William Wilberforce

I was moved by the following excerpt taken from "William Wilberforce, God's Politician";

"Now when he attended the parties and dinners he had enjoyed so much in the past, his pleasure was gone. "How vain and foolish all the conversation of great dinners: nothing worth remembering," he wrote. "Dined at Lord Chatham's. All the "greats" present. How ill suited is all this to me! How unnatural for one who professes himself a stranger and a pilgrim!" By contrast, he could write with pleasure: 'Dined at home. Milner and I had some serious talk.'

Despite his misgivings and discomfort, Wilberforce forced himself to maintain relationships with those with whom he had always spent so much time. he did not seek to be the center of attention anymore, but he did seek to participate as a friend. He remained faithful to those practices which he believed were appropriate to a dedicated Christian. he bowed his head to say grace before every meal, whether the friends with whom he ate joined in or not. He also tried, on every occasion to "do good" for his friends by turning their conversations to spiritual matters. Yet he would join in their gaiety-despite some misgivings- as much as he felt he could. We sense some of his inner turmoil when he writes in his diary, 'Dined at E's. The dinner turned into a rout. What extreme folly is all this! yet much entertained.' And in a letter to a friend: 'How difficult it is to be merry and wise.'"

Oh the constant tug of war between being here in body and "elsewhere" in spirit. Between being true to ourselves and being true to our friends. Between going mad or appearing mad because our realism doesn't fit with that of the worlds. Wilberforce's mother apparently had grave regrets over the "evangelical madness" that had gripped her son. A friend of hers responded to her concern with; "If he is mad may he bite us all." Wow. Oh to be able to pull that off. To possess and reflect something utterly foreign and contrary to this worldly paradigm, yet utterly inviting and desirable.