Two weeks previously, I have written a tongue-in-cheek conversation which, with a hint of of a remote possibility, could have taken place among the family members of Conservative MP Jacob Rees-Mogg. Such talking was from his eldest son's perspective, to ponder what was going through his mind as he wrapped a tie around his collared shirt and completed the knot, in preparation for a visit to New York's Empire State Building.
What was he thinking or feeling? Was he enjoying a state of euphoria in the knowledge that he was born into a family of Eton-educated aristocrats? And to wear a tie on a hot summer's day while on holiday added emphasis to his social standing? And was he also keen to visit churches, palaces or even a museum?
Or on the contrary, was the son acting like a typical teenager, pleading with his parents to visit the Six Flags theme park and funfair rather than visiting boring churches, or dry-as-dust, hands-off exhibits displayed at a museum of Victorian culture, especially about displays of ladies' clothing of that period? And did he envy slightly older teenagers out on a beach or theme park, having a wonderful time under the warm sunshine, and not a tie to be seen among a crowd of thousands?
Recalling as a child myself, I cannot deny that I firmly belong to the second category. Although having said that, as a boy I did find the Museum of Natural History in the London borough of South Kensington very intriguing - exciting rather, even if all the exhibits there were not to be touched. Indeed, I could ask: What is it about the skeleton of an ancient beast we kids find so inspiring? By contrast, I found the hands-off exhibits within the Victoria and Albert Museum very boring, even though it's housed in a far more elegant building, which boasts Greek/Roman columns and topped with a same style pediment, and located right next door to the Natural History Museum. Then again, how could I ever forget the nearby Science Museum with its hands-on exhibits, multiple crank-handles to turn, and buttons to press to see the exhibit actually function - especially in the Children's Gallery?
And there is Hampton Court Palace located in the Richmond area of Greater London. Building commenced in 1515 to be the home of Cardinal Wolsey, and then after falling out of favour with the reigning monarch, the palace was given as a gift to King Henry VIII. The palace remained lived in until the death of its final resident, Prince William, Duke of Cumberland in 1765, before it was opened for the public by Queen Victoria in 1838.
Like all the exhibits in the Victoria and Albert Museum, Hampton Court Palace was loved by Mum, who always had a specific interest in British history, especially about past monarchs, with King Henry VIII with his six wives being the most prominent of them all. Little wonder the filmmakers here in the UK choose this particular king to base their multiple Period TV series which were broadcast over the decades. Without a doubt, for her to visit his former home gave her great inspiration to learn of his life. But as a youngster, such was not particular for me. Instead, I had to tow along, bored as I could be, but without (if I remember) making any real fuss.
After all, we passed one bedroom after another. Indeed the aesthetic paneling lining the walls made the chamber very unusual, rather nice actually, but the bed is like all other double beds I have ever seen, except that it wasn't slept in for centuries. With one bedroom following another, each bed might have a different coloured cover but so what? It's just another bed, ready to receive the next occupant. No doubt, with no dead human skin cells to smear the sheeting for two centuries, despite the wide choice of available bedclothes, no bedbug had any hope of standing a chance for a free feed, therefore seeking their luck elsewhere. Surely, to see such natural activity among bedbugs would have made the visit a lot more interesting!
To feel bored over repetitive bedrooms at a palace, or by staring at a old frock once worn by a Victorian duchess, is simply out of immaturity. I was too young to understand. Far more appealing, as museums have anything to go by, is where I can do something, such as turning a crank and watching the exhibit function, the moving parts driven by hidden rotors causing the displayed mechanism to work as intended. This includes, for example, the spark generated by the Van de Graaff generator, the spark firing painlessly at my fingertip as I turn the crank beneath it.
Both the Science and Natural History Museums were visited from time to time well into adulthood. Then, as at present, a corridor linked the two museums together, to walk from one into the other made a full day out pretty straightforward. But as for the Victoria and Albert, I stayed well away. I simply wasn't interested. That is, until I met and married Alex. Like my mother, Alex too had an interest in history, with four-poster beds and meticulously woven linen which always held some inspiration for her.
Therefore, more than three years after the birth of our first daughter, a good mate of mine from church, Geoff, agreed to take us to Hampton Court, for he was the only one who owned a drives a car. How things were different this time. This time, as we sauntered past one room after another, I found myself appreciating the historic significance of these displays. Also Geoff, a graduate who has remained unmarried to this day, enjoyed acting as Daddy to our daughter, purposely lingered behind with her whilst my wife and I absorbed the aesthetic historicity of the King's former home.
It was several years later when Alex and I decided to spend a day in London to visit the Victoria and Albert Museum. There were no queues leading to its doors, unlike with the other two museums, with both having long queues of people snaking into the street. Such as deciding to visit on a weekend or during school holidays. Despite still having a stunted interest in period clothing, it was a joy to watch my beloved taking delight in such displays. Particularly with furniture, jewelry, ceramics, and art, such historic beauty meant to be appreciated as well as their utility. The sort of displays which would have bored me to tears as a boy, but finding such an exhibition of far greater inspiration as well as interest as an adult.
The rate of personal maturation can also be demonstrated between two visits to the Gateway Arch at St Louis, Missouri whilst backpacking across the USA, first in 1978, then again in 1995.
Standing 192 metres high, this stainless steel arch marks the Gateway to the West, which, according to a map of the USA hung on a wall of the museum, there was a trail beginning here in Missouri and leading Northwest to the Pacific coast of Oregon. Visitors can ascend to the apex of the Arch by means of a unique elevator within the structure, a tram consisting of eight claustrophobic cylinders strung together side by side, each drum holding up to five people. The tram can also be likened to a Ferris wheel, as each drum rights itself in accordance with the curvature of the arch.
As a 25-year-old, after finding out about such an unusual mode of transport, it was easy to forget about the Visitor's Center and underground museum from where I am to board the tram. After a four-minute ride to the viewing gallery, I enjoyed a fantastic view of the city from one side, and the view of the Mississippi River which forms the frontier with the State of Illinois, from the other side of the gallery. Afterwards I made the descent down the other side of the Arch inside an identical cylinder. Unfortunately at the time, I didn't give much of a toss about the museum. Instead, I made my way back into the city.
Move forward seventeen years and I was back at the same venue. As with the first visit, I made the ascent to the viewing gallery to enjoy the spectacular views. But after I was back down, I wanted to explore the underground museum and examine the exhibits displayed there. It was there where I spent much of the day in enjoyment, learning about how the early settlers made their way towards the Pacific Coastline with an interest which I didn't feel so much on the first visit.
Therefore we were both ready to visit the Houses of Parliament earlier this week. That's the wonderful thing about marriage! Venues such as Hampton Court Palace, the Victoria and Albert Museum and even the Palace of Versailles in France, I would never have considered visiting except for my beloved having an interest. Therefore, from hint after hint, I eventually gave in and booked two tickets for an audio tour of the House of Parliament, made possible by the Government being on its Summer recess.
Two kinds of tours were available to the public. The escorted tour and the audio tour. Being independent as I have always been, I did not hesitate to choose the latter, as this would allow us to complete the tour at our own pace rather than decided by somebody else. Since Alex was in a wheelchair, we found the staff very courteous and helpful, ensuring that we were set on the right course before starting the tour on our own.
After visiting St Stephen's Hall, the Central Lobby, the Robing Room, the Royal Gallery and the House of Lords, we hit the climax - the House of Commons. As Alex remained in her wheelchair, I stood spellbound in this chamber, standing directly over where the Mace lies during a Parliament session. All the green seats were vacant, but I recognised where the Prime Minister sat, just a metre or so from where I was standing. From each seat a small microphone hangs by a cable from the ceiling (the same in the House of Lords) which is something I had never noticed when watching the News on television. No wonder why, when a MP needs to deliver a speech, he needs to stand up. This had always been necessary in order for him to speak into the microphone, as if deliberately set at the right height for this purpose.
In all, our tour took just over two hours, which was approximately forty minutes longer than stated on the itinerary, thanks to our slow and relaxing pace. It was certainly very enlightening! Even with the Chamber of Commons, on television it looks larger and more cavernous than in reality. I was rather taken back over the fact that the chamber is smaller than I have imagined.
This is all about maturing as an adult. This brings to mind the instruction to all new believers in Jesus Christ as Saviour, to feed on the milk of the Word of God, and to grow in faith until ready to feed on strong meat.
I think my childhood experience with palaces and museums is a good illustration of one who has recently converted to Christ. Just as palace bedrooms and period clothes would have bored my pants off, not yet ready to appreciate the historical significance of these artifacts, so as unlikely for a new convert to understand the deeper significance of the Bible. For example, I would not be expected to understand the vision of the four beasts rising from a turbulent ocean detailed in the Book of Daniel. Instead I would be encouraged to read and study the Gospel of John. Likewise, a new believer would not be expected to exhibit spiritual maturity. This comes after a time, whether weeks, months, or years of reading the Bible and allowing to be filled and led by the Holy Spirit.
A boy may see a man with a beard, and decides that he wants one himself. So he starts praying for it fervently, even setting aside times of fasting. But the beard doesn't begin to grow, no matter how fervent his prayers are. But once grown into adulthood, he'll see that the beard will begin to grow on its own accord without the need of a single prayer!
My childhood boredom with palaces and stuffy museums is not due to rebellion or nastiness. Rather, its due to immaturity. Likewise, if you see a new believer, or any believer behaving in an unrighteous or apparently godless way, even if he regularly attends church, likewise it may not be due to willful rebellion, nor lack of salvation, but immaturity. He needs to feed on the spiritual milk before expecting him to feed on strong meat.
And there is Hampton Court Palace located in the Richmond area of Greater London. Building commenced in 1515 to be the home of Cardinal Wolsey, and then after falling out of favour with the reigning monarch, the palace was given as a gift to King Henry VIII. The palace remained lived in until the death of its final resident, Prince William, Duke of Cumberland in 1765, before it was opened for the public by Queen Victoria in 1838.
Like all the exhibits in the Victoria and Albert Museum, Hampton Court Palace was loved by Mum, who always had a specific interest in British history, especially about past monarchs, with King Henry VIII with his six wives being the most prominent of them all. Little wonder the filmmakers here in the UK choose this particular king to base their multiple Period TV series which were broadcast over the decades. Without a doubt, for her to visit his former home gave her great inspiration to learn of his life. But as a youngster, such was not particular for me. Instead, I had to tow along, bored as I could be, but without (if I remember) making any real fuss.
After all, we passed one bedroom after another. Indeed the aesthetic paneling lining the walls made the chamber very unusual, rather nice actually, but the bed is like all other double beds I have ever seen, except that it wasn't slept in for centuries. With one bedroom following another, each bed might have a different coloured cover but so what? It's just another bed, ready to receive the next occupant. No doubt, with no dead human skin cells to smear the sheeting for two centuries, despite the wide choice of available bedclothes, no bedbug had any hope of standing a chance for a free feed, therefore seeking their luck elsewhere. Surely, to see such natural activity among bedbugs would have made the visit a lot more interesting!
 |
| One of several bedrooms at Hampton Court. |
To feel bored over repetitive bedrooms at a palace, or by staring at a old frock once worn by a Victorian duchess, is simply out of immaturity. I was too young to understand. Far more appealing, as museums have anything to go by, is where I can do something, such as turning a crank and watching the exhibit function, the moving parts driven by hidden rotors causing the displayed mechanism to work as intended. This includes, for example, the spark generated by the Van de Graaff generator, the spark firing painlessly at my fingertip as I turn the crank beneath it.
Both the Science and Natural History Museums were visited from time to time well into adulthood. Then, as at present, a corridor linked the two museums together, to walk from one into the other made a full day out pretty straightforward. But as for the Victoria and Albert, I stayed well away. I simply wasn't interested. That is, until I met and married Alex. Like my mother, Alex too had an interest in history, with four-poster beds and meticulously woven linen which always held some inspiration for her.
Therefore, more than three years after the birth of our first daughter, a good mate of mine from church, Geoff, agreed to take us to Hampton Court, for he was the only one who owned a drives a car. How things were different this time. This time, as we sauntered past one room after another, I found myself appreciating the historic significance of these displays. Also Geoff, a graduate who has remained unmarried to this day, enjoyed acting as Daddy to our daughter, purposely lingered behind with her whilst my wife and I absorbed the aesthetic historicity of the King's former home.
It was several years later when Alex and I decided to spend a day in London to visit the Victoria and Albert Museum. There were no queues leading to its doors, unlike with the other two museums, with both having long queues of people snaking into the street. Such as deciding to visit on a weekend or during school holidays. Despite still having a stunted interest in period clothing, it was a joy to watch my beloved taking delight in such displays. Particularly with furniture, jewelry, ceramics, and art, such historic beauty meant to be appreciated as well as their utility. The sort of displays which would have bored me to tears as a boy, but finding such an exhibition of far greater inspiration as well as interest as an adult.
The rate of personal maturation can also be demonstrated between two visits to the Gateway Arch at St Louis, Missouri whilst backpacking across the USA, first in 1978, then again in 1995.
Standing 192 metres high, this stainless steel arch marks the Gateway to the West, which, according to a map of the USA hung on a wall of the museum, there was a trail beginning here in Missouri and leading Northwest to the Pacific coast of Oregon. Visitors can ascend to the apex of the Arch by means of a unique elevator within the structure, a tram consisting of eight claustrophobic cylinders strung together side by side, each drum holding up to five people. The tram can also be likened to a Ferris wheel, as each drum rights itself in accordance with the curvature of the arch.
 |
| Inside a drum of the Arch tram. |
As a 25-year-old, after finding out about such an unusual mode of transport, it was easy to forget about the Visitor's Center and underground museum from where I am to board the tram. After a four-minute ride to the viewing gallery, I enjoyed a fantastic view of the city from one side, and the view of the Mississippi River which forms the frontier with the State of Illinois, from the other side of the gallery. Afterwards I made the descent down the other side of the Arch inside an identical cylinder. Unfortunately at the time, I didn't give much of a toss about the museum. Instead, I made my way back into the city.
Move forward seventeen years and I was back at the same venue. As with the first visit, I made the ascent to the viewing gallery to enjoy the spectacular views. But after I was back down, I wanted to explore the underground museum and examine the exhibits displayed there. It was there where I spent much of the day in enjoyment, learning about how the early settlers made their way towards the Pacific Coastline with an interest which I didn't feel so much on the first visit.
Therefore we were both ready to visit the Houses of Parliament earlier this week. That's the wonderful thing about marriage! Venues such as Hampton Court Palace, the Victoria and Albert Museum and even the Palace of Versailles in France, I would never have considered visiting except for my beloved having an interest. Therefore, from hint after hint, I eventually gave in and booked two tickets for an audio tour of the House of Parliament, made possible by the Government being on its Summer recess.
Two kinds of tours were available to the public. The escorted tour and the audio tour. Being independent as I have always been, I did not hesitate to choose the latter, as this would allow us to complete the tour at our own pace rather than decided by somebody else. Since Alex was in a wheelchair, we found the staff very courteous and helpful, ensuring that we were set on the right course before starting the tour on our own.
After visiting St Stephen's Hall, the Central Lobby, the Robing Room, the Royal Gallery and the House of Lords, we hit the climax - the House of Commons. As Alex remained in her wheelchair, I stood spellbound in this chamber, standing directly over where the Mace lies during a Parliament session. All the green seats were vacant, but I recognised where the Prime Minister sat, just a metre or so from where I was standing. From each seat a small microphone hangs by a cable from the ceiling (the same in the House of Lords) which is something I had never noticed when watching the News on television. No wonder why, when a MP needs to deliver a speech, he needs to stand up. This had always been necessary in order for him to speak into the microphone, as if deliberately set at the right height for this purpose.
In all, our tour took just over two hours, which was approximately forty minutes longer than stated on the itinerary, thanks to our slow and relaxing pace. It was certainly very enlightening! Even with the Chamber of Commons, on television it looks larger and more cavernous than in reality. I was rather taken back over the fact that the chamber is smaller than I have imagined.
 |
| About to enter the Houses of Parliament, taken August 2018. |
This is all about maturing as an adult. This brings to mind the instruction to all new believers in Jesus Christ as Saviour, to feed on the milk of the Word of God, and to grow in faith until ready to feed on strong meat.
I think my childhood experience with palaces and museums is a good illustration of one who has recently converted to Christ. Just as palace bedrooms and period clothes would have bored my pants off, not yet ready to appreciate the historical significance of these artifacts, so as unlikely for a new convert to understand the deeper significance of the Bible. For example, I would not be expected to understand the vision of the four beasts rising from a turbulent ocean detailed in the Book of Daniel. Instead I would be encouraged to read and study the Gospel of John. Likewise, a new believer would not be expected to exhibit spiritual maturity. This comes after a time, whether weeks, months, or years of reading the Bible and allowing to be filled and led by the Holy Spirit.
A boy may see a man with a beard, and decides that he wants one himself. So he starts praying for it fervently, even setting aside times of fasting. But the beard doesn't begin to grow, no matter how fervent his prayers are. But once grown into adulthood, he'll see that the beard will begin to grow on its own accord without the need of a single prayer!
My childhood boredom with palaces and stuffy museums is not due to rebellion or nastiness. Rather, its due to immaturity. Likewise, if you see a new believer, or any believer behaving in an unrighteous or apparently godless way, even if he regularly attends church, likewise it may not be due to willful rebellion, nor lack of salvation, but immaturity. He needs to feed on the spiritual milk before expecting him to feed on strong meat.
good one like all of your posts
ReplyDeleteDear Frank,
ReplyDeleteAs a child, my favorite museum in Philadelphia (a city blessed with several fine museums) was the Franklin Institute of Science. My favorite exhibit was a vastly enlarged replica of the human heart that you could walk through, following the path of a red blood cell, to the accompaniment of a very loud heartbeat! It never got old, even years later when I noticed graffiti written on the left ventricular wall!
Great analogy, though, how our taste in museums changes as we mature, as does our ability to comprehend deeper passages of Scripture, provided we are growing spiritually.
Thanks as always for the excellent post and God bless,
Laurie
Absolutely agree with you Frank concerning the milk of the Word and the Strong meat. We all have different testimonies and it is good to share them.
ReplyDeleteMy lovely father died when I was eleven but both my sister and myself experienced physical healings through his prayer for us. He was some years older than my mum, but during the eleven years of having him as my earthly dad Proverbs 22 v. 6 'Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.' has proved true in my life.
Whenever we used to argue as children and we would say 'Dad, dad, who is right.' He used to say 'Let's see what the Lord says.', search the scriptures, and always found a Word to solve the argument.
Although I went totally astray in my teens, when I became born again of God's Spirit many of what my dad said was brought to my mind.
How many people get upset about a person's lack of maturity and turn them away instead of helping them understand so they can mature. Great post.
ReplyDelete