with sparkling sun-beams radiating through, Catherine and I could only gaze in wordless adoration of the sight.
...He's pitched a tent for the sun in the heavens, which is like a bridegroom, like a champion, bursting with energy - nothing hid from its heat...
I love the words associated with this visible glory of God - resplendant, robust, visible to all!
CS Lewis wrote an essay with the above title and in it he expounds the enormity of this idea of image bearer.
"It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet (if at all) only in a nightmare. All day long we are...helping each other to one or other of these destinations. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal."

Homeward Bound

Yes, that we are.
I'm about to descend the stairs (luggage bulging with a few new books:) to hang out at the Porter's Lodge till our cab arrives.
It is four in the morning for you as I write this and it will be six in the evening for you when D.V., we touch down on Canadian soil.
Home is where the heart is.
I look forward to connecting with you there.
Thanks for keeping me company, it was very sweet and enjoyable to my spirit while away.

Farewell Reception at Queen's College

The bagpipe carries a long and honorable history stretching back to the beginnings civilisation as one of the oldest instruments created and played by early humans.
In Britain, its history and fate, except in the Highlands of Scotland, followed the same pattern as on the continent. It came with the Celts and the Romans and flourished for centuries as the instrument of the common people. It was played at fairs, weddings, open air dancing, pageants and all sorts of processions and merry makings. It is mentioned and described in books of all kinds, from the plays of Shakespeare to country ballads, and pictures and carvings of it are numerous. Elaborate forms of it became popular in Northumbria, Ireland and Southern Scotland. In the first two places they are still played though in all other parts of the country it disappeared about the beginning of the eighteenth century.























Catherine and the crazy bunch whom I'm assuming are still over at Bag End, drowning their sorrows and saying their goodbyes. Now it's my turn to roll the eyes! :)
Actually, I'll just stay completely out of it. I was excited to see her take off and integrate like that....she presumed to lecture me to get out there and meet people!

I'm a wee bit proud of this one too.

When I have it up as a slide on my screen I can count the raindrops...

Queen's College dormitories....

The calm after the storm. Ah yes, the storm.

We had a freak downpour this afternoon complete with thunder and lightning flashes -- it lasted precisely all of the 30 minutes or so that it took me to pick my way over to Queen's.

My sandals were drenched to the point where I feared wrenching my ankle. I thought taking them off would have been far safer, but in the end, keeping the trot to a minimum got me there well and good.

I kept thinking about that spike at the top of my umbrella as the bolts came down around me.

..hmmm...that might have restored some curl to the hair eh?

By the way, we're coming home with a new Brit model of hair blower and hot rollers. Whoever is next to cross the pond is most welcome to them!

Ah! finally found it!

I love this shot and have deemed it a fitting photo to close my Ode to Cambridge.

We're "strolling" back from Queen's and Catherine long legs with her friend Elizabeth have left me in the dusk :)

I wish I knew the identity of these buildings but now is not the time to tarry...now it's time to FLY!

There is a time for everything, and a
season for everything under heaven:
...a time to search
i.e. self and the search for meaning
...and a time to give up
i.e. go back home :)























Yeah, that's taking a rather big liberty with
scripture but I trust you will forgive me this once.
This is the other pic of Joanne I found on file.

I'm leaving on a jet plane with approx. 700 images
on file. I think that's quite sufficient and not too
overblown.

One last trek through hallowed halls of stone and mortar.

I did want to point out this tree to my Barry.

Surely it is the largest Beech I've laid eyes on.

Here it is from Trinity Bridge....then I walked over the bridge at Clare college to get the close-ups of the trunk that I am very sure, three of us would not be able to put our arms around!

I'm not sure the pic's will show the scope of it....

Sure am glad we got our tour in yesterday -- look at the punt traffic today!

A sailor greets us every morning from that balconey above the pasty (pronounce with short a) store I was telling you about earlier. I posted a letter today from a quaint Cambridge postie and actually got a bit lost trying to find my way back to Great St. Mary's. Catherine rolls her eyes at this sad but familiar confession. I must say, it's a very lovely place to get lost. I didn't mind the experience in the least! It was the sailor I spotted from a great distance -- like a beacon in the night sky guiding me safely "home".

These are the very ornate doors of the campus chapel I never once entered for prayers this week.

Too modern for my liking and I didn't want it to trump my memory of the "real deal" back at Keble College.

So I was also too tired at 6:30am to get in there!

So yeah.

I was.

Punting the River Cam

I've been under some pressure to produce a picture of myself on this blog. You can understand that is a difficult thing to do when the camera is always is my hands. The other dilemma is "posing" and being at Catherine's mercy. Well, you might recall that I was taking an online photography course along with daughter Amy. She has taken off with her assignments and is producing great stuff for her blog, scrapbooking and family memories.
She took shot of me at a house gathering two days before we left for England and just e-mailed them to me now. I like its candidness and I sure hope that in posting it, those who have been asking will be satisfied once and for all.
Thank you Amy for adopting this new hobby with such vengeance and finesse! I love your artistry and I love the moments you are capturing of our family in film. I shall have to remember to turn the lens your way from here on in!
There is one other in front of Ely that never made it to the blog -- perhaps I will ferret thru the files and post it as well. And then may your cries be forever stilled!


I don't know how Catherine took this shot - she must have simply held the camera above her head and did a blind point and shoot. Our boat companions were John and Laura with their daughter Elizabeth and her friend Rachel.

The impressive King's College flanked by her equally impressive library...yes -- Library which holds 75,000 titles including original work of Isaac Newton and William Shakespeare.

I can't believe I remembered all that!

We walked over this very bridge (Trinity Bridge) every day at least twice and probably more like four times daily. One had to cross the river to get to Great St.Mary's in the city center.

The Bridge of Sighs. Our guide regaled us with a swashbuckling tale of the executions that take place on this very bridge.

Then he added the detail that it merely transported students to the place of their annual exams and that it felt very much like going to execution.

Funny boy.

This is a statue of King Henry VI who has something to do with Kings College. Remember the shot I posted of the cows grazing in a field opposite the imposing structure of Kings?

Our guide informed us that it was this King who decreed by law to have precisely four cows to gaze at from that vantage point indefinitely!

When I asked what the point of that was he suggested the King was fond of cheeseburgers -- then he confessed that he didn't have the foggiest clue.

The only bridge with a cast iron underside - and so decorative to boot!

Our guide gave some detail about the ugly cheap brick covering this side of the building -- unmatched from the rest because the project ran dry of funds, hence the encouragement of ivy cover.

In a few years, the ivy will break down the brick well enough to start over I suppose.

How is that economical she wonders?

The little dock from which one jumps or delicately steps into the punt...

Here's my room at Robinson College with a desk and chair that now fits me like a glove.

Many late night hours and even more early morning hours were spent there - catching you up on the events of the day. I couldn't show you Catherines' room...it wouldn't be a decent thing for the public eye.

Each room shares a balconey with the room next to them and overlooks a wide expanse of trees and gardens. I took a walk back there and met up with a fireweed I think. My thumb brushed ever so slightly on something that looked like a thistle bush - it stung and welted up immediately - but it disappeared just as fast. What a strange plant.

Tearing off the Dragon's Skin

That's another phrase for transformation.
Go back to the previous post to hear the conclusion of that inspiring speech by Malcolm Guite.
Malcolm claims to read the Chronicles once through every year since he was a boy. It was especially delightful to hear someone recall the story in such detail from memory. To have it delivered in the lovely lilt of his Irish tongue was rich indeed.

Locusts and Honey

A glass of shiraz on my left, a wedge of old cheddar and a pint of blueberries on my right -- good choral music streaming from the laptop speakers and finally, in conversation with you.
Life is good.
Do you understand the title of this post?

Yes. You remembered! I've set out to tell you about an amazing presentation put forward by the wild John the Baptist type I wrote of earlier.

Malcolm Guite is the preacher poet that conducts Catherines Poetry Workshop.
He chose this beautiful title: Be Ye Transformed...the Way of personal transformation in the writings of C.S. Lewis and based it on 1 John 3: 1,2 which says:
How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!
The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Dear friends, now we are the children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.
This is a good summary of the conference theme: Imago Dei? No question about it!

Now I shall attempt to summarize his message using the hastily scribbled notes in my program.
Malcolm gets into this idea of transformation by bringing us to the book Voyage of the Dawn
Treader from the Chronicles. This book in particular is often cited as a personal favourite and it's easy to see why when you hear the story.
Eustace is a self-centered boy who goes his own way in search of treasure. He finds a great heap of it in a mountainous cave and in his greedy exhilaration flops atop it and falls asleep. He wakes up a dragon. He discovers too late, he has trespassed into the dragons lair and become one with them. He did not bargain for that per se, but since he has "made his bed, he must now lie in it!"
Life as a dragon is a lonely one. Eustace soon finds himself friendless, his crusty ugly exterior scaring everyone off before a word is spoken - if he could speak.
He meets up with Aslan who hears his plea for help and accompanies him to a lake -- a lake he must be baptized in for deliverance. But first he is told to undress, to peel away the hordes of old adamisk layers acquired in his life as a wandering dragon.
Despite many attempts to do this on his own (for Eustace had not dealt severely enough yet with his pride) it could not be done -- at least not without excruciating pain.
In agonizing defeat he concedes to lying down beside the lake and in terror, he submits himself to the claws of Aslan to remove the dragonish scales of his "person".
Through great pain, his exterior is finally shed and Eustace, with his tender sensitive skin follows Aslan into the water where his healing slowly takes place and his little boy-self emerges once more.
The story goes on to show us a much different Eustace - not perfect and not yet without fault and weakness, but one who seems far more concentrated on the well-being of others and much less concerned for his own.
To the Christ follower, the parallels are obvious.
It is a matter of trust and obey to submit to the claws of Aslan -- in the hope of removing our dragonish exterior to become the people we were created to be.
Transformation is the work of Jesus.
We cannot lose the layers on our own, tho' we waste much energy and many a year trying.
Furthermore, it will never be done in isolation but only in communion with Aslan.

*sigh* It's time to go home and read the Chronicles over again.

All Roads Lead to Narnia...

"Okay, let's go around the room, each of us state our name and then list your favourite Lewis book and why."

This was the ice-breaker strategy of the guest lecturer for my afternoon courses here at Cambridge. He happens to be Dr. Michael Ward, Anglican clergyman, author of Planet Narnia: The Seven Heavens in the Imagination of C.S. Lewis, former President of the Oxford C.S. Lewis Society and administrator of The Kilns from 1996-1999. http://www.planetnarnia.com/

He recalled living there (The Kilns) before the reno when it was in a state of serious disrepair - when it was a "dung heap" as his friends were wont to call it.

My answer to his question you may already know if you're following this blog - my intro to Lewis was playing the part of the White Witch in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe so it naturally holds a special place in my heart. After that, A Grief Observed was an early influence and much appreciated source of comfort in the late 80's.

What's your favourite and what makes it so?

If I had my wits about me I'd create some sort of poll that you could sign into...alas, I decline for the sake of self-preservation. Some things on this computer still take too long and are therefore more trouble than they're worth!

The Planet Narnia is a work of genius, a breakthrough in the endless quest to understand the structure of Narnia's symbolism. The author demonstrates that medieval cosmology, a subject which fascinated Lewis throughout his life, provides the imaginative key to the seven novels. Drawing on the whole range of Lewis's writings (including previously unpublished drafts of the Chronicles), Ward reveals how the Narnia stories were designed to express the characteristics of the seven medieval planets -- Jupiter, Mars, Sol, Luna, Mercury, Venus and Saturn -- planets which Lewis described as 'spiritual symbols of permanent value' and 'especially worthwhile in our own generation.'

In The Discarded Image, Lewis' introduction to the medieval worldview, he repeatedly encourages his readers to take a stroll under the sky at night. Looking up at the heavens now, Lewis argues, is a very different experience from what it was in the Middle Ages.

Back then, in the nearest part of the sky our eyes would have seen--or, rather, see through--the transparent sphere in which the Planet Luna revolves, then the larger sphere of Mercury, then the still larger one of Venus, and so on through the spheres of Sol, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn, each sphere rotating more rapidly than the last and each exerting a peculiar influence upon mundane people and events, and even upon the metals in the Earth's crust. Beyond Saturn's sphere we would have seen the heaven of the fixed stars, the Stellatum, and, beyond that, the Primum Mobile, the sphere which conveys movement to all the other, lower spheres. Further than the Primum Mobile we would not have been able to see, for that would take our sight outside the created order in the Empyrean, the very home of God and all the elect.

You might be asking yourself the question, "What exactly does astrology have to do with Christianity?"
And I will attempt to answer that in some future post...if you're interested, which of course, I won't know unless you comment. I would like to know what you're favourite Lewis work is and then I shall publish those results.
Right now I'm off to the Bag End Cafe where pilgrims/artists of many kind meet for fellowship and a pint of beer. I think Catherine might be presenting a poem and I don't want to miss it!
Luv y'll but feeling sad that this will soon be history...

About the heavens...

I made a fascinating discovery today -- Of all the Psalms, the 19th was a personal favourite to
C.S.Lewis. Now I sit in a class called C.S.Lewis and the Heavens - Search for Meaning in the Sky and it's starting to come together...I have some eureka moments and many more slow realizations, moments where something just comes into a sharper focus like an automatic zoom lens sorting itself out.
I'm quite undecided about whether or not (or how much) to share the things I'm learning in class - it terribly exciting to me - yet I am fully aware it may not be of great interest to you.
Delving into the mysteries of medieval cosmology OR knowing how people viewed the heavens when they looked into the night sky (before all the light pollution of the Industrial Age and beyond! ) OR the many references to astrology in the Bible and the significance of the constellation mentioned therein.
....I shrug my shoulders with indecision dear friends.
here's the new ground covered in my attempt to memorize Psalm 19, picking up at verse 5:

In the heavens he has prepared a tent for the sun,

which is like a bridegroom coming forth from his pavilion,

like a champion rejoicing to run his course. (what imagery!?)

It rises from one end of the heavens and makes its circuit to the other;

nothing is hidden from its heat.

Well todays circuit has begun, may the sun greet you warmly as it has for me.

Chilford Hall, Linton Cambridgeshire

Monday in Cambridge dawned crisp and bright. A new route through shady parkland, along stonewalls and through ornamental gates needs to be learned...this daily 15 minute walk is refreshing and even more enjoyable than Oxford.

Pasty is an authentic local food. There's a sweet shop behind our main conference venue, Great St.Mary's that specializes in such fare and I simply had to investigate.

A sign next to the ceiling answers the question that must surely be asked endlessly by the curious like me.

T'was very good indeed... especially with a slowly savoured latte at a window booth.

I chose a pasty filled with chicken, mushroom & onion filling. They have quite the lovefest going on here for mushrooms! We get them at breakfast ALL the time along with the brown beans.

My palate is inquisitive but beans at breakfast doesn't appeal -- nor do the ever present pea mashers at lunch.

Drive-through ATM machines on a pedestrianized cobblestreet means bike or banen only.

Is that correct Dutch for legs?

This is Malcolm Guite (below) the fella that brings the wildness of John the Baptist to my mind.

Catherine sits under the inspiring tutelage of this fiery, pastor/singer/artist in her Poetry
Workshop here at Cambridge. Her assessment? "Oh he's crazy mom, crazy good. Yeah, I like him a lot."
I'll be searching out his recordings if any exist. His lyricism speak a theology thoughtful and profound.

They might even measure to the Giants of that category in my mind: Rich Mullins & Carolyn Arends.

Great St. Mary's of Cambridge:

Home of this weeks mass conference gatherings.

This is viewed from the back of the building. Across the street is the open air market. I climbed 123 steps of a ridiculously narrow spiral staircase to the tower peak for the aerial photos posted a few days ago.

I took the shot standing outside Paperchase, a card store that I lost an hour to reading all the cards...highly reminiscent of another time when me

and my bro were standing on either side of a Hallmark stand, unaware of each other, reading cards and laughing out loud at the good ones. Such a silly but fine memory for both of us!

Well then, there will be no such Romeo & Juliette re-enactments allowed here in college country.

Boys absolutely, not permitted.

The beautiful elegant Clare College, whose grounds we saunter through by special arrangement each day we head for Great St.Mary's.

The crowning glory of this College is her well-kept, formal gardens...

So I took this pic and thought to myself, "What a stodgy formal bunch they are...a tad excessive in their opinion of themselves as gardeners?

A wee bit overblown perhaps?"

But no, then I took my eyes off the view finder and turned my head for a change -- and there they were!

Yes, the garden is a haven and sanctuary after all.

One must simply look around and quit her unbending, strict stride to and fro.

(a more flowery version of: Stop and smell the roses lassy!)

I am rather proud of this shot. It's what I see from the pea-gravel path in the park en route to the city center.

Those are real cows, yes. Lazing about and chewing cud.

This pic is for sister Cathy who is the newest greenhouse authority on our country block.

I found this on site of the Chilford Country Hall - a dilapidated sorry sight in need of some love.

I just thought of you instantly sweet sis and wanted to say howdy, you're missed.

(How was the metrical rhythm of that?....I best not share it with Catherine the Poet just yet eh?)

Okay, okay, the shutter speed was all wrong. But you get the picture right?

75 conferees of various age and ability swirling around to the traditional English dance tunes of the Mellstock Country Band.

Catherine and I went for an evening stroll the first night in Cambridge and our over-active imagination thought we heard the incessant hoot of the owl.

We soon discovered it was merely an oversized version of the morning dove -- y'know?...the sort you want to obliterate with a BB gun after the first ten minutes?

Commiserating with fellow dinner

attendants in the statuary gardens of Chilford Winery.

www.chilfordhall.co.uk/

The Mellstock Country Band. Of course I bought their music books and Cd's! Look out next Vanderkruk family function! www.whitecottagewebsites.co.uk/mellstock/members.htm

Catherine and her chosen dance partner, Elizabeth.

It was obvious they had a blast!

They took the last bus back if that's an indicator.