It has been five weeks since I submitted my thesis, but still
there is no date set for my oral examination that must be
convened before April 21. Meanwhile I try to keep the shape
of the day that I had before I finished my thesis, but without
the intensity and stress. I continue with Morning Prayer on
weekdays and the North Point a couple times a week. I am
usually in my office from 9:30 or so in the morning until 8:00
in the evening, leaving my office often to eat meals, run er-
rands, go for a walk, and nap, a gift from God.
There are plenty of things for me to do each day. I have dis-
ciplined myself to read through Psalms and Proverbs each
month and to work through the whole Bible in five or six
months. I have people whom I remember in prayer. If I neg-
lect this spiritual discipline in my life, I get discouraged and
run down. I am working hard to respond to all the letters
and emails that I have neglected since the summer. I am
reading Robert Kaplan's Hog Pilots, Blue Water Grunts,
Stephen Lawhead's The Iron Lance, and Christopher Wright's
The Mission of God. Also I am correcting a colleague's doc-
toral thesis and volunteering four hours a week at a Chris-
tian coffeeshop and bookstore nearby. Considerable time is
spent filling out all the paperwork for the admission process
to the Church of Scotland. I am beginning to dismantle my of-
fice desk and bedroom in preparation for the next task God
has given me to do.
Overall, it is a pleasant time to be in, but I am eager to move
on to the next stage in my life. Please keep me in your thoughts
and prayers.
All the best to you and yours, Jeff T.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Compline Splendor
I recently came to recognize compline as one of the unex-
pected jewels of my time here in St. Andrews. It is one of
the little-known diamonds of this ancient university town.
Ever since I first arrived here in the fall of 2003, compline
has been a special part of my life as a divinity student. At-
tending the 10pm compline service every Thursday of term
at the little St. Leonard's Chapel became a weekly routine
that I rarely missed.
The ancient Christian order of compline is a quiet service of
reflection before rest at the end of the day. The word comes
from the Latin word for completion. The 25-minute service
is a rich blend of crying out to God and hearing God's prom-
ises through spoken and sung Scripture. It is composed of
an introit, several blessings, a confession of sin, a congrega-
tional hymn, a choral anthem, prayer for protection through
the night, a confession of faith, and a committal of one's self
into God's hands. It ends with three minutes of silence fol-
lowed by people leaving quietly. Compline is a time of rest
for me because I lay aside the busyness of my life and enter
into God's Story. I am reminded of the ways God has guided
me, provided for me, and protected me. I hear again of God's
unrelenting redeeming love that will never let me go. Com-
pline is my weekly anchorage in a haven of rest.
Last Thursday, the seventh of February, I looked forward
to crowning my birthday with compline. The simple chapel,
constructed around 1450, was lit by the glow of candles
placed around the interior walls. The stalls of seating hold
no more than sixty people and face one another across a cen-
tral aisle. There was a steady stream of students entering
and finding seats in the back section of the chapel. In the
stalls up front fifteen or so students decked out in their red
academic robes made up the choir. The organist, usually an
advanced student organist, was setting the mood for the ser-
vice. I felt like I was at home and I was content to wait for
the service to start.
It was just a few minutes until starting time when I noticed
that the appointed minister for the night had not arrived. I
also observed that the choir director and the university mu-
sic director were discussing something. Then they looked at
me. Before I could fret and bolt, the music director was in
front of me asking whether I would be so kind as to take
charge of compline. I gulped, said yes, and moved over to
the minister's seat. The choir director gave me a list of the
music that would be part of the service. Before I knew it,
the choir was singing the introit. I announced the choral
music and the hymn that we would soon be singing. And
then we were off in the majestic beauty of compline.
It is my fourth year of attending compline, so I was confi-
dent about what I needed to do. I have always desired to
lead compline, but I never expected that I would have the
opportunity to direct God's people in compline in such an
ancient place of prayer. I felt like a director who is charged
with bringing order to the interaction of a choir and chorus.
I used my voice to set mood and tempo, thus guiding the
people through the beautifully crafted liturgy. It gave me
great joy to do that! Before I knew it, we had entered into
the three minutes of silence. And then I left refreshed, ready
for my nightly rest.
Blessings to you and yours
pected jewels of my time here in St. Andrews. It is one of
the little-known diamonds of this ancient university town.
Ever since I first arrived here in the fall of 2003, compline
has been a special part of my life as a divinity student. At-
tending the 10pm compline service every Thursday of term
at the little St. Leonard's Chapel became a weekly routine
that I rarely missed.
The ancient Christian order of compline is a quiet service of
reflection before rest at the end of the day. The word comes
from the Latin word for completion. The 25-minute service
is a rich blend of crying out to God and hearing God's prom-
ises through spoken and sung Scripture. It is composed of
an introit, several blessings, a confession of sin, a congrega-
tional hymn, a choral anthem, prayer for protection through
the night, a confession of faith, and a committal of one's self
into God's hands. It ends with three minutes of silence fol-
lowed by people leaving quietly. Compline is a time of rest
for me because I lay aside the busyness of my life and enter
into God's Story. I am reminded of the ways God has guided
me, provided for me, and protected me. I hear again of God's
unrelenting redeeming love that will never let me go. Com-
pline is my weekly anchorage in a haven of rest.
Last Thursday, the seventh of February, I looked forward
to crowning my birthday with compline. The simple chapel,
constructed around 1450, was lit by the glow of candles
placed around the interior walls. The stalls of seating hold
no more than sixty people and face one another across a cen-
tral aisle. There was a steady stream of students entering
and finding seats in the back section of the chapel. In the
stalls up front fifteen or so students decked out in their red
academic robes made up the choir. The organist, usually an
advanced student organist, was setting the mood for the ser-
vice. I felt like I was at home and I was content to wait for
the service to start.
It was just a few minutes until starting time when I noticed
that the appointed minister for the night had not arrived. I
also observed that the choir director and the university mu-
sic director were discussing something. Then they looked at
me. Before I could fret and bolt, the music director was in
front of me asking whether I would be so kind as to take
charge of compline. I gulped, said yes, and moved over to
the minister's seat. The choir director gave me a list of the
music that would be part of the service. Before I knew it,
the choir was singing the introit. I announced the choral
music and the hymn that we would soon be singing. And
then we were off in the majestic beauty of compline.
It is my fourth year of attending compline, so I was confi-
dent about what I needed to do. I have always desired to
lead compline, but I never expected that I would have the
opportunity to direct God's people in compline in such an
ancient place of prayer. I felt like a director who is charged
with bringing order to the interaction of a choir and chorus.
I used my voice to set mood and tempo, thus guiding the
people through the beautifully crafted liturgy. It gave me
great joy to do that! Before I knew it, we had entered into
the three minutes of silence. And then I left refreshed, ready
for my nightly rest.
Blessings to you and yours
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
The North Point
For over two years Morning Prayer and the North Point
have been the keystones of my weekday morning routine.
I wrote about the former in a previous blog. The latter is a
small coffee shoppe in town where I do my journeying and
journaling du jour. Every weekday at 8:45 I go to Morning
Prayer at the University Chapel. By 9:05 I am usually down
the street sitting in at the North Point and cradling a hot choc-
olate or Fair Trade mocha in my hands. I have been attend-
ing the prayer time for over four years now, but only in the
last two years has my North Point time become a part of my
morning ritual.
Like the University Chapel, the North Point has become, to
a great extent, sacred space for me. In the morning I usu-
ally put in an hour or more of work at the office before tak-
ing a break that begins with prayer in the Chapel. My time
at the North Point has become the continuation of a daily
mini-Sabbath that begins with the earlier prayer time. Morn-
ing Prayer and drinking a mocha have become essential
morning activities of my weekday routine.
The North Point Coffee Shoppe is a small place crammed
with six two-seat tables, two three-seaters, three stools by
the window, and six tables that seat four people. The Hap-
py Hour was what first drew me to the North Point and
what continues to attract me there now. For the price of
one British pound (about $2US) I have a place where I can
sit, write, talk, and enjoy a good hot drink until I leave at
9:45 or so. Not many people are there at 9am when I usu-
ally take a place at one of the two-seat tables. There is a
quietness then that comforts me and soothing music that
makes me feel at home. By the time I leave, there is a con-
stant stream of people coming and going. I'm always as-
tounded at the thunderous sound of three dozen or so peo-
ple talking at the same time, all compressed into such a
small place.
A place and a time to journal my life journey while sipping
on a Happy Hour hot chocolate are what I like best about
my North Point routine. By journaling I chronicle and reflect
on people I meet, conversations I have, movies I see, things
I do, books I read, thoughts that emerge in my mind, and
insights that occur to me. It is a personal way that I signal
to God that I am paying attention to what He is doing and
whom He brings into my life. It helps me to take God seri-
ously in everything I do. And there are times I enjoy rich
conversations with friends, colleagues, and people I just hap-
pen to meet in the North Point. At other times I tune out
everything around me and read from a good book. There
have been occasions when all I have done is just sit there
doing nothing. The North Point has become a refuge for me.
Whereas some form of morning prayer is a discipline that
I will exercize for the rest of my life, my North Point rou-
tine is not. For the past two years in St. Andrews it has been
a wonderful ritual and an important part of my life. But it is
temporary. Soon the time will come when I will leave St.
Andrews. I will no longer enter the North Point; the Hap-
py Hours will become deeply cherished memories. But un-
til that time comes, I will continue to enjoy the journeying
and journaling du jour at the North Point.
Blessings to you and yours
have been the keystones of my weekday morning routine.
I wrote about the former in a previous blog. The latter is a
small coffee shoppe in town where I do my journeying and
journaling du jour. Every weekday at 8:45 I go to Morning
Prayer at the University Chapel. By 9:05 I am usually down
the street sitting in at the North Point and cradling a hot choc-
olate or Fair Trade mocha in my hands. I have been attend-
ing the prayer time for over four years now, but only in the
last two years has my North Point time become a part of my
morning ritual.
Like the University Chapel, the North Point has become, to
a great extent, sacred space for me. In the morning I usu-
ally put in an hour or more of work at the office before tak-
ing a break that begins with prayer in the Chapel. My time
at the North Point has become the continuation of a daily
mini-Sabbath that begins with the earlier prayer time. Morn-
ing Prayer and drinking a mocha have become essential
morning activities of my weekday routine.
The North Point Coffee Shoppe is a small place crammed
with six two-seat tables, two three-seaters, three stools by
the window, and six tables that seat four people. The Hap-
py Hour was what first drew me to the North Point and
what continues to attract me there now. For the price of
one British pound (about $2US) I have a place where I can
sit, write, talk, and enjoy a good hot drink until I leave at
9:45 or so. Not many people are there at 9am when I usu-
ally take a place at one of the two-seat tables. There is a
quietness then that comforts me and soothing music that
makes me feel at home. By the time I leave, there is a con-
stant stream of people coming and going. I'm always as-
tounded at the thunderous sound of three dozen or so peo-
ple talking at the same time, all compressed into such a
small place.
A place and a time to journal my life journey while sipping
on a Happy Hour hot chocolate are what I like best about
my North Point routine. By journaling I chronicle and reflect
on people I meet, conversations I have, movies I see, things
I do, books I read, thoughts that emerge in my mind, and
insights that occur to me. It is a personal way that I signal
to God that I am paying attention to what He is doing and
whom He brings into my life. It helps me to take God seri-
ously in everything I do. And there are times I enjoy rich
conversations with friends, colleagues, and people I just hap-
pen to meet in the North Point. At other times I tune out
everything around me and read from a good book. There
have been occasions when all I have done is just sit there
doing nothing. The North Point has become a refuge for me.
Whereas some form of morning prayer is a discipline that
I will exercize for the rest of my life, my North Point rou-
tine is not. For the past two years in St. Andrews it has been
a wonderful ritual and an important part of my life. But it is
temporary. Soon the time will come when I will leave St.
Andrews. I will no longer enter the North Point; the Hap-
py Hours will become deeply cherished memories. But un-
til that time comes, I will continue to enjoy the journeying
and journaling du jour at the North Point.
Blessings to you and yours
Thursday, February 07, 2008
Morning Prayer
With the submission of my thesis I have stopped the daily
routine of reading, writing, and editing that characterized
four years of doctoral research. But there is one routine I
continue even though my academic program has finished:
weekday Morning Prayer at the University Chapel. It has
been the foundation of my time here at the University of
St. Andrews. It gave focus, perspective, and shape to my
scholarly endeavors here.
Ever since the end of September, 2003, I have set aside ten
minutes starting at 8:45 of every weekday of the academic
term for Morning Prayer at the University Chapel. Over
the years a small group of as many as eight academic staff
and students have met for a short time of praise, prayer,
and Scripture reading. Usually it has been just the univer-
sity chaplain and myself. Sometimes I am the only one
there. But I sense the presence of the Lord no matter the
number of us in attendance.
The setting is the splendid majesty of the University Chapel
that has been revered as a place of prayer since 1450. I am
always soothed by the sanctity and peacefulness that per-
vades the place. The central aisle leading to the communion
table and pulpit is flanked by two sets of five rows of seating
that face one another. So we proclaim alternate verses of the
psalm of the day to the persons facing us across the aisle.
There are a variety of fixtures around us that bear testi-
mony to the faith of women and men through the ages.
Before I came here I made a vow to the Lord that I would
set Him at the center of my life in academia. I wanted to be
nurtured and supported in my scholarly journey by prayer
and God's Word. Without God at the center of my life, every-
thing I did would have been pure vanity. I came to Morning
Prayer every weekday that I was able. I needed it day by
day just as much as I needed three square meals a day. Ac-
tually, I realized that I could get by without eating for a day.
But Morning Prayer was not as easy to miss. It provided
order to my day and put whatever I did in proper perspec-
tive. I felt out of sync whenever I missed it. That is why I
went to Morning Prayer just before I submitted my thesis.
My work did not make any sense unless it was seen from
God's perspective and done to His glory.
Over the past two years I have realized I was called to join
with others in prayer at the very heart of the university.
Christian scholarship must be coupled with praise and prayer.
Without those two, our academic endeavors are misinformed
and deformed. The latter is evident everywhere I look in aca-
demia. Furthermore, I have sensed-and I may be wrong
here-that St. Andrews, both the town and the university,
has been the ancient spiritual center of Scotland. And so as
I have discerned that I am called to contribute to the renew-
al of God's people in Scotland, it has become imperative for
me to join with others in praying at Scotland's spiritual
heart. Morning Prayer has been for me four years of being
prepared for ministry here in Scotland as well as providing
the foundation for my doctoral research.
As always, I ask you to please entrust me to God in prayer.
Blessings to you and yours
routine of reading, writing, and editing that characterized
four years of doctoral research. But there is one routine I
continue even though my academic program has finished:
weekday Morning Prayer at the University Chapel. It has
been the foundation of my time here at the University of
St. Andrews. It gave focus, perspective, and shape to my
scholarly endeavors here.
Ever since the end of September, 2003, I have set aside ten
minutes starting at 8:45 of every weekday of the academic
term for Morning Prayer at the University Chapel. Over
the years a small group of as many as eight academic staff
and students have met for a short time of praise, prayer,
and Scripture reading. Usually it has been just the univer-
sity chaplain and myself. Sometimes I am the only one
there. But I sense the presence of the Lord no matter the
number of us in attendance.
The setting is the splendid majesty of the University Chapel
that has been revered as a place of prayer since 1450. I am
always soothed by the sanctity and peacefulness that per-
vades the place. The central aisle leading to the communion
table and pulpit is flanked by two sets of five rows of seating
that face one another. So we proclaim alternate verses of the
psalm of the day to the persons facing us across the aisle.
There are a variety of fixtures around us that bear testi-
mony to the faith of women and men through the ages.
Before I came here I made a vow to the Lord that I would
set Him at the center of my life in academia. I wanted to be
nurtured and supported in my scholarly journey by prayer
and God's Word. Without God at the center of my life, every-
thing I did would have been pure vanity. I came to Morning
Prayer every weekday that I was able. I needed it day by
day just as much as I needed three square meals a day. Ac-
tually, I realized that I could get by without eating for a day.
But Morning Prayer was not as easy to miss. It provided
order to my day and put whatever I did in proper perspec-
tive. I felt out of sync whenever I missed it. That is why I
went to Morning Prayer just before I submitted my thesis.
My work did not make any sense unless it was seen from
God's perspective and done to His glory.
Over the past two years I have realized I was called to join
with others in prayer at the very heart of the university.
Christian scholarship must be coupled with praise and prayer.
Without those two, our academic endeavors are misinformed
and deformed. The latter is evident everywhere I look in aca-
demia. Furthermore, I have sensed-and I may be wrong
here-that St. Andrews, both the town and the university,
has been the ancient spiritual center of Scotland. And so as
I have discerned that I am called to contribute to the renew-
al of God's people in Scotland, it has become imperative for
me to join with others in praying at Scotland's spiritual
heart. Morning Prayer has been for me four years of being
prepared for ministry here in Scotland as well as providing
the foundation for my doctoral research.
As always, I ask you to please entrust me to God in prayer.
Blessings to you and yours
Monday, February 04, 2008
Yes, I Know, the Pats Lost the Super Bowl
I was cheering for my favorite American football team, the
New England Patriots, to win the Super Bowl, be only the
second team in National Football League history to com-
plete an entire season undefeated, and be crowned as per-
haps the greatest football team in NFL history. But as I
was slowly waking up early this morning I was informed by
a distinctly British accented BBC news presenter that, in-
deed, the New York Giants had beaten the previously unde-
feated New England Patriots, 17-14. I spent the rest of the
morning moaning and groaning.
The latest Super Bowl pitted the overwhelmingly favored
New England team, MY team, against the feisty, spunky,
and upstart New York Giants. No one even considered that
the Pats could be beaten, especially in their fourth Super
Bowl in seven years. But it was a setup for an upset, and the
Giants pulled off a giant victory for the ages. It wasn't ex-
actly the news I had wanted to hear. But hey, life goes on.
I have a lot of things I need to do.
All the best.
New England Patriots, to win the Super Bowl, be only the
second team in National Football League history to com-
plete an entire season undefeated, and be crowned as per-
haps the greatest football team in NFL history. But as I
was slowly waking up early this morning I was informed by
a distinctly British accented BBC news presenter that, in-
deed, the New York Giants had beaten the previously unde-
feated New England Patriots, 17-14. I spent the rest of the
morning moaning and groaning.
The latest Super Bowl pitted the overwhelmingly favored
New England team, MY team, against the feisty, spunky,
and upstart New York Giants. No one even considered that
the Pats could be beaten, especially in their fourth Super
Bowl in seven years. But it was a setup for an upset, and the
Giants pulled off a giant victory for the ages. It wasn't ex-
actly the news I had wanted to hear. But hey, life goes on.
I have a lot of things I need to do.
All the best.
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