A View from a Jacuzzi
The other day I was one of a crowd who spent much of a wet Saturday afternoon in a jacuzzi. My advisees, who formed the crowd, had advised me to try it; you'll like it, they said. Till then I had not even known how 'jacuzzi' is pronounced. I had taken it to rhyme with the name of Beachcomber's memorable operatic soprano, Rustiguzzi. (Who was Beachcomber? Why, England's magnificent answer to Stephen Leacock. You never heard of him? I'm very sorry for you. Now let me get on.) I found, however, that the proper rhymes for jacuzzi are words like woozy, boozy and floozie. Whether that is good or bad news I'm not sure, but facts are facts. Previously I had thought of jacuzzis as reserved for hedonists in Hollywood and sybarites in San Francisco, but now I know that under certain circumstances members of Regent's teaching faculty may also use them. Every day, it seems, one learns something new. More…
Gift Beyond Measure
The truth is that the first time I worshipped at St. John’s Anglican Church, I was stalking J. I. Packer. On the third visit, there he was, up in front—tall, thin, white hair, long black outfit—kneeling at a little wooden desk, leading the congregation through the service. More…
Volume 31, Number 1, Spring 2020
Our Bodies Bear Knowledge: Reflections from the Camino de Santiago
In this creative essay, Susan Philips’ contemplates the meaning of a long walk. Her recent Santiago de Compostela pilgrimage provides insight into the nature of community, education, and following Christ. More…