Luke contributes in the following Venn contexts:
Dr. Luke Fenwick is committed to a life of learning and inquiry as a teacher and as a student. He is currently writing about resistance and conformity in Nazi Germany, and how we might think about them theologically and existentially.
Luke grew up in Christchurch and completed his undergraduate degree in Classics and History at the University of Canterbury. He went on to read German history at University College, Oxford, where he took a doctorate in 2011. Since then, Luke has worked with policy and tertiary institutions in London, Washington D.C., Moscow, and Auckland.
Throughout this time Luke played more than 20 years of competitive rugby. Sport remains an interest, as do music and movies. Luke is a Senior Teaching Fellow at Venn and teaches on the Residential Fellowship, along with Summer Conference and various other events. He is married to Olivia, and Luke and Olivia have two sons, Jude and Gabriel.
Is this freedom? Freedom is the first kiss. It’s kicking around the sandpit and making mudpies. It’s a fragrance once known and never forgotten. It’s a memory that sticks.
It turned out to be a silent retreat. Many years ago, I volunteered with the Trinity Forum in the UK. I worked with friends to organise a conference where participants could engage with a variety of texts and ask big questions about life and faith.
Ernst Lohmeyer had worked for months toward a single goal. By turns he had hurdled, skirted, and flirted with the range of obstacles before him, and if he was to see the fruition of his labour, he had to take his responsibilities seriously, with two hands and whatever else besides.
There’s nothing dramatic or glossy about patience. Patience doesn’t bid for our attention. It’s regularly overlooked and mistaken.
Some years ago I sought a group of young people who lived almost a century ago. One intrigued me in particular, and I tracked him to the Bavarian State Archive.
Since its publication in 1680 Joachim Neander’s hymn, “Lobe den Herren, den mächtigen König der Ehren,” has been sung in Christian worship as a magnificent hymn of praise to God, who is Lord over all.
Ernst Lohmeyer had worked for months toward a single goal. By turns Lohmeyer hurdled, skirted, and flirted with the range of obstacles before him, and if he was to see the fruition of his labour, he had to take his responsibilities seriously, with two hands and whatever else besides.
I’ve spent some time in Paul’s letter to the Philippians recently, and Paul’s prayer at 1:9-11 has especially impressed me. That is, it has pressed itself upon me. Next week I’ll offer a fuller reflection, but here I want to touch faintly on Paul’s duty of and selflessness in prayer. With “longing” (1:8) Paul writes from prison to console the Philippians who grieve his absence.