The highlight of the day, however, was looking at P52 -- the earliest fragment of a Gospel that we have. It is not only the earliest fragment, it is the earliest assured artifact of early Christianity. It was in the exhibition center in the John Rylands library -- I was alone when I examined it for about 10 minutes. It has writing on both sides - very large and clear handwriting. It is small -- 5 x 8 cms? One could see, if one looked closely, a few stray fibres that dangled from the papyrus.

It is beautifully preserved and wonderfully presented. The case was kept below freezing. I could see not only the front and the back, but the thickness. The fragment was originally dated around 125 on the basis of its handwriting; a recent Harvard study has called this in question -- suggesting that it may possibly be from the late 2nd century. Yet the size and clarity of the letters is amazing -- it was not written to save the expense of papyrus or quickness in production. I spent time counting from the darkness of the letters how often the scribe had to dip his or her (we know that women scribes were involved in the production of early Christian texts) stylus into the ink well -- about 5-7 letters. The scribe seemed to mark iota's very lightly; they were consistently lighter or absent compared with the rest of the texts.

It is interesting to compare this with some of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Papyrus versus parchment (animal skin); of course Greek versus Hebrew (largely); yet when one looks at the fineness of many of the Dead Sea Scrolls, there tiny letters and elegant script, it is like they are artistic caliography. P52 seems made to have been read -- vocally amid a group of people.

I was at the John Rylands Library to get access into their reading room -- very secure. No bags, no books brought in, electronic locked glass doors, glass viewing of the stations were scholars can work, no pens, only pencils allowed in the room. Computers and electric sources for them allowed, but all that is brought in has to be placed in a clear plastic bag. Three stories down they have lockers to place things in. The library is all reference -- no books or manuscripts ever leave the premises. What you ask for is brought to you to work. For right now most of what I need is from an on-line data base. Later I hope to look at more biblical fragments, largely fragments from Elephantine. I think that I also want to look at some literary texts from around 125 to compare their handwriting to P52.

The library is downtown -- about 5 miles from Middle Earth, known around here as Didsbury. Supposedly the bus line is the busiest in the UK. I sat on the top of the double decker both ways, trying to get my bearings. Since Tasha left this morning for Portugal, I was on my own. And, most likely to her surprise, I did fine without her! The line into Manchester is interesting. It goes through the villages made into suburbs, through communities composed of those from the Middle East and Indian sub-continent, into the University of Manchester area (with some absolutely atrocious architecture), past a huge BBC building (think of a block long rectangular box of dirty concrete with lines regularly drawn on it), into the City Centre. Here one meets a collage of different architectural types -- some old and noble (and some unnoble, but overall, the 19th century architecture vastly outdoes the 20th century), some contemporary and trite (all buildings built in the 1960s ought to be destroyed for violation of Beauty). Some of the more recent buildings have tried to merge the two -- and with some success. Even with the bus, I probably walked over a mile to get to the library and back.

It was diner time coming home -- I stopped in at a bakery to get a quiche to take with me, along with some rolls for morning and a cheese bread for later. Because I had to walk back from the village to NTC, I thought that a gourmet ice cream cone was in order -- the owner told me (I don't know whether to believe him because he was obviously trying to sell me on his product) that it was in Switzerland in the morning, and flown to Manchester and delivered only to him in the area (it is only available in the Hilton hotels, he said, on the east coast) by 10 o'clock. The taste and texture reminded me of a combination of a creamery and Hagen Das.

I want to leave you tonight with a long quote from William Law, who deeply influenced John Wesley. It is fascinaing how somethings don't change. Law exhorts Christians to give to the poor and to beggars. He does this through a literary figure, a wealthy patronness that he calls "Miranda." Here is what he writes:

Miranda never wants compassion, even to common beggars; especially towards those that are old or sick, or full of sores, that want eyes or limbs. She hears their copmlaints with tenderness, gives them some proof of her kindness, and never rejects them with hard or reproachful language, for fear of adding affliction to her fellow-creatures.

If a poor old traveller tells her that he has neither strength, nor food, nor money left, she never bids him go to the place from whence he came, or ells him that she cannot relieve him, because he may be a cheat, or she does not know hom; but she relieves him for that reason, because he is a stranger and unknown to her. For it is the most noble part of charity to be kind and tender to those whom we never saw before, and perhaps never may see again in this life. 'I was a stranger, and ye took me in,' saith our blessed Saviour; but who can perform this duty, that will not relieve persons that are unknown to him?

Miranda considers Lazarus was a comon beggar, that he was the care of Angels, and carried into Abraham's bosom. She considers that our blessed Saviour and His Apostles were kind to beggars; that they spoke comfortably to them, healed their diseases, and restored eyes and limbs to the lame and blind; that Peter said to the beggar that wanted an alms from him, "silver and gold have I none, but such as I have give I thee: in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk.' Miranda, therefore, never treat beggars with disregard and aversion; but she imitates the kindness of our Saviour adh His Apostles towards them; and though she cannot, like them, work miracles for their relief, yet she relieves them with that power that she hath; and may say, with the Apostle, "such as I have give I thee, in the name of Jesus Christ.'

It may be, says Miranda, that I may often give to those that do not deserve it, or that will make an illuse of myh alms. But what then? Is not this the very method of Divine goodness? Does nto God make 'His sun to rise on the evil and on the good'? Is not this the very goodness that is recommended to us in Scripture, that, by imitating of it, we may be children of our Father which is in Heaven, who 'sendeth rain on teh just and on the unjust'? ANd shall I withhold a little money or food, from my fellow-creature, for fear he should not be good enough to receive it of me? Do I get of God to deal with me, not according to my merit, but according to His own great goodness; and shall I be so absurd as to withhold my charity from a poor brother because he may perhaps not deserve it? Shall I use a measure toward him, which I pray God never to use towards me?

Besides, wher has the Scripture made merit the rule or measure of charity? Onthe contrary, the Scripture saith, 'If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink.

Now this plainly teaches us, that the merit of persons is to be no rule of our charity; but that we are to do acts of kindness to those that least of all deserve it. For if I am to love and do good to my worst enemies; if I am to be charitable to them, notwithstanding all their spite and malice; surely merit is no measure of charity. If I am not to withhold my charity from such bad people, and who are at teh same time my enemies, surely I am not to deny alms to poor beggars, whom I neither know to be bad people, nor any way my enemies.

You will perhaps say, that by this means I encourage people to be beggars. But the same thoughtless objection may be made against all kinds of charities, for they may encourage people to depend upon them. The same may be said against forgiving our enemies, for it may encourage people to do us hurt. The same may be said even aginst the goodness of God, that by pouring His blessings on the evil and on the good, ont he just and on the unjust, evil and unjust men are encouraged in their wicked ways. The same may be said against clothing thenaked or giving medicine to the sick; for that may encourage people to neglect themselves, and be careless of their health. But when the love of God dwelleth in you, when it has enlarged your heart, and filled you wiht bowels of mercy and compassion, youwill make no more such objections as these.

When you are at any time turning away the poor, the old, the sick, and helpless traveler, the lame, or the blind, ask yourself this question, Do I sincerely wish these poor creatures may be as happy as Lazarus, that was carried by Angels into Abraham's bosom? Do I sincerely desire that God would make them fellow-heirs with me in eternal glory? Now if you search into your soul, you will find that there is none of these motoins there; that you are wishing nothing of this. For it is impossible for any one heartily to wish a poor creature so great a happieness, adn yet not have a heart to give him a small alms. For this reason, says Miranda, as far as I can, I give to all, because I pray to God to forgive all; and I cannot refuse an alms to those whom I pray God to bless, whom I wish to be partakers of eternal glory, but am glad to show some degree of love to such as, I hope, will be the objects of the infinite love of God. And if, as our Saviour has assured us, it be more blessed to give than to receive, we ought to look upon those that ask our alms, as so many friends and benefactors, that come to do us a greater good than they can receive, that come to exalt our virtue, to be witnesses of our charity, to be monuments of our love, to be our advocates with God, to be to us in Christ's stead, to appear for us in the day of judgment, and to help us to a blessedness greater than our alms can bestow on them."