“Guide me, O thou great Jehovah, pilgrim through this barren land.” So begins William Williams’ hymn in which Christian life is a pilgrimage along which the believer’s weakness is exposed, and God’s provision abounds. Pilgrimage is a deeply embedded description of the Christian life.

Ours is not a time of rest. I need not enumerate the many troubles that we face today, but it should be uncontroversial to point out that we live in a world ever more enveloped by fear. And who can blame us twenty-first century folk for suspecting that danger lurks in the shadows of every path?

Occasionally, when I’m out in the wild, someone might see my ID and notice that little “Dr.” in front of my name. The next comment often goes something like: “Oh, you’re a doctor!

I am now beginning my fourteenth year as an immigrant. In 2008, my wife and I, along with our young son, moved from the USA to Scotland to pursue my PhD.

Europeans generally think of Americans as very religious. They see things like a public swearing-in with a hand on the Bible and read a lot into that—even as it is somewhat of a formality that may have no obvious religious significance for those taking an oath.

My wife and I live in a small village—a hamlet—in rural France, and as in all the villages around us, we have an ancient parish church, with its strong bells regulating life. The painting “The Angelus” shows peasants with heads lowered in a field. They are our neighbours.

My wife and I were in the United States over the holidays, to see my mother who is aging, wider family, and just enjoy some warmer weather.

Wycliffe’s Ph.D. program trains candidates to carry out innovative research. Graduates go on to teach in universities, liberal arts colleges, and theological schools. They are also equipped for positions of leadership in ecclesiastical and related organizations, or for academically e