The guests were well fed with chicken curry and were sitting in a big circle in our living room with the questions coming thick and fast.  Why have you kept your Queen?  Why do you drive on the left?  Why do you keep miles and pints? Why do the shops close so early? Why doesn’t the heating come on sooner?

We had talked first a bit about what culture is and how our surface behaviours and customs are based on underlying values (which in turn are based on what we believe to be true about the world….).  Then we gave our guests the opportunity to ask ANY question they chose about their observations of Britain after living here for two and a half months.  It is always an instructive experience seeing ones own culture through the eyes of others!

As the British hosts (members of our church) searched for answers we came to a number of conclusions about the things we value as a culture.  For example, we don’t like change and we don’t like being told what to do by EU bureaucrats! We also have a stoical approach to life and are prepared to put up with cooler temperatures indoors if it will save heating bills.

In the past I have occasionally felt threatened by these sorts of questions and felt the need to be on the defensive. It’s particularly so if the questioner is in the midst of culture shock and feeling very negative about everything. But once we realise no single culture (including my own) has the monopoly on the best way of doing stuff, it becomes an enjoyable and eye-opening exercise.

Sometimes things may be better where they come from (it would indeed be less confusing if the UK stuck to one system of measurements, instead of the muddle we have now!).  Other things may be better here  (A South African young woman said how much she enjoyed the feeling of safety when going out after dark).  Some things are just different and once you know what the rules are (like shop opening times) you adapt accordingly.

One question we weren’t asked, which surprised me a little, was ‘why do we have separate hot and cold taps?  Perhaps it’s because we had no North Americans at our gathering as, judging by online discussions, this seems to be a particular source of bafflement to our friends over the pond. You can give all sorts of historical answers to this, but I have concluded that the real answer lies in the difference in certain underlying values between Brits and others – but more on this in another post.

We had an enjoyable evening, which certainly kept us on our toes.

Isn’t there something uniquely evocative about the combined smell of damp autumn leaves and gunpowder at this time of year for anyone who has grown up in Britain? Tomorrow night the sky above the park just up the road from our house will be ablaze with fireworks and a massive wicker sculpture (designed by local children in a competition) will be burned as a finale to the display. It’s a hugely popular event attended by thousands every year.

I went a couple of years ago with an Iranian student (among others).  She and I linked arms in the dark so as not to lose one another in the crowds and we bonded during the long cold wait for the fireworks to start – at least half an hour after the advertised time! Cultural events like this are a great opportunity to create occasions for internationals and locals to get together, so for the third year running (since we moved into this home) we’re hosting a meal after the fireworks.  Already we know around 20 international students who are coming!

But how do you explain, to an international audience, a custom which was once vehemently anti-Catholic and includes burning an effigy of a hate figure? Thankfully today those associations are mostly overlooked and the event has become an excuse to have some family-friendly firework fun. It’s an innocent celebration of the awful thing that never happened – domesticated, if you like, by the passage of the years. Still, I’ve always thought it worth looking into the origins of our customs thoughtfully, to see what connections we can make with important values and truths we might want to share with our international friends.

So when I tell the story of Guy Fawkes tomorrow night I will describe it as a story of what happens when religion and power politics become mixed, when there is oppression of a minority group, and what some desperate people will do when they lose all hope. Despite the story being 400 years old, it has a contemporary ring, doesn’t it? We’ll also take the opportunity to ask our guests tomorrow night if they think there’s a cause worth dying for … and briefly point them to the One we know who did.

Kenny* arrived in Oxford for an English course earlier this year and soon made his way to the International English Club, which runs at our local university.  The club is sponsored by the university chaplaincy and Friends International and is the brainchild of our colleague and friend, Peter. It’s a great place to make friends, practise English and meet local people. Kenny wanted to practise his English some more, so one of his new friends said ‘Why not come with us to church?’ So Kenny started to come to our church to improve his English.

Sometimes there would be a church lunch, where Kenny enjoyed the food and hanging out with people.  Sometimes he came home with us. (One of his Christian friends lives in our house).  We soon learned that Kenny never said no to home cooked food.  He’d been taught the word ‘Yummy’, which he used quite often.

At church we would say ‘What did you understand in the sermon, Kenny?’ ‘Not much’ he would reply – but he kept on coming. Was it the friendship? Was it being accepted into a community? Was it the chance of free food, or something else?   One Sunday he was curious about the sermon headings and asked his friend afterwards ‘What does ‘Gospel ministry’ mean?’

After a while Kenny asked for a Bible. He told me that it was because he wanted to understand the theme of the services and what church members were concerned about. So his Christian friends gave him a bilingual Japanese and English New Testament. He made a start, but got a bit confused by the genealogy in Matthew’s gospel and didn’t at first get any further.  Kenny’s friends noticed his spoken English was improving, though it was still difficult to know what was going on in his heart. All the while they were praying for him.

One Sunday he was clearly listening hard to the sermon and picked up enough to say ‘The pastor is angry that Christians do not read the Bible enough’.  Afterwards the pastor explained that he was not really angry but sad, and encouraged Kenny to read the Bible for himself.

Not long after this, just as other activities were quietening down for the summer, the Oxford International Outreach began.  For four weeks in July and August, every weekday evening Kenny had the opportunity to go to ‘Café 360’, hang out with young enthusiastic Christians and attend a Bible study. He went every day. After two weeks one of the girls on the team told me that Kenny had become a Christian.  I wondered about this – Kenny’s English is still quite limited; did he, in a way normal for his culture, simply want to please his friends by saying yes to a direct question? How can we discover what he really understands?  A bit later another friend gently probed and Kenny asserted ‘I love Jesus’.

If you were one of Kenny’s Christian friends, what would be your next step in helping him become a mature disciple, able to stand firm for Jesus in Japan?  You have about 4 or 5 months before he goes home! I’ll let you know how we get on.

* Name changed

I was in the Ashmolean Museum with my Japanese friend, walking through a gallery containing glass cases filled with exquisite examples of European ceramics. My friend’s comment took me by surprise, although it shouldn’t have done. “It’s a good thing you don’t have earthquakes in this country.”

She should know of course.   The recent catastrophic earthquake in Japan shook her home badly, although she was a long way from the epicentre.  I saw the photos she took of the mess of tumbled shelves, ornaments and paperwork, which must have taken days to clear up. Their house was left with some cracks but of course they got off lightly compared with some. However, her complete collection of Wedgwood pottery that she had so carefully transported home after her five years in England was smashed to pieces.

Knowing what beautiful ceramics the Japanese also produce I asked if there are not any such items on display in Japanese museums as there are here.  ”No, it’s too risky”, she replied. It sunk in, yet again, how much I take for granted.  I take it for granted that I will never have to do an earthquake drill.  I take it for granted that I will not find a tornado shelter in the basement of my church building, as I once did in Michigan. I take it for granted that a south-facing garden is sunny, April is a spring month and a westerly wind will bring rain.

Recently a friend recounted a lesson with her English-as-a-second-language class.  The students were all at the elementary stage and the topic was vocabulary. “Name some objects you will find in the home.” Each student offered a suggestion in turn …  chair, table, carpet … Kalashnikov. My friend wasn’t quite sure if this student intended to make a joke. However, given his home country, she concluded that his suggestion really did reflect  his realities at home.

And that is a good reminder of how important it is to ask the right kind of questions and listen carefully to the answers that our international friends give.  What are the things they take for granted that we don’t have an inkling of?  What are the things I take for granted to which I should maybe pay more attention?

One night in April we sat around a circular table laid for an elaborate feast.  The restaurant’s dining hall was set in courtyard gardens, formerly part of a Qing dynasty palace complex in Beijing. To describe our attendants as waitresses doesn’t do them justice.  They were gracious hostesses dressed in elaborate costume of the historic imperial court. Following an exquisite imperial era meal, accompanied by a Beijing Opera floorshow, one of the hostesses escorted us through the gardens. Whenever we passed another host or hostess on the way he or she would bow towards us and say a few words of greeting, to which our attendant responded with a gracious dip at the knees.  (This took some doing given her long robe and platform slippers.) Truly we were made to feel like royalty!

Our trip to visit David in China entailed a great number of meals out eaten with friends. The following day we moved from the imperial court to a restaurant themed around Mao era peasant food (also delicious).  On another occasion we sampled Peking Duck, with the chef carving the bird in front of us. The Chinese place a high value on food and shared meals and know how to look after their friends!

It was our experience at the Qing era restaurant that got me thinking again about The Feast that is still to come – now surely that will be a royal feast to beat any earthly imperial court, no matter how splendid! Sharing meals with our friends in China and with many guests in our home since our return also reminds me about how we can use meals for the Kingdom of God. Thanks to our new house, sitting around our dining table has provided us with plenty of opportunities to share life’s joys and struggles with church home group, international students, lodgers and other guests as well as, most recently, a bride-to-be about to enter a cross-cultural marriage!

I have just finished reading Tim Chester’s new book, entitled A Meal with Jesus: discovering Grace, Community and Mission around the Table. The book unpacks the saying found in Luke 7 v 34, which reads, “The Son of Man came eating and drinking”. The author shows how meals were integral to Jesus’ ministry and how they could be to ours.  See if you can count the number of stories Luke relates about meals Jesus ate with different people.  Or you could buy Tim Chester’s book.  It’s well worth it!

Dining Hall

Set for an imperial feast

Costume of Imperial concubines, Qing dynasty

We were standing in a shrine, where an ornate receptacle containing a venerated object was kept.  In spite of the notices asking for quiet and respect, there was a hum of voices as tour guides directed a throng of visitors towards the casket.  Cameras flashed as people jostled to get close.  We were in the Chapel of the Holy Right Hand, in the Basilica of St Stephen, Budapest, which we visited last month.  Stephen I was the first Christian monarch of Hungary and canonised a few years after his death. His right hand has been preserved, in mummified form, and is contained in an elaborate reliquary in said chapel.  It’s a bit like having Edward the Confessor’s right hand on display in Westminster Abbey.

The Basilica is a splendid neoclassical edifice with terrific views of the city from just below the dome.  It’s a must see for visitors to Budapest.  But the best bit of the building, from a gospel point of view, is the inscription of John 14 v 6 on the façade.  I could read the Latin text, but would the Japanese tourists I saw inside be able to understand Jesus’ words inscribed so large?  What would they come away with having visited this ‘Christian’ church? You see, inside the building the statue of St Stephen is prominent at the centre of the high altar, considerably larger than the one of Jesus lower down.

I imagine that Asian tourists have an instinctive understanding of venerable buildings, important national heroes and ancestors. That was certainly borne out on our recent trip to China, of which more in another post. They all have a rightful place in Western societies too. We very much enjoyed seeing the statues of the founding fathers of Hungary in Budapest’s ‘Heroes’ Square’.

But I couldn’t help wondering about the confusing link between patriotism, heroes and church buildings.  Our international student friends are bound to visit some of our great historic church buildings  – what sort of message will they convey? And what about the more humble church buildings we meet in on Sundays?  Are we alert to how they appear to a foreigner? Will they convey gospel values – or are there a lot of confusing messages we’ll need to explain?

The Basilica of St Stephen, Budapest , showing the inscription on the facade

Our latest residents have recently made an appearance.  They have probably been hiding here for some time but have only just emerged, somewhat unobtrusively, perhaps because of the extra light made available when we pruned the apple tree. They are a native species, quite rare in the wild now but still to be seen in certain meadows around Oxford. Yes, the snake’s head fritillary now adorns our garden this spring – all of two flowers and one of them partly eaten!

Sometimes international students are also hidden away from general view – in the library, the lab or gated residences – and we need to create conditions where we can meet them.  Free food is always a good idea!

You may have noticed we’ve changed the title of our blog to reflect what we want to use it for now – monthly musings about sharing life and hope with international students. In the next few months we hope to beef up some of the ‘about’ sections and eventually launch a proper website giving a bit more information about what we do and what we can offer.

Until then, think of us as we head to China on Monday to visit our son David and some dear friends who were once international students.

Fritillaria meleagris

Here’s an exercise you could try at home.  It was one we set participants at a recent workshop we ran.  It’s not as easy as it sounds – in fact it’s quite tricky to do.

Ever tried writing down a short summary of the gospel?  Christians from our tradition (and I’m assuming most of my readers fall into that category) will usually include words like ‘died in my place’ or ‘ took the penalty for my sin’.

But that’s not the exercise – or at least not quite.  You have to write a short summary of the gospel using the language of hospitality. Why? Because hospitality in the Bible is nothing to do with corporate entertaining or a nice dinner with friends.  No, biblical hospitality is about loving and welcoming strangers.  And it is God who first set the precedent by welcoming alienated sinners to his feast. It’s a theme that runs through the Bible, right from the promise of land to Abraham to the marriage supper of the Lamb described in Revelation.

Not everyone managed to do the exercise in the time, but the example below is a good start. How do you think it informs our ministry among international students?

“At great cost to himself Jesus welcomed hostile strangers who did not deserve to be part of his family and had nothing to give in return, and brought them to feast at his abundantly supplied table.”

Community meal in the street

Student Accommodation

We know when the new semester at our local university starts when the parking spaces in our road suddenly become much harder to find.  We know the students are back when our letterbox is crammed with flyers about discounted pizzas or the latest gig at the local music venue.  About the time we are going to bed, we hear groups of friends walking down the hill past our front door towards the bars and clubs of the Cowley Road.  The return trip up the hill towards campus (sometimes noisy) is in the small hours of the morning.

Most of these students are probably home grown. Our experience is that internationals are more likely to be bemused – even disgusted – by the drunken antics of their local counterparts than to try to emulate them. Instead, some of them have found their way to the international English club, which meets on campus on a Monday evening. That’s where Richard and I are most weeks too, along with other Christians from local churches. It gives the opportunity for international students to practise English in a safe, friendly environment and build relationships with long standing Oxford residents, who can help them settle into life in the UK.

Most students from other continents come to Britain assuming it is a Christian nation (whatever that means). I recall the surprise of a Japanese girl describing one of her classmates (a Muslim boy) explaining that he wouldn’t sleep with his fiancée until they were married.  When I gently pointed out that this was also Christian teaching, her jaw dropped in astonishment. ‘But everybody here does it!’ she protested. Ouch. I wonder if she really believed me when I said that less than 10% of the population in the UK are practising Christians.

Will the students who come to the English club on Monday evenings see the difference Jesus makes to our lifestyles? Our prayer, of course, is that that they will – and that they will want to find out why.  He is the only one who gives Life in all its fullness.

On Tuesday morning there was a solar eclipse at sunrise.  I didn’t realise until too late or I might have looked more carefully when I was out jogging.  There was probably too much cloud to see anything anyway.  The new moon, which partially obscured the sun for a few minutes as they both rose in the southeast, will now ‘grow’.  Tomorrow morning, if the sky is clear, I expect to be able to see an illuminated crescent like the curve from a capital letter D lifting above the horizon‚. When the moon is waning in its last quarter, it will have a C shaped crescent ƒ.

However, inspecting my new 2011 calendar bought in Johannesburg, I found the quarters of the moon were marked the opposite way round – new moon like a C ƒ. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised that our point of view on the earth’s surface affects the direction in which we see the illumination of the moon grow: left to right, rather than the familiar right to left. OK maybe this is a bit geeky of me, and you couldn’t really care less, but bear with me a moment. I vividly remember the first time I saw a full moon rise in the southern hemisphere.  The familiar ‘face’ looked all distorted– it was a very disorienting experience.  I had to look between my legs to make sure that it really was the same moon – just viewed at a different angle!

Why this digression on astronomy?  Simply this – it provides a vivid illustration of the things we take for granted in our own environment or culture.  Our point of view is easily perceived as the ‘right’ one and we feel threatened when it is challenged. In fact, somewhere else things may actually be quite different – even opposite.

Some time soon I need to work on an article along the lines of why we need to understand our own cultural norms and viewpoint in order to better serve international students.  My contention is this: when I am in my own culture, this kind of self-awareness is even more important than learning the culture of others, if we’re to be truly effective. Maybe I’ll use the moon illustration in the article – but you read it here first.