Bridges

When we were going to move to Tyndale House, I was a little worried. "Tyndale House is an international centre for biblical research, founded in a spirit of loyalty to the historic Christian faith. It is a community of scholars, working mostly at postgraduate level." It attracts lots of American folks coming to study at Cambridge. That's us.





It also particularly attracts conservative Evangelical American folks.



It was great and all that we were moving closer to everything and that the rent was half of what we were paying, but would we really be accepted?



We are generally speaking, theologically evangelical - certainly confident of 'the historic Christian faith' - but we are not culturally Evangelicals and we tend to be left of centre politically.



We are part of a denomination that is seen by many people as "liberal" or "dead" or "falling apart at the seams". We see it as a place where people are free to ask hard questions, where it is okay not to agree about everything. We are going through a really difficult time right now as a communion and unfortunately, our dirty laundry is being aired in the media.



I am a working mum who has a career, not just a job to support my husband in his call. (I do, of course, support him in his call and he supports me in mine.) Because of this, I wouldn't be able to participate in some of the daytime community things like the women's Bible study. We are really bad at keeping things tidy. Our place always looks like a tip despite our best intentions.



Could I really be comfortable? Could I really be myself?

The answer most happily is "YES."

I suppose I could go on and on explaining why and how this is, but I think it can be summed up simply. At least at this moment in time, Tyndale House is a judgement free, guilt free zone in which we can live our faith the best we can among others living their faith the best they can.

One of the families we live among are the Leonards. They are the self-proclaimed "Cambridge Hillbillies" They couldn't be from a more different background from us, and yet, you can see from a quick glance at Angie's blog the gifts they bring to the Tyndale community.





In her post at the above link, she says, "Bridges connect people, both literally and figuratively."



Angie's entry about bridges in Cambridge made think of Christ as the bridge connecting us here at Tyndale House. It also brought to mind two other bridges, one literal and one figurative.

My Favorite Bridge:
I cycle about 2-1/2 miles to work everyday. Everyday I cross my favorite bridge in Cambridge. It is not a beautiful bridge. It is utilitarian. It is used to cross the river Cam to work, to school, etc. by many people each day. I don't think it has a name, but my vote is "consideration bridge." You see, this bridge is too narrow to be crossed from both directions at the same time. You must wait for a group of cyclists and pedestrians to cross from the opposite direction. As they meet you at your end, they will say "thank you" or "thanks" or "ta" or "cheers." When you cross to the other side you in turn thank those who have waited for you. We are a community of carbon-free commuters linked together by a bridge and a little consideration.




Liturgy:
We were having some after dinner conversation with our Swedish friends Andreas and Victoria one night a couple weeks ago. The discussion turned to worship. Jason mentioned that the word "liturgy" translated means "work of the people" or "public work." Jason explained to our friends that in America that when we talk about "Public Works" we mean things the government provides for the benefit of all citizens (water, roads, snow removal, etc.). Worship is a service we provide to the world that makes a relationship with God available to all.


This brought into my mind liturgy as a bridge (actually, I saw the Mathematical Bridge in my mind's eye). In worship we lay ourselves down. We make ourselves vulnerable to God and to others.



I think of our church in St. Joseph, Michigan. Many folks originally arrived at St. Paul's because they were invited to a wedding or a funeral or some other special service and ended up staying. As they were crossing the bridge of worship, they found themselves in a surprising place. Some of these folks had no faith or a very nominal faith before they joined us. As we worshiped together, they ceased to be pedestrians, and laid themselves down and became an integral part of the bridge.





And that, of course, returns me to the ultimate bridge, Jesus Christ, who reconciles us to God, coming from the Father to bridge the gulf to creation, and making possible reconciliation and new life - and the forming of us and our lives into 'bridges'. In this, we encounter friends, strangers, and brothers and sisters in Christ (who are nevertheless somewhat different from us), and we are given the grace to be a bridge for them, even as they are a bridge for us.