When I arrived here in Oxford I had no idea where I was going to live for the year, so I stayed with friends outside of Oxford in the charming town of Charlbury - where I had lived last time I came to England. A few days after my arrival, still looking for a flat, I walked out of my temporary home in Charlbury heading for the train station. I had been feeling a little lost that morning, questioning my judgement and decision to jump continents for a nine month master's program here in Oxford. Yet, as I walked the familiar route to the train station the beauty all around me reaffirmed me in my decision.
I find when in England, especially the initial weeks, I am always struck by a much more intrenched and weighty secularism than I find back home. It is not something that I can really express in words, but rather it is something I feel through the scenarios in which I find myself, conversations I have with others, and the media with which I am bombarded. As I left for the station, these thoughts were uppermost in my mind. However, as I walked these musings were replaced, as the beauty of the old buildings of Charlbury struck me as though I were seeing them for the first time. A rain cloud had just past over leaving everything clean and fresh. I walked through the graveyard which surrounds the Anglican Church of the town (parts were built in the 12th century) and could not help but think of all the Catholics who had worshiped here in times gone by. The hill I walked down, to finally reach the train station, was lined with wild black berries, just ripening. A little further down the hill, I passed over the river and gazed at the sheep grazing beneath the Old Rectory build in Gothic Revival style. As I reached the train station, I looked up at the sun peeking out from behind the clouds and was overwhelmed by the beauty all around me, both God-given and man-made, and how they complemented each other as Creator, creation, and sub-creator should.
There is a reason England is referred to as "Storybook England." The stories of the past are still there before one's eyes, if one only stops to look. Charlbury exudes a rich Christian heritage. I was filled with hope, for behind England's present secularism there still lies a deep foundation, half buried beneath the ground but peeping up above the surface. A really authentic culture is spoken through the art (using the word art broadly) that its people create. In England, an authentic culture has almost disappeared; however the creations of the past remain to encourage the present English to reembrace an authentic culture. If only they have the eyes to see Storybook England!
On a lighter note I am off to buy my sub-fusc for Matriculation
Cheers,
Hannah
On a lighter note I am off to buy my sub-fusc for Matriculation
Cheers,
Hannah
