Living in the Midst of So Much History

If you have ever been to England or Scotland, you know that there's a lot of old stuff there -- houses, statues, graveyards, churches, castles, papers, etc.  It's always a bit of a shock to me as an American where "old" is anything 200 years old to come face to face with a parish church built in the 1400's (Theddlethorpe St. Helen's) or a document (Magna Carta) dating back to 1215 or a castle from the 1000's (Lincoln Castle).

When I was in Epworth, Lincolnshire, I stayed for twelve days at the Red Lion, a a coaching inn so old that it is mentioned in the Domesday Book of the 11th century, and it just happens to be where John Wesley slept whenever he returned to preach in his hometown.  After his father's death in 1735, the family had to vacate the Old Rectory, so when he came back to Epworth, this was pretty much the only place to stay. His first visit to the Red Lion was apparently in 1742, and this is commemorated by a blue historical placque next to the front entrance.  I jokingly suggested they add one that mentioned my first visit in 2017, but they see far too many odd Methodist types to take me very seriously.  ;-)

                            

Being surrounded by so many visible reminders of people who have gone before was exciting and maybe a bit intimidating, and I wondered how living in that milieu affected those who have never known anything different.  Might it be easy to be a little blasé about seeing venerable buildings day in and day out or to walk the same village streets once frequented by notable people who quite literally changed the world?

As I traveled, I posed that question to people living in various places, and they all stopped to give it some serious thought.  To a person, they all admitted that it's something they almost take for granted.  Scott and I laughed when the young man in Castlebay, Isle of Barra, told us in an offhand way to "have fun at the castle," like it was no big deal to take a small boat into the harbor to explore Kisimul Castle, but he's probably seen that tiny fortress every day for all of his 19 years, so it doesn't hold the mystique it surely did for us!

                              

It made me ponder the things back home that I don't really see or appreciate nearly often enough. I may not have an ancient cathedral in my backyard or own a chair that Susanna Wesley sat in, but what is unique and special in my life? And who is unique and special in my life?  Tragedies and accidents and losses usually make us stop for at least a moment, but it passes, and we go right back to acting the same old way.

But what if we made a conscious effort to remember how short and precious life is?  What if we developed a habit of not only thanking God for the blessings in our lives but of expressing our love and delight to those significant people who grace our existence?  What if we saw that we, too, live in the midst of history, common-place though it may seem?  With the Apostle Paul, let us pause to say, "I thank my God every time I remember you" whenever we reflect on the gifts of life and love and laughter shared with others.  Thanks be to God!