First Lord's Day Away

“I was dragged through numerous dismal chapels, dusty libraries and greasy halls. I never was but once in Oxford in my life and I am sure I never wish to go there again.” ~Jane Austen (1775-1817)

One of my chief concerns about traveling to the UK was finding a good church to attend while away from home. This Lord’s Day took me to a evangelical, low Anglican church called St. Ebbes. They have three different services on Sunday: one for families and all ages, a second for younger, student types (probably like myself), and third in the evening for those in their 20’s and 30’s. I’m a bit critical of churches who divide services between age groups, so I tried the early “all ages” service. The church service was held in what looked to be a pretty old building on St. Ebbes street. They had done away with any pews that probably existed earlier on and had changed the direction of the congregational seating so as to face one of the side walls of the churches. It was what I would have expected from a typical, non-denominational church back home. An impressive organ sat gathering dust which always makes me shed a tear, and when we began singing a rendition of Disney’s The Jungle Book’s “The Bare Necessities” which read as follows:

“Yes, it’s the bare necessity,
The simple bare necessity,
It’s everything I need to know for life;
I mean the bare necessity
That Jesus dies to rescue me—
It’s the bare necessity I need to know for life.”


I was a bit put off. But we ended with “Great is Thy Faithfulness” and despite my usual disdain for contemporary worship, the congregation appeared to be flourishing in numbers, and that got me hopeful (numbers aren’t always important, but what I understand is that the UK citizens who attend church are sincere followers of Christ). We met a few of the locals, and Lord-willing, I may find myself back in that congregation in weeks to come.




The walk back to our home got me wanting to spend my afternoon touring the city a bit. As most of the students were still recovering from jet lag, Alex and I took off on our own to spend some quality time seeing some of Oxford’s more impressive sites. Our first stop was the Oxford Martyr’s memorial on St. Giles road.

This beautiful structure is in memory of Protestant Bishops Latimer, Ridley and Cranmer who were burnt at the stake in the 16th century under the reign of “Bloody” Mary. That monument read as follows:

“To the Glory of God, and in grateful commemoration of His servants, Thomas Cranmer, Nicholas Ridley, Hugh Latimer, Prelates of the Church of England, who near this spot yielded their bodies to be burned, bearing witness to the sacred truths which they had affirmed and maintained against the errors of the Church of Rome, and rejoicing that to them it was given not only to believe in Christ, but also to suffer for His sake; this monument was erected by public subscription in the year of our Lord God, MDCCCXLI.”

I was deeply appreciative that this was one of my first sites visited in the UK.

After the memorial, we visited the exact location where the men were martyred for their faith located in the middle of Broad Street. I imagine very few people in the city know that there is a cross in the middle of the road dedicated to these forefathers of the faith.


We located the “White Horse” pub, which looks as if it will be a frequent visiting place from now till the end of the semester.


Saw the Sheldonian Theatre, the Bridge of Sighs, Radcliffe Square and Camera, and the University Church which for a couple pounds gave us access to climb the 127 steps of its tower and get an impressive look of the city of Oxford.






Inside the church was a practicing organist and a number of historical perks some of which included a pulpit used by John Wesley, C.S. Lewis, and Lewis Carroll. I also saw a pillar of which was carved out stone to serve as a block from which Thomas Cranmer was to make his submission to the Church of Rome. He later retracted his recantation and with a smile and calm serenity went to the stake to be burned. As the flames grew hot beneath him, he held out the hand that had signed his original recantation to the fire, allowing it to be consumed first as he suffered and died for the sake of Christ Jesus.

Our sightseeing was cut short due to tea time back at our residence. As the days comes to a close, I find myself continually pondering the great heroes of the faith and the prices they paid to profess and confess the name of Jesus. As Americans, we have a deep appreciation for our First Amendment rights. But I wander if religious liberty has not caused the Church to become weak and lazy in the American context. Perhaps the day will come when Americans in America are forced to give up their lives for the sake of the gospel. What a wondrous blessing and profession of faith the Church has had throughout the centuries to suffer for Christ’s sake!