Home Thoughts from Abroad
April 16, 2011
Strange times. I return to the US after a week in Wales to find that my fellow Englishman, Paul Levy, has launched the end-time class war by going after the Anglicans in general and the Rt. Hon. Jonathan Fletcher, Bt., in particular. That is my job, Paul. Back off.
Still Wales was good. Wet and cold, so I can understand why Paul made the decision to return to his homeland and take up a position as Pastor of Offshore Investments in a leafy suburban church outside the Smoke. But good nonetheless.
Indeed, the bash I was at -- New Word Alive - reminded me of a number of contrasts between the UK and America.
First, the conference was built around content not speakers. In fact, I was almost refused entry to my own final seminar because I could not find my armband. I was unrecognized by the steward even after speaking three times. Fantastic. In the UK, people come to hear what is said; they do not particularly care for who is saying it. This is subtly evident in the way events are marketed in the two countries. It also points to a major cultural difference. In the US in general, there is great suspicion of institutions yet huge and often naïve confidence placed in individuals. This is part of what makes celebrity culture so important, from politics to the church. In the UK, there is an often naïve trust in institutions but far more suspicion of individuals. I make this point as an observation; but also to flag the fact that US culture lends itself more readily to the problems Paul highlights in 1 Corinthians.
Second, no speaker made reference (almost obligatory when speaking at trendy Reformed evangelical conferences in the US) to how gorgeous his wife is. That is an odd and most distasteful American phenomenon. As one friend recently pointed out to me, such men are actually boasting about themselves, not honouring their wives. It amounts to little more than the old rugby changing room protocol where the male of the species draws attention to how virile he is on the basis of the bird/babe/chick (choose your demeaning noun) he has been able to 'pull.' One wishes that references by American speakers to their wives focused a little more on their godly characters and a little less on their vital statistics.
Third, no middle aged speaker (and we were all middle-aged and unashamed of the fact) felt the need to talk like a teenager in some kind of embarrassing street lingo. Self-deprecation and acknowledgment that, as far as trendiness goes, that horse bolted years ago, was the order of the day.
Fourth, the only person who cried at my seminar was Bob Kauflin. And he is an American. And he is in Sovereign Grace Ministries. I do not think I need to explain further.
Fifth, the appetite for serious theology in the UK church seems to be rising. I gave seminars on Athanasius on the Trinity, Luther on the cross, Augustine and Pascal on the psychology of sin, and Schleiermacher and Machen on the nature of Christianity. The marquee was full each day, the questions afterwards were thoughtful and intelligent, and the people were of all ages and from all levels of society: I spoke with highly educated Oxbridge grads and new converts from tough estates in Liverpool. The experiences of Mike Ovey and Mike Reeves, also running serious theological seminar tracks, were similar. And, for the first time ever in the UK, I was asked serious questions about ecclesiology, sacraments and confessions. Immensely encouraging.
Sixth, no clones, no groupies, no wannabes. Nobody trying to come up and impress you or be like you or, even worse, be you. Speakers are just not that important as individuals. Indeed, I hung around with Mike Reeves much of the week. Mike is an outstanding theologian and perhaps the only shortsighted Reformed guy I know who has not opted to wear those glasses with the chunky rims that make one look like Rob Bell. Try as we might, the two of us saw nobody else on the campsite wearing either Mike's trademark style rimless glasses or my trademark leather brogues. We clearly failed to clone ourselves. Failure by US standards -- but a great result in the UK.
A great event and a most encouraging week.
Still Wales was good. Wet and cold, so I can understand why Paul made the decision to return to his homeland and take up a position as Pastor of Offshore Investments in a leafy suburban church outside the Smoke. But good nonetheless.
Indeed, the bash I was at -- New Word Alive - reminded me of a number of contrasts between the UK and America.
First, the conference was built around content not speakers. In fact, I was almost refused entry to my own final seminar because I could not find my armband. I was unrecognized by the steward even after speaking three times. Fantastic. In the UK, people come to hear what is said; they do not particularly care for who is saying it. This is subtly evident in the way events are marketed in the two countries. It also points to a major cultural difference. In the US in general, there is great suspicion of institutions yet huge and often naïve confidence placed in individuals. This is part of what makes celebrity culture so important, from politics to the church. In the UK, there is an often naïve trust in institutions but far more suspicion of individuals. I make this point as an observation; but also to flag the fact that US culture lends itself more readily to the problems Paul highlights in 1 Corinthians.
Second, no speaker made reference (almost obligatory when speaking at trendy Reformed evangelical conferences in the US) to how gorgeous his wife is. That is an odd and most distasteful American phenomenon. As one friend recently pointed out to me, such men are actually boasting about themselves, not honouring their wives. It amounts to little more than the old rugby changing room protocol where the male of the species draws attention to how virile he is on the basis of the bird/babe/chick (choose your demeaning noun) he has been able to 'pull.' One wishes that references by American speakers to their wives focused a little more on their godly characters and a little less on their vital statistics.
Third, no middle aged speaker (and we were all middle-aged and unashamed of the fact) felt the need to talk like a teenager in some kind of embarrassing street lingo. Self-deprecation and acknowledgment that, as far as trendiness goes, that horse bolted years ago, was the order of the day.
Fourth, the only person who cried at my seminar was Bob Kauflin. And he is an American. And he is in Sovereign Grace Ministries. I do not think I need to explain further.
Fifth, the appetite for serious theology in the UK church seems to be rising. I gave seminars on Athanasius on the Trinity, Luther on the cross, Augustine and Pascal on the psychology of sin, and Schleiermacher and Machen on the nature of Christianity. The marquee was full each day, the questions afterwards were thoughtful and intelligent, and the people were of all ages and from all levels of society: I spoke with highly educated Oxbridge grads and new converts from tough estates in Liverpool. The experiences of Mike Ovey and Mike Reeves, also running serious theological seminar tracks, were similar. And, for the first time ever in the UK, I was asked serious questions about ecclesiology, sacraments and confessions. Immensely encouraging.
Sixth, no clones, no groupies, no wannabes. Nobody trying to come up and impress you or be like you or, even worse, be you. Speakers are just not that important as individuals. Indeed, I hung around with Mike Reeves much of the week. Mike is an outstanding theologian and perhaps the only shortsighted Reformed guy I know who has not opted to wear those glasses with the chunky rims that make one look like Rob Bell. Try as we might, the two of us saw nobody else on the campsite wearing either Mike's trademark style rimless glasses or my trademark leather brogues. We clearly failed to clone ourselves. Failure by US standards -- but a great result in the UK.
A great event and a most encouraging week.
