I'm back........

I'm back, so look for some posts later in the week dealing with the question I first raised upon my departure.

Pax on this Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul,

CDW

Pope Benedict XVI: On Christian Unity in 2009

N.B. This piece is worthy of your attention for many reasons, first and foremost because Christian unity is a serious matter, and secondly because I wonder what Pope Benedict means when he addresses the Anglican Communion....

On Christian Unity in 2009
"When He Wishes and When We Are Prepared, [God] Will Create Unity"
VATICAN CITY, JAN. 20, 2010 (Zenit.org).- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave today during the general audience in Paul VI Hall.* * *Dear brothers and sisters, We are in the middle of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, an ecumenical initiative, which has been in the making now for more than a century, and which every year attracts attention to a topic: that of the visible unity between Christians, which calls to consciences and stimulates to commitment for all those who believe in Christ. And it does so above all with the invitation to prayer, in imitation of Jesus himself, who prays to the Father for his disciples: "That they may all be one ... so that the world may believe" (John 17:21). The persistent call to prayer for full communion among the followers of the Lord manifests the most authentic and profound orientation of the whole ecumenical quest, because unity, before anything else, is a gift of God. In fact, as the Second Vatican Council affirms: "Human powers and capacities cannot achieve this holy objective -- the reconciling of all Christians in the unity of the one and only Church of Christ" (Unitatis Redintegratio, 24). Hence, what is necessary, beyond our effort to carry out fraternal relations and to promote dialogue to clarify and resolve the differences that separate the Churches and ecclesial communities, is confident and concordant invocation of the Lord. The theme of this year is taken from the Gospel of St. Luke, from the last words of the Risen One to his disciples: "You are witnesses of these things" (Luke 24:48). The proposal of the theme was requested by the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity, in agreement with the Faith and Order Commission of the Ecumenical [World] Council of Churches, from an ecumenical group of Scotland. A century ago, the World Mission Conference for the consideration of problems in reference to the non-Christian world took place in fact in Edinburgh, in Scotland, June 13-24, 1910. Among the problems discussed then was that of the objective difficulty of Christians divided among themselves credibly proposing the evangelical proclamation to the non-Christian world. If Christians present themselves disunited, moreover, often in opposition, will the proclamation of Christ as the only Savior of the world and our peace be credible to a world that does not know Christ or that has distanced itself from him, or that appears indifferent to the Gospel? The relation between unity and mission since that moment has been an essential dimension of the whole ecumenical effort and its point of departure. And it is because of this specific contribution that the Edinburgh Conference remains as one of the firm points of modern ecumenism. At Vatican II, the Catholic Church took up and reaffirmed vigorously this perspective, affirming that the division between the disciples of Jesus "openly contradicts the will of Christ, scandalizes the world, and damages the holy cause of preaching the Gospel to every creature" (Unitatis Redintegratio, 1). Situated in this theological and spiritual context is the theme proposed in this week for meditation and prayer: the need of a common witness of Christ. The brief text proposed as theme, "You are witnesses of these things," must be read in the context of the whole of Chapter 24 of the Gospel according to Luke. Let us recall briefly the content of this chapter. First the women go to the sepulcher, see the signs of the resurrection of Jesus and announce what they have seen to the apostles and to the other disciples (verse 8); then the Risen One himself appears to the disciples of Emmaus along the road, he appears to Simon Peter and, successively, to "the Eleven and those with them" (verse 33). He opens the mind to the understanding of Scriptures on his redeeming death and his resurrection, affirming that "repentance, for the forgiveness of sins, would be preached in his name to all the nations" (verse 47). To the disciples who are "gathered" together and who have been witnesses of his mission, the Risen Lord promises the gift of the Holy Spirit (cf. verse 49), so that together they will give witness of him to all peoples. From this imperative -- "of these things" you are witnesses (cf. Luke 24:48), which is the theme of this Week for Christian Unity -- two questions arise for us. The first: What are "these things"? The second: How can we be witnesses of "these things"? If we look at the context of the chapter, "these things" means above all the cross and resurrection: The disciples have seen the Lord's crucifixion, they see the Risen One and thus begin to understand all the Scriptures that speak of the mystery of the passion and of the gift of the resurrection. "These things," therefore, is the mystery of Christ, of the Son of God made man, who died for us and was resurrected, is alive forever and thus the guarantee of our eternal life. However, by knowing Christ -- this is the essential point -- we know the face of God. Christ is above all the revelation of God. In all times, men have perceived the existence of God, an only God, but who is far away and does not show himself. In Christ this God shows himself; the distant God becomes close. "These things," therefore, above all with the mystery of Christ, is that God has become close to us. This implies another dimension: Christ is never alone; he came in our midst, died alone, but resurrected to attract everyone to himself. As Scripture says, Christ created a body for himself, gathers the whole of humanity in his reality of immortal life. And thus, in Christ who gathers humanity, we know the future of humanity: eternal life. All this, therefore, is very simple, in the last instance: We know God by knowing Christ, his body, the mystery of the Church and the promise of eternal life. We now come to the second question: How can we be witnesses of "these things"? We can be witnesses only by knowing Christ and, knowing Christ, also knowing God. But to know Christ certainly implies an intellectual dimension -- to learn what we know of Christ -- but it is always much more than an intellectual process: It is an existential process, it is a process of an opening of my "I," of my transformation because of the presence and strength of Christ, and thus it is also a process of openness to all others, who must be body of Christ. In this way, it is evident that knowing Christ, as an intellectual and above all an existential process, is a process that makes us witnesses. In other words, we can be witnesses only if we know Christ first hand, and not only through others -- from our own life, from our personal encounter with Christ. Finding him really in our life of faith, we become witnesses and can contribute to the novelty of the world, to eternal life. The Catechism of the Catholic Church also gives us an indication for the content of "these things." The Church has gathered and summarized the essential of what the Lord has given us in Revelation, in the "creed called Niceno-Constantinopolitan, (which) draws its great authority from the fact that it stems from the first two Ecumenical Councils (in 325 and 381)" (CCC, No. 195). The Catechism specifies that this Symbol "remains common to all the great Churches of both East and West to this day" (ibid.) Hence, in this Symbol are found the truths of the faith which Christians can profess and witness together, so that the world will believe, manifesting, with the desire and commitment to overcome existing differences, the will to walk toward full communion, the unity of the Body of Christ. The celebration of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity leads us to consider other important aspects for ecumenism -- above all, the great progress made in relations between Churches and ecclesial communities after the Edinburgh Conference of a century ago. The modern ecumenical movement has developed so significantly that, over the last century, it has become an important element in the life of the Church, recalling the problem of union among all Christians and also supporting the growth of communion among them. This not only favors fraternal relations between the Churches and ecclesial communities in response to the commandment of love, but it also stimulates theological research. Moreover, it involves the concrete life of the Churches and of the ecclesial communities with topics that touch upon pastoral care and the sacramental life as, for example, the mutual recognition of baptism, the issues relating to mixed marriages, the partial cases of comunicatio in sacris in well-defined particular situations. In the wake of this ecumenical spirit, contacts have spread also to Pentecostal, evangelical and charismatic movements, for greater reciprocal knowledge, though serious problems are not lacking in this sector. Since Vatican II and thereafter, the Catholic Church has entered into fraternal relations with all the Churches of the East and the ecclesial communities of the West, organizing, in particular, with the majority of them, bilateral theological dialogues, which have led to the finding of convergences and even consensus on several points, thus deepening the bonds of communion. In the year that just ended, these dialogues have achieved positive steps. With the Orthodox Churches, the Mixed International Commission for Theological Dialogue has begun, in the 11th Plenary Session held in Paphos (Cyprus) in October of 2009, the study of a crucial topic in the dialogue between Catholics and Orthodox: the role of the Bishop of Rome in the communion of the Church in the first millennium, that is to say, at the time in which Christians of the East and West lived in full communion. This study will be extended later to the second millennium. I have already asked Catholics many times for prayer for this delicate and essential dialogue for the whole ecumenical movement. Also with the Ancient Orthodox Churches of the East (Coptic, Ethiopian, Syrian, Armenian), the similar Mixed Commission met from the 26th to the 30th of January of last year. These important initiatives attest that at present there is a profound dialogue rich in hopes with all the Churches of the East not in full communion with Rome, in their own specificity. Examined during last year, with the ecclesial communities of the West, were the results reached in the different dialogues over the past 40 years, reflecting in particular on those held with the Anglican Communion, with the World Lutheran Federation, with the World Alliance of Reformed Churches and with the World Methodist Council. In this regard, the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity made a study to see the points of convergence that have been reached in the respective bilateral dialogues, and to point out, at the same time, the remaining problems, about which a new phase of meeting will have to be initiated. Among the recent events, I would like to mention the commemoration of the 10th anniversary of the Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification, celebrated by Catholics and Lutherans together on Oct. 31, 2009; to stimulate the continuation of dialogue, as well as the visit to Rome of the archbishop of Canterbury, Doctor Rowan Williams, who has also held conversations on the particular situation in which the Anglican Communion finds itself. The common commitment to continue relations and dialogue are a positive sign, which manifest how intense the desire for unity is, despite all the problems that oppose it. Thus we see that there is a dimension of our responsibility to do everything possible to really attain unity, but that there is another dimension, that of divine action, because only God can give unity to the Church. A "self-made" unity would be human, but we want the Church of God, made by God, who -- when he wishes and when we are prepared -- will create unity. We must also keep in mind the real progress reached in collaboration and fraternity in all these years, [and] in these last 50 years. At the same time, we must know that the ecumenical endeavor is not a lineal process. In fact, old problems, born in the context of another time, lose their weight, while in the present context new problems and new difficulties arise. Therefore, we must always be ready for a process of purification, in which the Lord will make us capable of being united. Dear brothers and sisters, because of the complex ecumenical reality, because of the promotion of dialogue, and also so that Christians of our time can give a new common witness of fidelity to Christ before this world of ours, I ask for everyone's prayer. May the Lord hear our invocation and that of all Christians, which in this week is raised to him with particular intensity.[Translation by ZENIT] [At the end of the audience, the Pope greeted the people in several languages. In English, he said:] Dear Brothers and Sisters, Today's Audience takes place during the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, when the Lord's followers are asked to reflect on the tragedy of their divisions and to pray with him "that they may all be one ... that the world may believe" (cf. Jn 17:21). The theme chosen for this year -- "You are witnesses of these things" (Lk 24:48) -- brings out this close bond between Christian unity and evangelization. This was a major concern of the Edinburgh Conference, which marked the beginning of the modern ecumenical movement one hundred years ago. Today's increasingly secularized society urgently requires a united witness to Jesus Christ grounded in a common profession of faith, as well as fraternal cooperation between separated Christians, dialogue and deeper reflection on the points of continuing divergence. During this Week I ask all of you to join me in praying for these intentions, in thanking God for the ecumenical progress made in the past year, and in asking that Christians of our time, by growing in unity, may offer an ever more convincing witness to the Risen Lord. I extend warm greetings to all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors here today, especially to the groups from Sweden, South Korea and the United States of America. In this Week of Prayer for Christian Unity it is a particular joy to welcome the members of the Continuation Committee of Ecumenism in the Twenty-first Century. Upon all of you and your families I cordially invoke God's abundant blessings.©Copyright 2010 - Libreria Editrice Vaticana

"Train a child in the way he should go..."

Ok, so I hacked in to Charleston's blog to post a few pictures of my own. Charleston, we miss you and can not wait to see you tomorrow night! Here are some pictures of Gus praying for your safe trip home. love, malacy

War: Democratization's Friend or Formidable Foe?

Who could forget Edwin Starr's intense Motown hit War, with its refrain "War...good god y'all, what is it good for? Absolutely nothing, nothing! Say it again y'all?"

A large focus of our course was to ask the question of how wars actually created the modern British State, especially its welfare system. Of course, Britain is not alone; wars have shaped all modern nations. I'd like to share with you just a little overview of how wars, not the Church, have shaped the British State since the so called "Glorious Revolution," the point in history when the Church's influence began to be suppressed.

War: Democratization's Friend or Formidable Foe?

The annals of history are replete (ad nauseam) with, as St. Matthew would have it, "wars and rumors of wars," and indeed, albeit surprisingly and perhaps lamentably, most modern social systems (i.e., democratic nations) are to a large degree direct bi-products of warmongering. This is what Charles Tilly, the late sociologist, means when he claims that "war made the state, and state made the war." That is, many democratic ideals, often ignored as inalienable rights to the modern citizen's mind, were born in and from conflict and prolonged strife. Over the last four hundred years Great Britain, with her ever-broadening government and struggle for democratic socialism, is certainly no exception, for she has been at war more than a dozen times since 1689.[1] These wars, predictably of course, produced sweeping changes in the everyday lives of her citizens; however, some were actually exceptionally efficacious. "One consequence of European warfare from the Renaissance to World War II was an increase in the size and power of the central governments," says Bruce Porter.[2] And with this "size and power" governments can, when properly developed, swiftly come to the aid of her citizenry. After all, who can deny that healthcare, education, defense, and clean water are bad things, no matter how they emerged?

War and its emotional baggage is no stranger to the British state. It can even be said that if there is any cohesive binding that truly encapsulates modern British history, then warfare must be that agent. Wars, historically speaking, are ubiquitous to the British psyche. The pressing question, however, is not whether or not war is a fundamental part of British cultural identity, but whether these wars are actually, as Deborah Dwork's capricious title suggests, "Good for Babies and Other Young Children?" Could it be that one of life's most dreaded events, one that has notoriously been called "hell" by its most vehement detractors and even claimed millions of innocent lives, actually be a viable raison d'être for the polity of the modern democratic state?

Despite what Porter calls, "a reluctance to confront the military lineage of the modern state,"[3] there are more than a few reasons why Dwork's hypothesis may in fact be the case.

Consider the rise of the modern British State, its social services and ever-growing government sector. At the dawn of the sixteenth century, English citizenry were only somewhat, that is loosely, entitled to one state-sponsored benefice: some kind of protection from invading armies. Even this "protection" often failed to actually secure the English people from being at risk from invading forces within and outside the realm. Otherwise, to speak of the state per se was to speak of the monarch and his or her political grip upon the their supposed and oft flaunted "god-given" dominion. It was not until the latter half of the eighteenth century that "the state" was "shorthand for the three branches of the central government - King, Lords, and Commons."[4] Even then, the state was restricted to what Phillip Harling calls a "Fiscal-Military State," which was characterized by "an age of imperial rivalry [that] ensured the traditional military function of the state would dominate all others."[5] Today, however, people speak of the British state not so much as a military empire in the strictest sense, but as a global, predictable, and democratic social unit providing a vast array of goods and services to all, even the "least", of her citizens. Bruce Porter describes a modern state as:
an apparatus of power, a set of institutions - the central government, the armed forces, the regulatory and police agencies - whose most important functions involve the use of force: the control of territory and the maintenance of internal order.[6]

To speak of the British State in modern parlance is to ponder state provided social security, national health care, education, and a host of other goods and services and simultaneously ask from whence it all came.[7] What a difference a few centuries makes! Though there are dozens of examples to accentuate the rise of the modern British state as one born out of the trenches of modern warfare, one way to make sense of it all is to consider the longterm consequences of just three hinge points of British history: the so called "Glorious Revolution," World War I, invariably dubbed The Great War that would end all wars, and World War II's Beveridge Report. Consider these epochs as proper litmus tests for Dwork's claim. Was war, despite its crude reputation, really good for democratization?

The so called "Glorious Revolution" was not a "bloodless revolution" as some history books would have it. This is a minor, but telling point. It was a deadly militaristic episode from its inception; William of Orange set sail for England with 15,000 men, who if need be would instantly kill at their leader's command.[8] Skirmishes in Scotland were deadly, and some rioting in rural hamlets saw bloodletting between acrimonious Catholics and Protestants as well. History would be foolish to forget that the militaristic overthrow of Catholic King James II was due only to Parliamentary support of the invading Dutch army, led by William of Orange. The entire episode, an effective coup de tête to be sure, is redolent with events, primarily armed in nature, that paved the way for the modern democratic British state to come into life. For it was in the seventeenth century that Parliament's ability to use force to get its way sowed the seeds for subsequent state services. And these services, ableit paltry in comparison to modern times, really first emerge in the form of militaristic means, or what Harling calls the "Fiscal-Military State." It was Parliament, after all, (say Parliament three times until it sticks) that actually invited, even begged, William to invade and usurp their own king's "god-given" power.

After William and Mary's ascendency to the throne, Parliament, by a host of measures, gained incredible strength and vigor, and that momentum, though it has been tested, has yet to be reversed in any real sense. Parliament, from the first days of its tangible strength, knew that wars were costly not only in terms of human losses, but also by all monetary measures. The most important aspect of Parliamentary strength of the era was the ability to levy taxes, which of course allowed the British to create the most nascent phases of what would later be the war machine of Great Britain's colonial expansion. Similarly, at the same time power quickly shifted from the King to King and Parliament assembled. No longer was one man making decisions and legislating solely from the vicissitudes of the crown, but now many, mostly landed gentry, could shape public policy and opinion. Harling reminds us, "by 1690, the only discretionary power that the king still enjoyed over the legislative actions of Parliament was the royal veto."[9] This is the birth of the modern British State. Without the Glorious Revolution, true democratic ideals (i.e., a sturdy and functioning Parliament heeding the vox populi) could have never been born on the British Isles.

Later, functioning again as that effecient "wartime bureaucracy," Parliament, according to Bruce Porter, would:
[Direct] the whole of [the] vast effort, using extraordinary, and often extralegal, wartime authority to tax, regulate, confiscate, ration, conscript, and otherwise mobilize the resources to wage the contest.[10]

World War I was such a time, yet when the war ended, the state's power and sway did not revert to pre-war levels. Instead, the exact opposite happened. The state, largely out of guilt for the thousands of widows and orphans that were a direct consequence of the war, felt, as Harling posits, "that social security was a right to which the state owed to its patriotic and longsuffering citizens" (italics mine).[11] After all, more than 1.6 million British soldiers were killed or wounded, and even simple logic dictates that someone must take care of them.[12] The state was to become that caretaker. More than caring for the "least among" them, the Great War tested the ceiling of government expenditure and involvement in the daily lives of its citizens. The citizens, by way of taxation no less, witnessed a four-fold increase in government spending during the war.[13] But after the war, British citizens did not abandon many of the government's grips on them. The Prime Minister of the day, controversial Lloyd George, saw fit to create four new government bureaus, "the Ministries of Labour, Shipping, Pensions, and Health."[14] Many average citizens saw that the government, those elected by them (well, at least most of them), could serve their interests, and they were subsequently willing to pay for it in the form of some of the highest taxes in Europe.

World War II, examined in terms of a slow march towards a welfare state, is World War I simply writ large. Harling reminds us:
By the late 1930s, the social services provided by central and local government in Britain were arguably more extensive than anywhere else in the world. But they were not nearly as extensive as they would become after World War II.[15]

Thanks largely to the ubiquitousness of the Beveridge Report coupled with the fact it was the polar opposite approach to government than the opposing nations, the social services provided to British citizens after World War II were certainly "more extensive" than ever before. Harling describes the Report as:
calling for full employment, a free national health service, family allowances, and the abolition of poverty through comprehensive social insurance with benefits to be paid as a statutory right.[16]

These clarion calls for "rights" were juxtapositioned amidst the backdrop of a nation's enquiries into how to deal with the consequences of economic turmoil and yet another long and painful war. The British answer was clear: give the state more power to provide social services, not just the ability to wage war effectively. And directly as a consequence of war, provide it did. Harling writes:
the goal [of post World War II governments] was to establish a decent minimum for all Britons that was more or less in line with the rising standard of living. Generally speaking the welfare state met that goal, and in doing so provided more services to far more citizens that the British state had ever done before.[17]

At the dawn of a new decade in the twenty-first century, Britain, perhaps more than ever and thanks chiefly to the hostility and fallout of wars, continues to extend its grip into the public sector. The image of the government reaching down is perhaps appropriate at this juncture.
All of this analysis leaves an obvious question lingering: can the modern British State and its apparent "march to utopia" be stopped, or at least slowed? Can it be rolled back in some fashion sans another full-blown war? Who would really want to reduce the state's place in modern Britain, save a few token Tories? Is it even fair to compose these queries? Alas, these are all very valid questions to ask as post-modernity, especially as more socialist nations continue to demand more goods and services from their governments. But can the state really continue to grow, or has it reached its apex? Some, of course, would say it certainly has. Nevertheless in the end analysis, make no mistake, Tilly's claim coupled with Dwork's conjecture, stands with solid fortitude and great might, much like the social democracy of the United Kingdom itself. The state does, after all, offer British citizens a good shot at becoming and staying "healthy, wealthy, and wise." And this, even it means an occasional war or two, could never be a bad thing.
[1] Harling, Phillip 41
[2] Porter 2
[3] Porter XIX
[4] Harling 11
[5] Harling 218
[6] Porter, p. 6
[7] Harling, p. 222
[8] Harling, p. 14
[9] Harling, p. 13
[10] Porter, p. 2
[11] Harling, p. 220
[12] Harling, p. 134
[13] Harling, p. 134
[14] Harling, p. 138
[15] Harling, p. 154
[16] Harling, p. 155
[17] Harling, p. 174

From the Daily Office

Psalm 31 In te, Domine, speravi
1
In you, O LORD, have I taken refuge;let me never be put to shame; *deliver me in your righteousness.
2
Incline your ear to me; *make haste to deliver me.
3
Be my strong rock, a castle to keep me safe,for you are my crag and my stronghold; *for the sake of your Name, lead me and guide me.
4
Take me out of the net that they have secretly set for me, *for you are my tower of strength.
5
Into your hands I commend my spirit, *for you have redeemed me,O LORD, O God of truth.
6
I hate those who cling to worthless idols, *and I put my trust in the LORD.
7
I will rejoice and be glad because of your mercy; *for you have seen my affliction;you know my distress.
8
You have not shut me up in the power of the enemy; *you have set my feet in an open place.
9
Have mercy on me, O LORD, for I am in trouble; *my eye is consumed with sorrow,and also my throat and my belly.
10
For my life is wasted with grief,and my years with sighing; *my strength fails me because of affliction,and my bones are consumed.
11
I have become a reproach to all my enemies and even to my neighbors,a dismay to those of my acquaintance; *when they see me in the street they avoid me.
12
I am forgotten like a dead man, out of mind; *I am as useless as a broken pot.
13
For I have heard the whispering of the crowd;fear is all around; *they put their heads together against me;they plot to take my life.
14
But as for me, I have trusted in you, O LORD. *I have said, "You are my God.
15
My times are in your hand; *rescue me from the hand of my enemies,and from those who persecute me.
16
Make your face to shine upon your servant, *and in your loving-kindness save me."
17
LORD, let me not be ashamed for having called upon you; *rather, let the wicked be put to shame;let them be silent in the grave.
18
Let the lying lips be silenced which speak against the righteous, *haughtily, disdainfully, and with contempt.
19
How great is your goodness, O LORD!which you have laid up for those who fear you; *which you have done in the sight of allfor those who put their trust in you.
20
You hide them in the covert of your presence from those who slander them; *you keep them in your shelter from the strife of tongues.
21
Blessed be the LORD! *for he has shown me the wonders of his love in a besieged city.
22
Yet I said in my alarm,"I have been cut off from the sight of your eyes." *Nevertheless, you heard the sound of my entreatywhen I cried out to you.
23
Love the LORD, all you who worship him; *the LORD protects the faithful,but repays to the full those who act haughtily.
24
Be strong and let your heart take courage, *all you who wait for the LORD.

All Souls Langham Place: Pulpit for the Protestant Pope

John Robert Walmsley Stott, rector emeritus, All Souls Langham Place, served here for over forty years. The New York Times famously ran a piece on his life back in 2004 and said, "If evangelicals could elect a pope, Stott is the person they would likely choose." A prolific author, Stott has penned more than fifty books, one in which he controversially breaks with his evangelical brethren and questions the traditional understanding of hell. In 2008 he published The Anglican Evangelical Doctrine of Infant Baptism, which I'm told is the twenty-first century equivalent of J.C. Ryle's nineteenth century opus.

Amidst the turmoil in Haiti, say it ain't so!

A quote from Pat Robertson, host of the popular 700 Club:

"They were under the heel of the French, you know Napoleon the third and whatever. And they got together and swore a pact to the devil. They said 'We will serve you if you will get us free from the prince.' True story. And so the devil said, 'OK it’s a deal.' And they kicked the French out. The Haitians revolted and got something themselves free. But ever since they have been cursed by one thing after another," Robertson said.

Well, that clears things up; the Haitians made a pact with Satan...cause we know colonialism was all good for Haiti. NOT!

I pray that people like Robertson will have their eyes opened, and be prompted to great acts of compassion instead of great acts of stupidity.

For my dear Methodist brothers and sisters in the Faith...

Our class was walking from the Museam of London down to the Bank of England on Aldersgate Street and something kept nagging at me internally. I just knew my professors had said something about Aldersgate Street. To myself I kept saying, "okay, there is something important that happened on this street....maybe not Charleston...you've seen a ton of 'important' things over the last few weeks...." Then the London fog cleared and I saw it: the site of John Wesley's conversion to evangelicalism at the Moravian Meetinghouse. Later, Wesley's worlds would become often quoted:

In the evening I went unwillingly to a society in Aldersgate Street, where one was reading Luther's preface to the Epistle to the Romans. About a quarter to nine, while he was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone for salvation, and an assurance was given me that he had taken away my sins, even mine and saved me from the law of sin and death..

Enjoy!

On the Lighter (quickly turning heavier) Side...

As most of you know, food is in my blood - literally, historically with my father's side of the family, and figuratively when you ponder my early adult life. Though I sold Jinsei, I still manage to stay in the industry through consulting and purveying fine wine. So being in London, where restaurants have made such great strides in the last decade, is a great blessing.

Tonight that blessing may have reached its apex. A friend in Birmingham, Frank Stitt, sent me to the U.K. with a list of places he'd recently searched out and enjoyed. I've basically been following his list, and tonight I chose the Ledbury up round Kennsington Palace.

So what was my dinner? Okay, hold on to your treadmills -

Raviolo of Potato and Egg Yolk with Black Truffle, Onions Cooked in White Beer and Grated Vacherin

Snails in Mousseline of Herbs with White Carrots, Cepe Marmalade, and Roasted Oxtail Jus

Shoulder of Pyrenean Milk Fed Lamb with Baked Jerusalem Artichokes and Winter Savory Milk

Passionfruit Souffle

Not only was the cuisine superb, but the hospitality was first rate. I glanced at one other dessert, and the manager brought it to me free of charge just to compare with the souffle!

Now I know my meal was world class - far beyond what I deserve or need - so just imagine with me for a moment that heavenly feast, the one where the lions and lambs will join one another, set aside their pasts, and join all the Saints in eternally praising our Heavenly Father?

Cheers!

So this has to be a famous church....right?

Guess again, and think deeply why the British government would choose this style for the Royal Courts of Justice headquarters in London? Specifically, why would a nation want to use an architecture most commonly associated with the Church? Couldn't they just pick some random post-modern brutalist form of architecture instead, or is there something more here? What sort of ultimate encounter were the designers envisioning in this sacred space?

Our class heard two appellate arguments: one surrounding the release of an African national accused of supporting Mugabe and the other case was an appeal from a mentally challenged woman who was convicted of murdering her infant by strangulation.

Not exactly a really uplifting morning, but no matter how empty the glass may seem we must remember our Lord's words, "Come unto me all ye who travail and are heavy laden and I will give you rest." May He comfort all those who face trials, whether they're guilty or not, for He came into the world to save sinners - all of them!

Pax to all of you,

Search Your Own Backyard!

When visiting foreign cities - as a rule of thumb - I always vow to explore my own backyard, so to speak. Nine out of ten times I know my surroundings quite well; however, this evening on my way to dinner I was completely taken aback. Guess whose parish is less than fifty yards from my own window? If I said the church of the famed American poet extraordinaire and expat-turned-British-Anglo-Catholic, T.S. Eliot, was just down the way - would you believe me? Please do, for Eliot was a devoted attendee at St. Stephens Gloucester Road in Southwest London. He even served as a faithful vestryman of St. Stephens for twenty-five years.

Knowing his way with words, the vestry asked Eliot once to deliver a panegyric that would later appear in their parish newsletter in the fifties. Here's what he said (he's offering every priest's dream description isn't he!?):

...As a preacher, too, he was very effective: his sermons had a beginning, a middle and an end. They always gave the impression of having been thought out for that particular congregation and for that particular occasion; and one always had the feeling of being the man in the pew—the man or woman——to whom he was talking. With devotion to Catholic doctrine and Catholic observance, he combined true evangelical zeal.

Though Eliot is certainly best known for other works, anytime I feel like I can't explain my feelings I quickly recall The Love Story of J. Alfred Prufrock, which always makes the Wilson household smile!

_______________________________________

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.


LET us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherised upon a table;

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats
5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question …
10
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

Let us go and make our visit.


In the room the women come and go

Talking of Michelangelo.


The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
15
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes

Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,

Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,

Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,

Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
20
And seeing that it was a soft October night,

Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.


And indeed there will be time

For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,

Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
25
There will be time, there will be time

To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;

There will be time to murder and create,

And time for all the works and days of hands

That lift and drop a question on your plate;
30
Time for you and time for me,

And time yet for a hundred indecisions,

And for a hundred visions and revisions,

Before the taking of a toast and tea.


In the room the women come and go
35
Talking of Michelangelo.


And indeed there will be time

To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”

Time to turn back and descend the stair,

With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
40
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]

My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,

My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—

[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]

Do I dare
45
Disturb the universe?

In a minute there is time

For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.


For I have known them all already, known them all:—

Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
50
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;

I know the voices dying with a dying fall

Beneath the music from a farther room.

So how should I presume?


And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
55
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,

And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,

When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,

Then how should I begin

To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
60
And how should I presume?


And I have known the arms already, known them all—

Arms that are braceleted and white and bare

[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]

It is perfume from a dress
65
That makes me so digress?

Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.

And should I then presume?

And how should I begin? . . . . .

Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
70
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes

Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…


I should have been a pair of ragged claws

Scuttling across the floors of silent seas. . . . . .

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
75
Smoothed by long fingers,

Asleep … tired … or it malingers,

Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.

Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,

Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
80
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,

Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,

I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;

I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,

And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
85
And in short, I was afraid.


And would it have been worth it, after all,

After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,

Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,

Would it have been worth while,
90
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,

To have squeezed the universe into a ball

To roll it toward some overwhelming question,

To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,

Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
95
If one, settling a pillow by her head,

Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.

That is not it, at all.”


And would it have been worth it, after all,

Would it have been worth while,
100
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,

After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—

And this, and so much more?—

It is impossible to say just what I mean!

But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
105
Would it have been worth while

If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,

And turning toward the window, should say:

“That is not it at all,

That is not what I meant, at all.” . . . . .
110
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;

Am an attendant lord, one that will do

To swell a progress, start a scene or two,

Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,

Deferential, glad to be of use,
115
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;

Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;

At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—

Almost, at times, the Fool.


I grow old … I grow old …
120
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.


Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.


I do not think that they will sing to me.
125

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves

Combing the white hair of the waves blown back

When the wind blows the water white and black.


We have lingered in the chambers of the sea

By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
130
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

Britain's Best Bookstore: Blackwell's Oxford

Don't let the facade fool you; downstairs has literally miles of shelving. The theology section is first rate! Malacy told me not to come home with more books, so I've got some explaining to do.

Church of St. Mary the Virgin, Oxford

Perhaps the University Church of St. Mary the Virgin, Oxford, is the most interesting parish in all of the Anglican Communion? You ask how is it more important than St. Paul's and the Abbey down in London? Ponder these facts and reconsider its place in the annals of Christian history.

1. Latimer, Ridley, and Cranmer were all tried here before Mary Tudor had them burned at the stake.

2. John Wesley, in his early days as a priest, preached some of his most stirring sermons here. 'Almost Christian' was so stirring that he was never invited back!

3. John Henry Newman was vicar here in 1828.

4. From its present pulpit, John Keble preached his famous 'Assize Sermon,' which is now regarded as the official beginning of the Oxford Movement. Thank God for Keble and his witness to the Church. It is the zeal of the likes of Keble and Newman that Anglo-Catholicism must reclaim and propagate in an increasingly skeptical post-modern world.

'Sign of the Cross' by J.H. Newman

Whilst in Oxford today, I came across this gem of a poem by John Henry Newman. Is surely makes one ponder what can happen when making the Sign of the Cross!

WHENE’ER across this sinful flesh of mine I draw the Holy Sign, All good thoughts stir within me, and renew Their slumbering strength divine;

Till there springs up a courage high and true

To suffer and to do. And who shall say, but hateful spirits around, For their brief hour

unbound, Shudder to see, and wail their overthrow?

While on far heathen ground

Some lonely Saint hails the fresh odor, though Its source he cannot know.

I'm Not Alone: My Dear Professor Shares His Plight!

I just got this e-mail from one of my dear professors back in the States who was trying to get back to the USA in the same weather in which I was trying to get to Walsingham. After having read of my own misery, Dr. Kenneth B.E. Roxburgh, a lovely Scottish genteleman (think of the opposite of the likes of PM Gordon Brown!), sent me this story:

Charleston,

I was sorry to read your news of the failed trip to Walsingham. Gwen and I have suffered from the weather - I made it out of Heathrow on 6 January on a flight with Delta that should have gone from Gatwick. They bussed us over to Heathrow in the bad weather you arrived in. Gwen's flight was cancelled from Terminal 5 - she was bussed back to Edinburgh after a four hour wait on the runway, waiting for a gate to open up. She finally flew home on Thursday, over a week late, her luggage have been lost for 6 days in between. The joys of travel....

On my return to BHM, I hit the curb in Oxford and lost a tire as well on my way in for a coffee at Starbucks.....a fellow soul traveller.....it ended up being the dearest coffee I have bought in a few years.

Hope the A materialises. Give my best to Fred Shepherd.

Ken R.

N.B. I don't know if I have the heart to tell Dr. Roxy that our Professor here, the 'Fred Shepherd' to which he referred, actually has the worst story of all. His flight to London's Gatwick was diverted to Scotland without announcement from the captain! They were given nothing; no money, no love note, no bus ticket....nothing at all! Just think if you were penniless and traveling with a small child. At least Fr. Roxy and I had money for coffee, although I must confess I was looking for something a tad stronger than caffeine.

Miraculum Orbis and La Perennité Britannique: Welcome to Westminster Abbey

Richard Jenkyns, a prominent historian, boldly declares, "Westminster Abbey is the most complex church in the world in terms of its history, functions, and memories - perhaps the most complex building of any kind." Indeed, the Abbey is one the high places of British culture and a perennial bright spot of Anglican patrimony, yet paradoxically the Abbey houses a Roman Saint and the principals of Presbyterianism were hammered out within her walls! Parliament even met at the Abbey for a couple of centuries. Most importantly, even today the Abbey is a daily and living place of worship. Just ponder how many souls have been fed in this magnificent space?

Despite the hustle and bustle of the tourists clinging and clanging there way through, I find the Abbey to be somewhat of a foretaste of heaven. I don't just mean the style, though I do love it. I mean if Mary Tudor and Elizabeth can lie just next to one another, both redeemed by God's mercy and love, then imagine heaven when we all - sinners from the womb - receive that true crown of glory that will never fade!

Historically speaking, the church was consecrated in 1065. Unfortunately for its patron, King Edward, after the Battle of Hastings William the Conqueror had himself crowned in the Abbey in 1066.

From their own website:
The present building dates mainly from the reign of King Henry III. In 1245 he pulled down the eastern part of the 11th century Abbey, which had been founded by King Edward the Confessor and dedicated in 1065. Earlier in Henry's reign, on 16 May 1220, he had laid the foundation stone for a new Lady Chapel at the east end of the Confessor's church, but as the Abbey's own financial resources were not sufficient to continue the rebuilding of the whole church at this time no other work was carried out.
It is said that Henry's devotion to St Edward later prompted him to build a more magnificent church in the newest Gothic style, and also to provide a new shrine for the Saint, near to whom Henry himself could be buried. The three master masons supervising the work were Henry of Reyns, John of Gloucester and Robert of Beverley. It is not known if Henry was English or French but the architect was greatly influenced by the new cathedrals at Reims, Amiens and Chartres, borrowing the ideas of an apse with radiating chapels and using the characteristic Gothic features of pointed arches, ribbed vaulting, rose windows and flying buttresses. The design is based on the continental system of geometrical proportion, but its English features include single rather than double aisles and a long nave with wide projecting transepts. The Abbey has the highest Gothic vault in England (nearly 102 feet) and it was made to seem higher by making the aisles narrow. The Englishness is also apparent in the elaborate mouldings of the main arches, the lavish use of polished Purbeck marble for the columns and the overall sculptural decoration. The east-west axis was determined by the existing position of the Lady Chapel.
A spacious area between the high altar and the beginning of the quire was necessary to provide a ‘theatre’ where coronations could take place. The stonework (which came from Caen in France and Reigate in Surrey), the sculptured roof bosses and the other carvings would have been brightly coloured and the wall arcades may have been decorated in vermilion and gold. The walls were adorned with fine paintings, and two, depicting St Thomas and St Christopher, were rediscovered in the 1930s. Some of the original colour on the censing angels in the south transept was discovered at about the same time. Brilliant ruby and sapphire glass, with heraldic shields set in a grisaille (or grey monochrome) pattern, filled the windows. The chapel screens and tombs added to the display of colour. By 1269 the apse, radiating chapels, transepts and choir were complete and the new shrine received the bones of St Edward on 13 October.
When Henry III died in 1272 only one bay of the nave beyond the choir screen had been completed. The old Norman nave remained attached to the far higher Gothic building for over a century until more money became available at the end of the fourteenth century. The western section of the nave was then carried on by Abbot Nicholas Litlyngton using money bequeathed by Cardinal Simon Langham (Litlyngton’s predecessor as abbot) and work slowly progressed for nearly a hundred and fifty years. It was probably Litlyngton who insisted that the general design of Henry III's masons should be followed thus giving the Abbey great architectural unity. Master mason Henry Yevele made only minor alterations in the architectural design but it can be seen on closer inspection that the diaper (or rosette) decoration on the spandrels of the arches was discontinued in the nave, and other details are not as elaborate as the older work. In the bay of the nave just to the west of the quire screen can be seen the junction of the old and new work.
In 1422 Henry V was buried at the eastern end of St Edward’s Chapel. In accordance with his will a lavishly sculptured chantry chapel was built over the tomb, with two turret staircases leading to an altar above. The designer was John Thirske, who was probably also responsible for the carved altar screen in the Confessor's chapel added at this period, showing representations of events in the life of St Edward. Abbot John Islip, died 1532, added his own Jesus chapel off the north ambulatory and finally completed the nave vaulting and glazed the west window, but the top parts of the west towers remained unfinished.
The next great addition to the Abbey was the construction of a magnificent new Lady Chapel by Henry VII between 1503 and 1519 to replace the 13th century chapel. The Perpendicular architecture here is in total contrast to the rest of the Abbey. No accounts for this building have been found but it is thought that the architects were Robert Janyns and William Vertue. It has been called "one of the most perfect buildings ever erected in England" and "the wonder of the world". Henry spent lavish sums on its decoration. The glory of the chapel is its delicately carved fan vaulted roof, with hanging pendants. These are constructed on half-concealed transverse arches. All around the chapel are Tudor emblems such as the rose and portcullis, and nearly one hundred statues of saints still remain in niches around the walls. The original jewel-like stained glass by Bernard Flower has, however, disappeared.
The last phase of building was the completion in 1745 of the West Towers in Portland stone, to a design by Nicholas Hawksmoor, the Abbey's Surveyor.
2. Architecturally the Abbey is French Gothic, being eerily similar to Rheims Cathedral in France. The essence of being "French" is its soaring height as a ratio compared to its width. The Abbey's nave is the highest of any medieval church.

3. Famous people associated with the Abbey:
The following list of people buried or commemorated in Westminster Abbey.

A - D
Adam, Robert Adam
Addison, Joseph Addison
André, John André
Atkyns, Edward and Robert Atkyns
Atterbury, Francis Atterbury
Ayton, Robert Ayton
Baden-Powell, Robert & Olave Baden-Powell
Baker, John Baker
Barrell, William Barrell
Bayne, William Bayne
Beaufort, Margaret Beaufort
Beaufoy, Mary Beaufoy
Behn, Aphra Behn
Bill, William Bill
Blair, William Blair
Blake, Robert Blake
Blake, William Blake
Blakeney, William Blakeney
Blow, John Blow
Bohun, Eleanor de Bohun
Bonhoeffer, Dietrich Bonhoeffer
Bowes, Mary Eleanor Bowes
Bradshaw, John Bradshaw
Brandon, Frances Brandon
Brocas, Sir Bernard Brocas
Bromley, Sir Thomas Bromley
Broughton, John Broughton
Browning, Robert Browning
Brunel, Isambard Kingdom Brunel
Buckland, William Buckland
Burdett-Coutts, Angela Burdett-Coutts
Burgoyne, John Burgoyne
Burney, Frances Burney
Burns, Robert Burns
Busby, Richard Busby
Buxton, Thomas Fowell Buxton
C, Civilian War Dead Roll of Honour 1939 - 1945
C, Combined Services Memorial
Camden, William Camden
Canning, Geo, Charles & Stratford Canning
Carey, Henry Carey
Carey, William Carey
Carroll, Lewis Carroll
Cavendish, William & Margaret Cavendish
Chaucer, Geoffrey Chaucer
Chiffinch, Thomas Chiffinch
Churchill, Sir Winston Churchill
Clarkson, Thomas Clarkson
Clementi, Muzio Clementi
Cochrane, Thomas Cochrane
Coote, Eyre Coote
Cottington, Francis Cottington
Cottrell, Clement Cottrell
Courcy, Almericus de Courcy
Coxe, Sir Richard Coxe
Craggs, James Craggs
Cromwell, Oliver Cromwell
Darwin, Charles Darwin
Daubeney, Giles Daubeney
Dickens, Charles Dickens
Dirac, Paul Dirac
Douglas, Margaret Douglas, Countess of Lennox
E - H (back on top)
Elizabeth, Grand Duchess Elizabeth
F, Freke sisters
Fane, Elizabeth Fane
Fawcett, Henry and Millicent Fawcett
Folkes, Martin Folkes
Follett, William Webb Follett
Fox, Charles James Fox
Franklin, Sir John Franklin
Fullerton, James Fullerton
Garrick, David Garrick
Gay, John Gay
Gethin, Grace Gethin
Goodman, Gabriel Goodman
Gordon, Adam Lindsay Gordon
Graham, George Graham
Griffith, Piers Griffith
Grote, George Grote
Handel, George Frederic Handel
Hardy, Thomas Hardy
Harrison, John Harrison
Harvey, John Harvey
Herschel, William & John Herschel
Hesketh, Sir Thomas Hesketh
Hill, Rowland Hill
Hooke, Robert Hooke
Horrocks, Jeremiah Horrocks
Howe, George Howe
Hunter, John Hunter
Hutt, John Hutt
I - L (back on top)
Ireland, John Ireland
Irving, Sir Henry Irving
J, John of Eltham
John, Esther John
Johnson, Samuel Johnson
Jonson, Ben Jonson
Julius, William Julius
Keats, John Keats
Kelvin, William Thomson, Lord Kelvin
King, Martin Luther King
Kipling, Rudyard Kipling
Knipe, Thomas Knipe
Knollys, Katherine Knollys
Kolbe, Maximilian Kolbe
Livingstone, David Livingstone
Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Loten, John Gideon Loten
Ludlow, Philip Ludlow
Luwum, Janani Luwum
Lyell, Charles Lyell
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton
M - P (back on top)
Macaulay, Zachary Macaulay
Macaulay, Thomas Babington Macaulay
Malcolm, Sir John Malcolm
Manners, Lord Robert Manners
Mansfield, William Murray, Lord Mansfield
Masemola, Manche Masemola
May, Thomas May
Mead, Richard Mead
Methuen, John and Paul Methuen
Milton, John Milton
Monck, George and Nicholas Monck
Neve, Richard Le Neve
Newton, Sir Isaac Newton
Nightingale, Lady Elizabeth Nightingale
Norris, Henry, Lord Norris
Ogle, John Ogle
Oswald, James Oswald
Outram, Sir James Outram
Owen, Thomas Owen
O’Keeffe, Arthur O’Keeffe
P, Poets of the First World War
Paoli, Pasquale Paoli
Parr, Thomas Parr
Pecksall, Richard Pecksall
Pitt, William Pitt
Pollock, George Pollock
Pringle, Sir John Pringle
Purcell, Henry Purcell
Q - T (back on top)
Raffles, Stamford Raffles
Richardson, Thomas Richardson
Romero, Oscar Romero
Rowe, Nicholas Rowe
Rupert, Prince Rupert
Rutherford, Ernest Rutherford
Saunders, Sir Charles Saunders
Scott, George Gilbert Scott
Shakespeare, William Shakespeare
Sharp, Granville Sharp
Shelley, Percy Bysshe Shelley
Sheridan, Richard Brinsley Sheridan
Shovell, Sir Clowdisley Shovell
Siddons, Sarah Siddons
Spelman, Henry Spelman
Spenser, Edmund Spenser
Spottiswood, John Spottiswood
Spottiswood, William Spottiswood
Spottiswood, James Spottiswood
Spragge, Edward Spragge
Sprat, Thomas Sprat
Stanley, Arthur & Augusta Stanley
Stephenson, Robert Stephenson
Stokes, George Gabriel Stokes
Street, George Edmund Street
Stuart, Frances Teresa Stuart
Talbot, Edward Talbot
Tapiedi, Lucian Tapiedi
Telford, Thomas Telford
Tennyson, Lord Alfred Tennyson
Thomson, William Thomson, Lord Kelvin
Thorndyke, John Thorndyke
Thorndyke, Herbert Thorndyke
Thynne, Thomas Thynne
Trenchard, Hugh Trenchard
Trevithick, Richard Trevithick
Trigge, Thomas Trigge
Triplet, Thomas Triplet
Tyrrell, Richard Tyrrell
U - Z (back on top)
U, Unknown Warrior
Ussher, James Ussher
Valence, William and Aymer de Valence
Vere, Sir Francis Vere and Horace Vere
Vernon, Edward Vernon
Wade, George Wade
Wager, Charles Wager
Wallace, Alfred Russel Wallace
Warren, Sir Peter Warren
Watt, James Watt
Wesley, John Wesley, Charles Wesley
Whittle, Frank Whittle
Wilberforce, William Wilberforce
Wilcocks, Joseph Wilcocks
Wolfe, James Wolfe
Woodward, John Woodward
Wragg, William Wragg
Wright, James Wright
Young, Thomas Young
Zhiming, Wang Zhiming

4. Henry VII's Chapel: Perhaps the most striking and holiest place in all of the Abbey is Henry VII's Lady Chapel, added at the east end in 1503. Washington Irving considered it magical. He said:

The very walls are wrought into universal ornament, encrusted with tracery, and scooped into niches, crowded with statues of saints and martyrs. Stone seems, but the cunning labour of the chisel, to have been robbed of its weight and density, suspended aloft, as if by magic, and fretted roof achieved with the wonderful minuteness and airy security of a cobweb.

5. Famed Roman Catholic architect and theorist Augustus Welby Northmore Pugin (think architecture of Parliament) once compared the Abbey, which is officially called The Collegiate Church of St Peter at Westminster, to St. Peter's Basilica in the Vatican. Pugin said:

It is surprising how this edifice [St. Peter's, Rome] is popularly regarded as the ne plus ultra of a Catholic church, although as a Christian edifice it is by no means comparable to either St. Peter's of York or St. Peter's of Westminster, in both of which churches every original detail and emblem is of the purest Christian design, and not one arrangement or feature borrowed from pagan antiquity; and although these glorious piles have been woefully desecrated and shorn of more than half their original beauty, they yet produce stronger feelings of religious awe than their namesake at Rome, still in the zenith of its glory, with all its mosaics, gilding, and marbles.

As you might suspect, Pugin believed only in Gothic styles. He wasn't fond of the "pagan impulse" evident in Classical forms of church architecture.

Of course one could say that we are free to worship Almighty God under a rock, in a simple tent, or even an auditorium, and that's certainly true. But with Gothic ideals being such a Christian gift to the world, why would we purposely choose anything else?