As in most enterprises, there is a host of anonymous supporters who will never be given public recogniton. Many of them like it that way, because it is of their character to be both generous and humble. But sometimes we are privileged to meet them face to face. On this occasion, their names are Zac and Liz, along with their three lovely children and their congregation. They live in London and serve CVM and its mission work as a home of hospitality for those in transit to and from The Gambia. We were blessed to be welcomed so warmly and offered the comforts of food and rest.
Three hours sleep on our trans-Alantic flight and a full English breakfast were enough of an energy-pak to sustain us for the day at the British Museum. Once there, we spent most of our time in the Ancient Near East section, the world of Glen Taylor's expertise. While Glen was overjoyed to enlighten us on all things semitic--including the Akkadian language (the lingua franca of the ancient near eastern world)--I was rewarded enough just to lay my eyes on artifacts like the Rosetta Stone that I had seen only in my seminary textbooks.A real highlight for me was meeting face to face--well, sort of--an ancient cousin, a few thousand times removed no doubt. He is presently a quite well preserved Egyptian mummy whose birth certificate dates him at approximately 3500 BC.
All this triggered for me a cascade of reflections on the meaning of life, time, and the transiency of power.. As I stared at my human bother, studied the grand symbols that chronicled the ancient empires of Assyria, Bablon and Persia, I thought this: life passes through the shifting sands of time, empires rise and fall, but it is grounded in something much firmer. As I write this, we are flying over that small piece of water which separates Europe and Africa, and that small but sturdy landmark called the Rock of Gibraltar.
Oh yes, I recalled another moment in the life of the Bristish Museum. It was here more than 150 years ago that Karl Marx spent most of his life writing what became the manifesto for empire builders of the 20th century.
David
Three hours sleep on our trans-Alantic flight and a full English breakfast were enough of an energy-pak to sustain us for the day at the British Museum. Once there, we spent most of our time in the Ancient Near East section, the world of Glen Taylor's expertise. While Glen was overjoyed to enlighten us on all things semitic--including the Akkadian language (the lingua franca of the ancient near eastern world)--I was rewarded enough just to lay my eyes on artifacts like the Rosetta Stone that I had seen only in my seminary textbooks.A real highlight for me was meeting face to face--well, sort of--an ancient cousin, a few thousand times removed no doubt. He is presently a quite well preserved Egyptian mummy whose birth certificate dates him at approximately 3500 BC.
All this triggered for me a cascade of reflections on the meaning of life, time, and the transiency of power.. As I stared at my human bother, studied the grand symbols that chronicled the ancient empires of Assyria, Bablon and Persia, I thought this: life passes through the shifting sands of time, empires rise and fall, but it is grounded in something much firmer. As I write this, we are flying over that small piece of water which separates Europe and Africa, and that small but sturdy landmark called the Rock of Gibraltar.
Oh yes, I recalled another moment in the life of the Bristish Museum. It was here more than 150 years ago that Karl Marx spent most of his life writing what became the manifesto for empire builders of the 20th century.
David
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