The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and will bring me safely to his heavenly kingdom. To him be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

II Timothy 4:18 (NIV)

The Golden Gate Bridge began construction in 1933, with an estimated cost of $35 million dollars. In those days, the estimate was that there would be one construction death per one million dollars spent. Therefore, planners assumed that about 35 men would accidentally die during construction of the bridge.

The builder and designer, Joseph Strauss, decided that this project would not cost the lives of 35 men. He decided to install a safety net underneath the bridge to catch any unfortunate construction worker who may fall. Not only was this a great humanitarian concept, it led to greater efficiency. Workers could now concentrate more on the job of welding, riveting, and all the other tasks of building a bridge. The project came in under budget and ahead of schedule. Eleven men did die during construction- ten in one unfortunate situation where an entire platform fell and the net could not hold that weight. Nineteen other men fell into the net and were saved. Overall, the net indeed saved many lives.

I used this analogy with a client the other day about God’s provision for us. He wants us to feel secure in his love because he has paid the price for our salvation. We don’t need to hang onto our relationship with him- He is holding us!

Prayer: Thank you for the plan to hold us, rather than our meager efforts to hang on to you, Amen.

Chapter 22
Harvey returned to the King’s chambers and explained to His Majesty the
need to draw blood, but not nearly the amount normally taken in a therapeutic
bloodletting. In fact, Shepherd had suggested that only the smallest amount of
blood would be needed; a small vial would do. Harvey found some acceptable
vials, washed them out, and found stoppers to contain the sample of blood to be
taken. Shepherd had suggested that they be carefully labeled, with each of our
samples of blood well marked on the vial. Harvey brought out a fresh lancet from
his bag in the palace dispensary. He always kept medical supplies available just
in case he would need to treat the King, or perhaps one of the courtiers from time
to time. Harvey made a small incision on the King’s fingertip, and proceeded to
repeat the procedure with each of us. Villiers then insisted that he too give a
sample of blood, and Harvey gladly obliged him.
We left the palace in the most expectant of moods. I was initially
disappointed that I was unable to really speak with the King of England, and that
our trip became no more than a medical visit. On the other hand, I could not
shake the idea that we were participating in the most extraordinary scientific
experiment that one could conceive of. While all of this was swirling in my head,
I did not notice that a man was fairly running out to catch up with us. As we
turned, we heard the puffing breath coming from an aging man anxious to catch
us before we left the palace. He was, I guessed, about sixty years old, in fair
shape for a man of his age. He had a ruddy complexion, sharpened by a graying
beard. He had a distinguished look, and it was clear that he was a man of some
prominence, based upon his clothing.
“Stop a moment, I beg you,” he stammered out. Clearly, he was now
quite short of breath, so we stopped to ask him of his need for us. “I have heard
that you are planning an experiment of some kind,” he gasped.
Harvey went over to him immediately. “Francis!” he shouted. “How did
you know that we were pursuing an experiment?”
“Villiers told me,” he replied, now starting to regain his breath and his
decorum.
“Gentlemen,” Harvey said to Shepherd and me, “I would like you to
meet Sir Francis Bacon, the honorable Lord Chancellor of England!”
I had of course heard of Bacon, a brilliant scientist, artist, and writer. I
had not expected to meet him as he was running to catch me and my friends!
Shepherd as usual was gracious, but nonplussed at meeting him.


“Dr. Bacon,” he began, “I am quite honored to meet you. I have read
many of your works, and I am especially taken with The New Atlantis. We must
talk about that sometime.”
Bacon seemed appreciative, but was clearly more interested in
discussing our mission.
“Gentlemen,” he began, “your experiment with blood: I want to know
more about it.”
“Well, so do I!” I laughed. At that Shepherd laughed out loud.
“Come,” he said, “let us all see what is in the offing.”
We went to a carriage that Villiers had procured for us, and we
proceeded to Harvey’s office. Bacon was animated now as the discussion turned
to science. Clearly that was his love. He began to talk about the need for certain
controls in our model, even though he had no idea of what the experiment was.
Shepherd was nodding in agreement, and then he began to tell all of us what he
was looking for.
Shepherd began, “Gentlemen, I believe that we may discover some
important things about blood today. Dr. Harvey has put forth the beautiful theory
that blood circulates throughout the body, pumped by the heart, nourishing and
sustaining all vital organs – our very lives, indeed, in the process. I believe that
blood also carries vapors, airs, as you call them, to all of our organs as well. As
we inhale air, there is a reason why we are built to need it refreshed so many
times a minute. Did you ever consider this?”
I had to admit that something as elementary as breathing was something
that we all take for granted. Just as we must eat, we must breathe. It was obvious,
but, at the same time, inexplicable. Shepherd went on.
“Blood is the courier of all nourishment to all parts of the body. There
are chemical processes that none of us understand that must take place within
our body every moment. Could one ever doubt that we are fearfully and
wonderfully made?”
Well, I wouldn’t doubt that, but I also did not understand these chemical
processes of which Shepherd spoke. Shepherd went on.
“There must be ‘couriers’ in the blood which transport vital elements to
the whole body. It only makes sense to me that, if we can get a close look at the
structure of the blood, we may be able to determine how this life force works. In
the book of Leviticus, it is written that the source of life is in the blood. I intend
to show that to be true.”
Francis Bacon was beside himself. His facile mind seemed stimulated
by such discussion. He said that he was anxious to be part of any research that
used the scientific method to which he was so dedicated.
“Well, you may participate fully, Chancellor,” said Shepherd. “You may
give a sample of blood, then help us to examine our samples. My hypothesis is
that our blood will differ from that of the King. His deteriorating health may be
indicated by changes in his blood. That, at least, is the theory that I wish to test.”

Villiers had suggested that the King’s royal blood was obviously
different than that of commoners such as the small group being tested. But
Harvey and Shepherd had dismissed that comment out of hand without even
mentioning it to Villiers. People cannot hear truth until they are ready to hear it.
Bacon was delighted with such deeply intuitive thinking. “What will you
be looking for?” asked Bacon.
“If my theory is correct, there are small couriers of some type in the
blood itself. These couriers carry nutrients to all the organs in the body, and,
somehow, convey the very air that we breathe to these organs as well.”
Hearing this, Bacon, Harvey, and I were amazed at the ideas presented,
and we were ready to get on with the experiment.
We returned to Harvey’s office, and proceeded to unpack the small
samples of blood that had been drawn. He noted the names on the side of each
vial. He took out the sample of the King’s blood, and placed a drop on a small
plate of glass under the Jannsen scope. We all took turns looking at the sample,
noticing indeed that Shepherd had been correct. There were small disc shaped
“boats” coursing through the sample. There were other shaped items as well,
some of which looked similar, but without the little indentations of the more
numerous bodies that we saw.
We then took turns placing samples of our own blood under the
magnification scope, and found some minor differences in ours. However, we
all agreed that the King’s blood sample contained far fewer of one type of body
than ours. We concluded that this was indeed a bodily process that either
produced the sickness, or was the evidence of it.
Shepherd had an idea that perhaps the King’s diet was the culprit. He
had not had a good appetite, according to Villiers, and perhaps nutrition played
a part in forming these “blood bodies” that the King seemed to lack. The King’s
appetite had been diminished, according to Villiers, so perhaps he had not been
getting some vital nutrient.
“Give him some calves’ liver,” I suggested.
“Why do you suggest that?” asked Bacon. I was about to answer, trying
to sound like there was some good medical idea behind it, but then, perhaps
influenced by Shepherd, simply told the truth.
“I really do not know,” I said. “It just seems to me that about the
bloodiest thing I have eaten lately was calves’ liver. If he needs more blood that
would be a good way to get it in him!”
Bacon laughed, as did Harvey. Shepherd however pondered the idea,
and said that it just might help. We all agreed that, if he would eat anything, it
would be helpful. Eating calves’ liver probably could not hurt.
We went back to the palace the next day with our somewhat odd
prescription. Villiers listened, and then he told the cook to prepare a supper laden
with calves’ liver and fresh greens. We were invited to stay and eat, but we each

had other things to be about. We did not want to intrude on the King, who was
ailing and needed privacy and rest.
Harvey was eager to continue his studies on circulation work, and was
planning to write up his findings for the Royal Society. Shepherd was interested
in going back to the Franciscan hospital to work with the poor and dying. I was
ready to get back to Andrew Kensington to see where I would fit in his
moneymaking schemes. None of us was ready for, or aware of, the adventure
that awaited us.

Chapter 23
It had been over four months now (it now being January, 1621) since we
parted company after leaving the palace and our little medical experiment with
King James was completed. Harvey stayed on at the palace for a while to see to
the treatment of the King. He wrote to me that the King slowly but steadily
improved after his diet began to include higher amounts of calves’ liver and
greens. He drew blood from the King several times to satisfy his curiosity about
the changes he anticipated in the amount of little bodies he saw in the sample.
He wrote that there appeared to be many more of the odd-shaped saucers he
identified in his own blood. He included this in his report to the Royal Society,
but that was overshadowed by the entire concept of blood flow throughout the
body. Harvey wrote that he had been in contact with Shepherd, who was staying
at the Franciscan hospital, and that he had shared the results with Shepherd.
It was at the hospital that Shepherd, who was caring for all the sick and
homeless, also was treating Jacob Carr. Carr was almost completely recovered
from the grievous stab wound he had sustained at the pub. Somehow, he had
managed to escape the fevers that so often accompanied such penetrating
wounds. I could not help thinking that Shepherd’s care was responsible for this.
Perhaps he had used another of his odd treatments on Carr, or perhaps Carr was
just cheating death once again as he was wont to do. Shepherd had also written
to me that Jacob was making some changes in his behavior, and that he had been
staying away from the old thieves and brigands that he had usually associated
with.
“That alone should keep him healthier,” I wrote back to Shepherd.
I, on the other hand, was not faring as well. I had taken Kensington’s
offer to stay at his home. Edwin Carr had moved out, perhaps to appease
Kensington, or perhaps because Anne tired of his company. The Kensingtons
seemed to have mended their relationship at any rate, so my stay with them was
not unpleasant. Being in the company of these two, while somewhat exciting due
to their social contacts and entertaining, was also once again fueling my desire
for gin. Kensington had access to the delightful curse due to his Dutch trading
contacts. I began a regular routine of drinking “Dutch Courage” every night –
then every day and night. I feared that I might just end up as a patient of Shepherd
at the Franciscan hospital like one of the homeless derelicts who frequented the
place. Then again, maybe being in his care would have been just what I needed.
Drinking together with the Kensingtons, however, gave me plenty of
time to plan with Andrew about his business plans for trading routes. He had
been refining it since we first discussed it months ago. It was what he called a
“trading triangle.” The plan looked like this:
The first leg of the triangle now would be from London to a port in West
Africa, on which his ships would carry supplies for sale and trade, such as
copper, cloth, trinkets, slave beads, guns, and ammunition. When the ship
arrived, its cargo would be sold or bartered for slaves. Kensington suggested that
slaves could be tightly packed like any other cargo to maximize profits.
On the next leg, ships would make the second journey, the “middle
passage,” from Africa to the New World. Once the slave ship reached the New
World, enslaved survivors would be sold in the Caribbean or the Americas.
The ships would then be prepared for return voyage by being thoroughly
cleaned, drained, and loaded with export goods for the third leg to their home
port. From the West Indies the main export cargoes were sugar, rum, and
molasses; from Virginia, commodities would be tobacco and hemp. The ship
would then return to London to complete the triangle.
In my haze, this plan looked both profitable and somewhat unsettling. I
did not have the same compunctions that Shepherd had about slavery, but I was
not sure that I wanted to be an active part of it. On the other hand, it certainly
looked profitable, and I was not in a position, nor frame of mind, to turn down a
lucrative plan.
Kensington was busy getting investors lined up for his new venture, as
well as pursuing Edwin Carr to captain the first voyage. He had reconciled with
Carr, and indeed Carr seemed repentant for his behavior with Anne. Perhaps that
was because Anne tired of him, or because he saw how this caused so many
problems with his business relationship with Kensington.
He also was interested in securing a crew that could depart as early as
June, 1621. One of my jobs would be to examine crew and slaves as medical
officer. Kensington assured me that I would not need to spend the rest of my life
on ships. He said that he would pay me well, and that with money I saved on a
few voyages I could buy in as a partner in the venture, and I could then do as I
pleased in England, or wherever I decided to live. It was not my desire to get
right back on a ship after my experiences on the Intrepid. However, three, maybe
four voyages would be enough for me to get the money to invest in the operation,
and then I could live a gentry man’s life out in the country. I finally had what
looked like a plan for my life.
I was not looking forward to telling Shepherd of my plan, but I felt the
need to do so. He had become as good a friend as I had ever had. Certainly, we
had shared some experiences that draw men closer together than many men ever
have.
I ventured to London to see Shepherd at the Franciscan hospital. Upon
greeting him, I was shocked to see that his hair and beard had grown longer. He
was starting to look like the people whom he served! He appeared somewhat
haggard, and thinner than I recalled. His dark brown eyes still had a depth and a

sparkle to them, but there was a sadness too, I was sure. As I approached him, I
saw Jacob Carr walking up to me as well. Carr smiled (another unusual mark),
and I managed a smile myself. Never trusting of Carr, I was wary of every
emotion he might display, figuring that my money purse might be missing if I
did not keep my hand on it.
“Dr. Greene,” he began, “I want to thank you for what you did that night
to save my sorry carcass from bleeding to death!”
“I was only a small part of how you got saved that night, Jacob,” I said
weakly.
“Well,” he said, “my life is different now than it was then, and I just
want to thank you for being a part of what happened.”
I was now getting very uneasy with the way that this conversation was
going. Jacob Carr was a brutish lout of a man, and this gentle talk was bound to
be a way to part me from my money, I was sure. Shepherd intervened.
“My good friend Dr. Greene, it is so good to see you! Tell me, what
brings you here?”
“Well,” I haltingly began, “I wanted to let you know that I have accepted
Andrew Kensington’s offer to be part of his new trading venture.”
“Tell me about it,” urged Shepherd.
I began to blanch a bit, fearful of being judged by a man whom I cared
for and trusted.
“I will be sailing on some routes on the Atlantic trading cargoes between
England, Africa, and the New World,” I said.
Immediately, Shepherd knew what I was up to. He simply looked at me
and said, “Luke,” the first time he had ever been so familiar with me, using my
given name, “I trust that you have given good consideration to this, and that it
will be good for you.” With that, he took me by the arm, and said, “Come, let
me show you around the place. You will be surprised with the changes we have
made here.”
I was shocked at the response, then relieved that he did not look down
on me, or shame me for a decision that must have been odious to him. This man
amazed me every time I encountered him!
Shepherd and Carr showed me a group of young street children who
were bringing in some wood for the fire. They looked much cleaner than the
children I had seen there months before. They had on clothing that was in
reasonably good repair, and there was not a stench pouring forth from the place.
Rows of straw mats held men who appeared to be patients of the place, but they
actually looked presentable. There was a sense of peace and calm in this bastion
of pain and sorrow that defied my understanding.
“How did you make these changes?” I asked.
Shepherd and Carr seemed not to notice the question, and they busied
themselves with greeting the patients and encouraging the children who were

busy raking straw, preparing food, and tidying up after a night of lodging the
street people.
“Joseph,” I asked again, “how did you make these changes here?”
Shepherd turned and said, “I did nothing, really. I simply challenged
people to love one another. We also gave people the dignity of helping one
another, having a mission larger than themselves.”
“Yes,” I said, “that is a wonderful thing, but how did you get money to
buy food, clothing, bandages, and all the other supplies that you have here now?”
“Dr. Greene,” he said, reverting back to a more formal, almost pedantic
tone, “you must stop acting as if God cannot provide when we ask Him for help.”
“All right,” I said, “how did God provide this?”
Shepherd replied, “Jacob Carr has some resources, and he knows many
people here. His help was invaluable in getting this hospital what it needed.”
“You mean Jacob Carr helped to provide this hospital with his own
money?”
I was too shocked for words.
“Yes,” Shepherd replied, “he has been most generous.”
I knew that Carr had made a bit of a fortune with all of his dealings,
thieving, extortion, skimming, and conniving. The idea of him giving it away
was more than I could imagine. However, it was true. Jacob Carr had given of
his own money, ill-gotten though it was, to help these street urchins, paupers,
and lunatics who frequented this hospital.
After looking around the hospital, I went to Joseph Shepherd, and
wished him the best in his endeavors. I told him that I would return after my first
voyage to see how he was doing in his work. I was amazed at what they had
accomplished. The Franciscan friars were busy looking after their regular guests,
and things seemed to be very peaceful. However, not everyone was so happy
with the situation. As I walked through the streets, I noticed that the street
hawkers and professional thieves were not happy that their legion of willing,
hungry, and ragged children was not available to do their bidding and stealing.
As evening approached, I hailed a hansom cab to take me to the Olde
Cheshire Cheese pub. I had frequented this pub in earlier days, and I had decided
that I deserved a good night’s drinking. Indeed, I reasoned that nearly every
night, but tonight there was a mix of excitement, loneliness, and uncertainty that
lurked as my dark companion. Perhaps some beer and perchance a woman would
give me some cheer to expel the unknown that awaited me.
I arrived at the pub at around 7 p.m., and I was hungry and thirsty. I
quickly downed a pint of ale, followed by a delicious stew. I was surrounded by
rough men and easy women who were eyeing their marks for the evening. I was
bound not to be one of them, but I did want some company, and the women were
friendly.
“Lonely, are ya?” asked a woman who had spied me from across the
room.

“Is it that obvious?” I mused aloud.
She smiled and said, “I’m Margaret, and I can make sure that you don’t
spend the night alone.”
“Margaret,” I said, “I would like someone to talk to, but I do not need
for them to spend the night.”
“We’ll see,” she said, and she proceeded to sit next to me. She was an
attractive woman, probably around my age, and free of the pocked face that one
was accustomed to oftentimes. She had red hair flowing in curls down her back.
Her gown showed a rather small bosom, but it was low enough to show that she
was interested in displaying what she had. Her manner was straightforward but
not harsh. She seemed to be a veteran of making men feel wanted and
comfortable, and so she began with me.
“What brings you here?” she asked.
“I simply want to have a good time tonight,” I said.
“I can show you that!” she said.
“Margaret,” I said, “If I wanted to take you to bed, you would follow me
right now, wouldn’t you?”
“Maybe I would,” she said.
“I will buy you drinks, and we can talk, and maybe at the end of the
night we can decide that,” I countered.
“Fair enough,” she said. Under her breath I thought I heard her say with
some disgust, “I get a talker!”
It’s not that I did not want to lay with her – I had done that before with
other women. I was just feeling a need to talk with someone, even if they did not
care so much about me or what I needed to say.
“Honey, if you just want to talk, I can listen to you. I’m just not used to
a man who would rather talk to me than have me spend the night. If you don’t
think I’m pretty enough…”
“Wait,” I interrupted her. “I didn’t say you weren’t pretty. Besides,
you’re just trying to work me here, aren’t you?”
She smiled at my candor, and said, “You might just be fun to talk to.”
I told her about my experiences of the past year – about the Intrepid,
Shepherd’s amazing medical techniques, Harvey’s ideas about the blood,
meeting King James and treating his illness (something I should not have done,
and would not have were I completely sober), and, finally, about my new
adventure with Kensington that was about to unfold. She was increasingly
fascinated by the stories, and before I knew it midnight was approaching. I was
starting to get tired, and I was ending my story when I mentioned Jacob Carr.
She stopped me when I mentioned his name.
“Jacob Carr?” she said.
“Yes, Jacob Carr. Do you know him?”
“Honey, I’ve known him dozens of times,” she said. “Roughest, vilest
man I’ve ever met!”

“Yes,” I said, “up until a few hours ago I would have said the same thing.
What I saw of him today was a different man.”
“I don’t believe it!” Margaret said emphatically.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but if you want to see it, come
with me tomorrow, and you can meet both Joseph Shepherd as well as Carr,” I
offered.
“I just think I will,” Margaret said. “Come on, spend the night with me
and we can go in the morning,” she offered.
“I hope you take no offense, but I will get a room by myself tonight, and
I will meet you here tomorrow morning at nine o’clock. Prepare to be surprised!”

Chapter 24
Margaret decided to accompany me to the hospital mission to see Joseph
and Jacob Carr. I was beginning to like Margaret’s simple, earthy ways, and she
was certainly not unattractive. Her profession notwithstanding, she was an
interesting woman, and certainly brighter than she let on. Women of her standing
were never encouraged to express any deep thoughts – maybe that would break
the mood, who knows. At any rate, I was interested in getting to know her a little
better and to perhaps help let her innate savvy and intelligence grow. Meeting
Joseph Shepherd indeed had that effect on people.
As we approached the hospital, Jacob Carr spotted Margaret, and
immediately moved toward her. He broke into a smile and moved to embrace
her. Margaret was a bit taken aback, but she was very good at making men feel
welcome, especially old, loyal customers, whether or not she really felt anything
at all, or even if she were repulsed by them. She laughed and exchanged the
embrace of Jacob. Somehow I sensed that this was not a lustful gesture, for there
was a warmth and innocence to it that made it seem simply like a kind and
welcoming gesture. Margaret seemed to feel this as well, and she smiled at Jacob
as he took her by the hand to introduce her to his new friend Joseph Shepherd.
Shepherd smiled at her as Carr introduced her as “an old friend.” I felt
the need to explain why I brought her to the hospital, but Carr was already on
that.
“Dr. Greene helped to save my life, Margaret, and so indeed has
Joseph,” he said. “I suspect that Dr. Greene has been shocked by the changes in
my life, and he wants to let you see who is responsible for that.”
I could not have expressed that any better than Carr. He evidently had
been learning a great deal from Joseph, and his demeanor and insightfulness
were truly transformed.
Joseph certainly knew Margaret’s background, but he could not have
been more accepting of her, showing her around the surroundings, which by now
had improved immensely since I first saw the place. Margaret seemed drawn to
some of the children who looked up at her with eyes of pain, and many with eyes
bereft of any human emotion. As she walked further, I saw tears roll down her
own eyes, which she now averted from most of the people around her.
Joseph broke the growing silence. “We have much left to do here,” he
said. I was saddened to hear that, even though I knew that he seemed drawn to
this godforsaken place. I was not drawn to this place, and I knew that my time
with Shepherd was growing short. I did have compassion for these people, and I
was starting to see that it was not a waste of time to help these people, even


though many were going to die shortly. I was hoping to begin a new venture in
my life, and I really wanted to share it somehow with Shepherd. Yet, a plan that
involved the slave trade was clearly something he would never do. I was shocked
out of my little reverie by Shepherd’s next statement.
“My dear Luke, I think I have been called to leave this place.”
“But you just said that there is much left to do here!” I said.
“Yes, there is a great deal left to do here, but Jacob has indicated that he
is planning to join the Franciscans, and use the rest of his fortune to help this
hospital. He will take the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, and live the
life of a monk. Jacob Carr has found his life’s work here.”
I was stunned to the core. Jacob Carr was going to be a monk? Jacob
Carr was giving up all his wealth for these people? Jacob Carr was taking a vow
of chastity, poverty, and obedience? Shepherd saw my expression, and simply
said, “We should rejoice when someone finds the reason for their life. You know
the Scripture says that ‘with God, all things are possible.’ This simply is another
example of that truth.”
Hearing this made me think harder about my own life. My decision
about my next life adventure was simply that – what adventure could I take and
make a fortune at the same time. I thought that was what life was about. Seeing
that Jacob Carr would make such a drastic decision, based upon a call of God in
his life, somehow made me feel very small. Very small indeed!
Margaret too was stunned by this remark of Shepherd. Jacob Carr then
broke in.
“Joseph is right in all that he said. I felt a strange sensation as I recovered
from my wound here at this hospital. I was cared for by people who probably
knew that I had been a thief, a murderer, a drunkard, and a womanizer of the
worst sort.”
Margaret winced as he continued.
“Yet they cared for me, nursed me to health, and showed compassion to
others like me. My mother had taught Edwin and me that God loves people
through other people. I did not understand that until I received that kind of love,
at a time when I was close to death. It touched my soul in a way that I cannot
explain, other than that I knew that I must live differently from that time on. So
I have discussed this with Joseph, and I have decided to stay here as he moves
on with God’s call in his life.”
“Joseph,” I blurted, “what is that call for you? Where are you going?”
“I have been talking with Dr. Harvey quite a bit lately, and he has an
interest in returning to Italy to do more study on the blood circulation theory.
While we are both quite convinced of the rightness of this theory, we want to
discuss it with others. Harvey is concerned that this break with Galen’s teachings
will be met with resistance. He wants reassurance of its validity. Sir Francis
Bacon has been so encouraged that he may travel with us. Our little experiment
with King James’s blood so fascinated him that he would like more interactions

with us and the science community in Italy. However, Bacon told me that there
are charges against him of accepting bribes while in office as chancellor.
Nonetheless, he said that his friend Ben Jonson may be persuaded to travel with
us.”
“May I join you?” I asked. Surely I did not just say that, I thought. That
was not even my voice, was it? Nonetheless, I must have said it, because
Shepherd quickly replied.
“I have been counting on that,” he said, almost matter- of- factly.
Margaret looked downcast. She had actually connected at some depth
with men who accepted her not for her body but for her entire being. I wanted to
think that she may even have had some interest in me. I certainly wanted to know
her better, but I felt that strange sensation that Carr must have felt. I needed to
follow a different path in my life, and, somehow, life with Kensington and the
British East India Company was not that path. Margaret would be left behind,
but not forever. My new adventure was just beginning.

 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.  Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.  Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit.  Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other.                                                                                        Galatians 5:22-26 (NIV)

Since today is Valentine’s Day, and today we talk a lot about love. I thought that it might be a good idea to look at what Paul said in his letter to the Galatians about love. He identified the “fruit of the Spirit”, meaning, that those who are living under the influence of God’s Spirit would naturally exhibit his characteristics. Actually, I have read that there are not nine fruits of the Spirit, but just one- love. That fruit is manifested in the following traits- joy, peace, forbearance (patience), kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

So, if one has the fruit of the Spirit, love, the rest of those characteristics are natural signs of the presence of love. It seems that there is only one fruit, and from it the rest of them flow.

Makes sense to me.

Prayer: Thank you Lord for your plan of giving us your Spirit, the Spirit of love, Amen.

 For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.  For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved                                                                                                      John 3:16-17 (NKJV)

We are approaching Valentine’s Day- a day set aside to celebrate love in relationships. Of course, the culture has marketed this day over the decades into opportunities for purchasing cards, flowers, dinners and other gifts. Nothing wrong with marketing, and I want our retailers, restaurants and small businesses to prosper. However, like anything else, the activities around the event have come to define it imprecisely.

The idea of loving relationships is easily confused by external events which, while associated, do not define what love really is. For example, I have put together a little chart which differentiates God’s plan for love and the world’s ideas of love.  

God’s Plan                                                                         World’s Ideas

Love is a decision which leads to joy           Love is an excitement of romantic feelings/chemistry     

Love is not withdrawn for certain behaviors           Love is based on behavior (quid pro quo)

Love is Safe/Secure                                       Always on the line (can “fall in or fall out”)

Love seeks to build up the other                    Self- gratifying (are my needs being met?)

These are just a few observations, and perhaps in a way a bit overdrawn. Yet, the point is that God’s love, and the kind of love he wants us to share, does not always line up with popular culture.

Here’s hoping that your Valentine’s Day is filled with the love of God!

Prayer: Thank you Lord for giving the greatest examples of loving us, Amen

I’ve tried everything and nothing helps. I’m at the end of my rope. Is there no one who can do anything for me? Isn’t that the real question?The answer, thank God, is that Jesus Christ can and does. He acted to set things right in this life of contradictions where I want to serve God with all my heart and mind, but am pulled by the influence of sin to do something totally different.                                              Romans 7:24-25 (The Message)

In talking with a client the other day about anxiety, we discussed the idea of “overthinking” some things. Anxiety causes us to do this – we overthink. Why? Anxiety is that nagging voice that tells us that our efforts are never quite enough. That, even with our best efforts, something will cause failure, pain, illness- you name it. So, we try to protect ourselves by thinking about all possible outcomes, and what we can do to control the situation.

Unfortunately, our thinking never really outstrips the “clever” anxiety. There is always something else to consider or worry about. Finally, we recognize that our best thinking becomes circular, and we end up right where we started. Still got the same problems, but now we have come up with a few more issues that are not soluble.

Paul had this same kind of thinking problem. He relates to us in Romans that he finally gets tired of the overthinking and hands over whatever is going on with that thinking to Jesus. Our own arrogance somehow leads us to try to “think our way out of problems”.

Sometimes, our best strategy is to surrender to the one who wants to, and is able to, take care of us.

Prayer: What a friend we have in Jesus…

“At the heart of racism is the religious assertion that God made a creative mistake when He brought some people into being.”                                                                                                                Friedrich Otto Hertz

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”                                                                                                                                              Martin Luther King, Jr.b

 In Christ’s family there can be no division into Jew and non-Jew, slave and free, male and female. Among us you are all equal. That is, we are all in a common relationship with Jesus Christ. Also, since you are Christ’s family, then you are Abraham’s famous “descendant,” heirs according to the covenant promises                                                                                                                                                       Galatians 3:28-29 (The Message)

The evil that is racism has existed as long as sin has existed in the world. The pervasive nature of racism looks a little different in each generation and in each country of the world, but rest assured, it has been with us as long as we have lived as the human race.

Indeed, there were times when it looked very different and was called different things. You know, lots of “isms”, but it comes down as people somehow discerning that one type of people is better than another. This is perpetuated by spurious social, economic, and even religious arguments and assertions. But it is the quote by Friedrich Hertz that, to me, seems to cut through the noise- “At the heart of racism is the religious assertion that God made a creative mistake when He brought some people into being”          

Of course, Hertz was exiled from Nazi Germany in 1933 for his thinking and writing. The “isms” can’t stand it when truth gets in the way of a convenient theory.

Martin Luther King offered a cure for racism- only love can drive out hate; only light can overcome darkness. So, as we are in the midst of Black History Month, celebrating the work of so many African-American heroes and innovators, let’s also remember that there is a cure for racism.                

 “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”          

Prayer: Lord, you have shown us that love triumphs over hate.Thank you for that marvelous plan, Amen                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good.Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.  Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.  Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.                                                                                                                              Romans 12:9-13 (NIV)

In reading the book of Romans, I see that the writer, Paul, encourages us to “honor one another.” One of the things that is so remarkable about the Bible is that it is a book which gives excellent instructions for how we should treat one another. While it is a guide to understanding God and his creation, and his relationship to that creation, it also is very practical advice for how to truly survive in a world that is not always easy to navigate.

In this passage, Paul is reminding believers that they are to honor one another. That is, we are to show respect for one another by listening carefully to what they say. We are to show that respect by giving eye contact, warmth, and affirmations where we can. We are to give others the benefit of the doubt and not be quick to judge them. We are to let them know that they are valued by us and by God. We are to recognize that they have gifts and strengths that are to be celebrated.

Those are ways that we can “Honor one another above ourselves.” Paul did not say to lower our own esteem, but rather, when we honor others, it lifts us up as well.

So, it appears that the Bible is a pretty good manual for counseling as well!

Prayer: Thank you Lord for the inspiration given in the Bible which helps our relationships, as well as giving honor to you, Amen.

Chapter 19

            The trip to London was pleasant, if uneventful compared to our recent adventures. Harvey and Shepherd were cementing a friendship based upon intellect and mutual respect. Harvey, the renowned physician to the court of King James, was drawn to Joseph Shepherd, a physician, philosopher, scientist, theologian, and world traveler. As they discussed the concept of the circulation of the blood in the human body, Shepherd seemed to speak with the authority of a scholar. Harvey began to write as they spoke. I have seldom seen such animated conversation. My medical training seemed insignificant compared to their lofty discussions. I satisfied myself listening to their discourse. Kensington, bored by the conversations, alternately slept or read through reports he had collected from voyages of East India Company ships. He was particularly interested in the tobacco crops growing in Virginia, and he was planning to find other areas in the world where this miracle crop might grow.

            We arrived in London on the evening of the 5^th of September, 1620. We disembarked from our carriage at Lord Kensington’s estate in West London. We were greeted by a group of servants who quickly scooped our bags from the carriage. We were led into the entry room, where we found Lady Kensington and Edwin Carr laughing over a bottle of Madeira.

“Andrew!” greeted Anne Kensington. “I see you have brought guests.”

“Yes,” he replied, “I see that you have kept yours with you.”

“Edwin Carr is not a guest here,” said Anne. “He lives here.” She giggled a drunken little giggle. Andrew had seen this many times before.

            “I shall have the servants prepare a feast,” said Anne.

“Spare them the trouble,” said Lord Kensington. “We will do well with brandy and some eel pie.”

“Just the brandy will be fine with me,” I retorted. “I am ready to go to bed and get some real sleep for a change.”

Shepherd, Harvey, and I sipped some brandy, talked with Edwin Carr about his voyage, which had been strangely intertwined with ours, and retired for a restful night’s sleep.

I suspected that Lord and Lady Kensington’s night was not as peaceful as ours. Raised voices could be heard throughout the spacious house as the Kensingtons fought over her latest new friend who would share the house. Edwin Carr was not the first man to have spent time under Lord Kensington’s roof, and this was not especially a secret in London social circles. Lord Kensington’s anger at his wife seemed less about her lover than about the increasingly brazen manner in which she flaunted such affairs. Whereas in the past she had been somewhat more discreet about such liaisons, she now seemed almost excited to bring such affairs to his attention. For his part, Lord Kensington seemed resigned to her behavior, but embarrassed by her disregard for whatever was left of his public image. Indeed, Lord Kensington had never been lacking for female companionship either, but Anne’s insistence upon equal consideration for outside lovers rankled him to no end.

Harvey and Shepherd were anxious to get back to Harvey’s office and laboratory. I was simply anxious to get on to a new adventure – something to distract me from my growing sense that my life was increasingly without direction or meaning. I had to admit that seeing Harvey and Shepherd’s animated medical discussions both shamed me and sparked a renewed interest in my need for continued education in these advanced ideas.

Shepherd, ever the gentleman, invited me to accompany them to Harvey’s laboratory the next day. I accepted the invitation. We embarked the next morning by carriage to London Square. I was struck by the busy streets, the sounds of street vendors hawking their wares, and the smells that emanated from the alleys. The stench of human waste, the entrails of animals that had been discarded by butchers, and the rotting fish dumped by vendors after the day’s sales were completed came together in my nostrils. Indeed, having spent the last few months at sea aboard the Intrepid had almost inured me to such smells, but I was struck nonetheless.

The colors of the cloth for sale by some merchants caught my eye, and the sound of languages foreign to me all turned my head in this fascinating city. Perhaps the excitement of London could renew my spirit.

Shepherd too was drinking in this mixture of sounds, smells, and color, but he seemed troubled by the street urchins who pounced on us for money at each step. They knew the territory, and they knew that we were visitors – perhaps by our continual gawking at each new sound. These children were dressed in rags, mostly. They seemed to have renewed energy each time they saw a new mark. Shepherd was drawn to them, and he quickly dispensed what few coins he had to the first children who approached him.

“Best not to do that,” cautioned Harvey. “They will never leave you alone. Worse, you’ll be marked as one with money, and you will be dragged into the nearest alley as soon as you’re not alert.”

“I will take that chance,” said Shepherd. “These children must live a terrible life.”

“It is the life of this city,” said Harvey. “They survive somehow.”

We spent several hours touring Harvey’s office and laboratory. There were the usual specimens, skeletons, chemical solutions, books, and other academic papers. However, I was fascinated by the odd-looking tube of metal and glass sitting prominently near the window. I asked Harvey about it, and he seemed proud to discuss it.

“That is my magnification scope,” he said. “With it, I can see minute parts of cells in the body. For example, I can see that in the blood there seem to be bodies of various shapes and sizes. I am looking forward to having Professor Janssen build me a better scope when I see him in Holland next year.”

Harvey offered to let me look through the end of the scope. I looked at a drop of water, and I could see small bodies wiggling in the drop. The water itself seemed to teem with life, unseen by anyone else. I felt the awe of discovery wash over me as I pondered a new world that I had never before conceived of. I believed that I was in the presence of something sacred, yet somehow very mundane. It was, after all, a simple drop of water, yet it seemed to be the very microcosm of a new world of discovery and hope.

That evening, Kensington took us to the Boar’s Head Tavern, where we drank some fine ale and ate a hearty stew. The food, while heavy and filling, was not the main attraction of the pub. The people who were in the place were a lively mixture of merchants, sailors, and even the occasional member of Parliament. Women who were looking for business seemed to know exactly which men to approach. There was no shortage of takers for what they were selling. Smoke filled the air, as that new fad seemed to be becoming widespread. At first, I choked on the smells in the air. Gradually, I became accustomed to it, and, eventually, enticed by it. Kensington pointed to this room and explained to us his desire to capitalize on the habit.

“These people are paying a lot of money for tobacco, and I see more and more converts to it,” he said. “I believe that we can dedicate a fleet of ships to its import from America. I would like you and Dr. Shepherd to help me in that venture.”

Shepherd answered Kensington quickly. “I see many better uses for shipping than to import tobacco,” he said. “There are some interesting food products which I believe will improve the health of the people of England. Tobacco is not one of them.”

Kensington replied, “Dr. Shepherd, I am not in the health business, I am in the business of making money.”

“Yes, that is true,” replied Shepherd, “but I am in the business of making people healthy. Therefore, you will need to find someone else for this venture.”

“So be it,” said Kensington. “If you do not wish to make money, you have no need of me, it seems. Making money is what I do best.”

“Is it what you live for?” asked Shepherd.

“I suppose it is,” said Kensington. It seemed that Kensington had never considered that there was any other reason to live, so he was puzzled by Shepherd’s question. I felt a bit awkward at this exchange. Lord Kensington was, after all, our host, and we were all faring quite nicely from his ability to make money. I was hoping that Kensington did not believe that Shepherd spoke for me also in his thinking. I was in need of a living, and if Lord Kensington saw fit to employ me in his business, I would not turn him down.

“I believe it is time to go home, gentlemen,” said Kensington. “Would you like to spend another night at my home?”

Harvey responded that he would be happy to have Shepherd and me stay with him in his quarters for the next few days until we had better plans. Shepherd agreed to stay with Harvey, but I felt that perhaps the time had come for me to be thinking about a future with Kensington’s offer.

“I would be most honored to take your offer,” I said to Kensington. Kensington seemed pleased. I believed that he wanted someone else to come home with him rather than to face Anne alone. I could be a good distraction for him.

As we got up to go, we heard a great commotion from the next room. Shouts and cursing filled the air, followed by the crash of a table and breaking glass. A scream pierced above all the din. At that moment, a bloody man came running out to the innkeeper.

“There’s a man been stabbed in the belly in there,” he said. At that, he fled the pub. He was followed quickly by several other men. Shepherd and I went to the next room to see if we could help the victim.

We came upon a scene of chaos. A man lay on the ground in a growing pool of blood. Blood was pouring from his stomach area, and he was moaning and writhing in pain. We approached him, and he looked at us wide-eyed and frightened. I quickly grabbed a cloth from a nearby table and held it to his stomach. He was not a very stout fellow, so I tied the cloth around him to try to staunch the blood flow. We had to put several layers of cloth on the wound as each layer became soaked with blood. It became clear that he would quickly bleed to death if we could not control his bleeding.

“Bring him to my office,” said Harvey. “I will try to save him by suturing the wound.”

We bound the cloths around the man as tightly as we dared, and there seemed to be some success in slowing the flow of blood. However, without treatment, I felt that he would be dead within the hour, if not sooner. We carried him in a large cloth, and began to take him out of the pub. Just then, Lord Kensington cried out, “Good God, that is Jacob Carr!”

Carr looked up at him and smiled weakly.

“I am at your service,” he said.

The trip to Harvey’s office took almost twenty minutes, and Carr was starting to lose consciousness. We carried him up to Harvey’s office and placed him on a table. Harvey seemed confident, even in this, by my estimation, hopeless situation.

“We need to tie him down to the table,” said Harvey.

We quickly secured some straps and began to tie him down. By now, Carr offered little resistance, being only barely conscious.

“We must open the wound further, find the vessels which are severed, and tie them off. I pray that there is not too much internal damage,” said Harvey. As we took off layers of bandages, we saw that he was still bleeding, but with much less force. “Indeed,” said Harvey, “his blood volume is so depleted that there is evidently little pressure left.”

Harvey opened the wound so that he could reach inside to the bleeding vessels. We had threaded a needle with catgut, and Harvey proceeded to tie off the bleeding vessels. He closed the wound quickly to minimize the suffering of the awakening Carr.

“I believe that he will survive if he can avoid the fevers which often accompany such wounds,” said Harvey. Shepherd and I concurred that he could survive the wound, but perhaps not the complications that often presented in these situations.

“We must take him to a hospital,” I suggested. “The Franciscans care for the poor and the sick in a small hospital next to the monastery.”

We allowed Carr to rest for a while as we discussed our plans. Lord Kensington had gone to the constable to gather townspeople to pursue the assailants of Jacob Carr. We had no illusion that the assailants would be brought to justice. Indeed, Jacob Carr had so many connections with violent men, it would be hard to track them down.

Kensington returned as we were loading Carr on to the wagon.

“What are you doing with Jacob Carr?” he asked. Kensington seemed surprised that Carr had survived.

“We are taking him to the Franciscans so that they can provide medical care while he recovers,” I said.

Kensington said, “They may be too full with street people, beggars, and lunatics. However, I will see if I can arrange transport to the Franciscan mission,” Kensington said.

Carr was a frightful sight indeed. Matted blood covered his hairy chest and stomach. His trousers were soaked with blood. Bandages covered the ends of catgut sutures, which protruded from his closed wound. Carr was moaning now and asking for a drink. He looked like one of the casualties of the battlefield that I had seen in years past.

Kensington had secured a hearse from the mortuary for the trip to his manor. What irony that a hearse afforded the softest ride for a man in distress!

Shepherd was curious about the Franciscans and the work at the mission. Shepherd asked if I would show him the monastery, so I agreed to take him there. It had been some years since I had ventured to that part of London, or seen the monastery, so I too had some curiosity about the place.

We arrived at the monastery just before dawn. Some of the friars were beginning to make breakfast for those who were in their care. As we walked through the piles of clothing slumped on the floor, we came to realize that some of these “piles” were children, curled up in a little ball to stay warm. An early autumn chill added to the misery of the damp, dark surroundings. The friars were coaxing a fire back to life in the hearth, and a large kettle was taking its place on the rack above the fire. Some of the figures on the floor started to rouse, and it was only then that we saw eyes staring out from under the rags.

Many of the men had been there for some time. There were those who were sick and had come there to die. Some were just those who had no other shelter, and had begged the friars to provide for them. In all, it was a sad and miserable lot, and were it not for the Franciscans’ charity they would be under bridges, on the street, or dead already.

I noticed that Joseph Shepherd was very silent. He took in these sights without comment, but his sadness and displeasure were evident. He seemed indignant that these people were relegated to such a state.

After a long silence, Shepherd said, “Dr. Greene, I believe that I will stay here and offer my services for a while.”

“You cannot be serious!” I said. “Lord Kensington has offered us a position with the East India Company. That is an opportunity that we can hardly ignore.”

Shepherd looked at me as if I had not heard him.

“Dr. Greene,” he said, “this too is an opportunity.”

                       Chapter 20

People seemed to be naturally attracted to Joseph Shepherd. His compassion was evident in his exchanges with people who were hurting, diseased, or broken in some way. Yet he had the capacity, and the tendency, to be ferociously honest. With someone like Kensington or the notorious seaman North, Shepherd would not fail to point out the error of their ways, and he did not much care about the consequences of it. I was not sure if he were simply fearless, or perhaps a bit of a lunatic. His wisdom and insight of knowing how to read people were uncanny. I knew that I needed to be around him to learn more of such things. I was always a cynic, seeing the worst in people, or perhaps just expecting the worst. Nonetheless, people never let me down in my expectations – they always seemed to live down to them.

I left Shepherd to return to the Kensington manor, and I told him that I would return to see him the next day. Shepherd nodded, but he seemed to be disappointed that I had chosen to go with Lord Kensington. Shepherd remained with the friars and planned to minister to those children who were sick and dying. I admired his compassion, but I questioned his decision. The opportunity to have a position with the East India Company seemed too good to turn down.

The ride to the Kensington Manor was uneventful. Upon arrival, I was met by Edwin Carr. Evidently, Kensington had seemed to relish giving him the news that his brother had been stabbed at the pub. Edwin pointed out that Kensington was a man of small compassion, and an even smaller sense of civility. Carr was not surprised.

“I cannot tell you how often that fool gets in fights!” he said.

“His injuries are very serious,” I noted. I continued, “We left him at the Franciscan monastery, and the friars are attending to him.”

“Well,” said Carr, “I hope that being around the good men of God will do him some good.”

Anne Kensington appeared as Carr was speaking. She was wearing a wine-stained gown, and had evidently consumed a good bit more than she had managed to spill on herself. Kensington turned to me and said, “To think that I married her and gave her a title! And Edwin Carr, a man who I loved and promoted, is no better than her. There is simply no one I can trust anymore.” Kensington had a strange sense of resignation in his voice. He had started his sentence in anger, and he finished it in a trailing and sad voice. “Let us leave these two together and go back to London.”

With that, he picked up his hat, grabbed me by the arm, and led me out of the Manor. I did not mind the decision. I had no interest in seeing the sad tale unfolding in front of me. I also did not like the prospect of seeing a future business partner like Edwin Carr treating Kensington in this way. For that matter, I was a bit worried that I may be out of the business before I even got into it. I had not even been officially hired by the East India Company yet, and I already began to have doubts about the sour side of the business. Kensington was rapidly changing his mood once again. He seemed invigorated with new ideas, and he wanted to share them with me at a pub. We proceeded to make the trip back to London, only this time Kensington was talking constantly about new business ideas. He would find another captain to sail for him, and he would concentrate upon trade with the New World. Tobacco would be his main import, and he would introduce it to Africa on a scale never before seen. Tobacco for slaves would be the plan. He would send a fleet of ships to the New World and begin the tobacco business there in earnest. When sufficient crops were established, he would export the tobacco to England, where he would have no shortage of customers in the pubs and markets. He would make huge profits, to be used to purchase African slaves for export to America, making another fortune in that. Those slaves would be sent to America to work the tobacco fields under the direction of colonists who would be tied to the East India Company. He was actually planning a huge enterprise as we rode to London. There seemed to be an eerie calm about him as he spoke. While I was not the canniest business man, even I could see the potential profits to be made in this venture.

We arrived in London just in time for supper. By now, Kensington was feeling very good about himself. He had launched into a creative business venture in order to cleanse his mind of the pain he had experienced in his own home. Indeed, business seemed to be this man’s salvation.

“Let me buy you a fine dinner to celebrate our new business plan!” he exclaimed.

“What part do I have in the plan?” I asked. I had heard nothing about my involvement in the plan, and I did not have anything particularly helpful to offer it in any case.

“My dear Dr. Greene, you may be the only man I can trust anymore,” he said loudly. “You may have any part in it that you choose. You are an educated man, a doctor, surely there is a place in this for you!”

I did not know whether to be excited about this or apprehensive. It could just be the ramblings of a vengeful man. It could have just been his creative mind bubbling with ideas to entertain himself (and perhaps me too). Or, this could be the chance of a lifetime to get in on a moneymaking plan for the ages.

The next morning, after we had eaten (and drunk) of England’s finest fare, I decided to go to the friary hospital to check on my friend Shepherd. The day dawned with an absolute glow. The mid-September morning was clear and crisp. The Inn we had secured for the night was of the highest quality, and its new straw mattresses and down pillows offered us a good night’s sleep. I decided to take an early morning walk through London to visit the friary. Once again I was struck by the squalor of the streets and the smells of the alleys. Beggars, thieves, and prostitutes had been out late the night before, working the neighborhoods for their livelihood. The early morning stirrings were led by the fishmongers and vegetable sellers. Fish were usually sold by late morning to the wise shoppers who grabbed them fresh before the sun worked its havoc on them. The smell of fresh bread from the bakeries stirred my hunger, even though I had eaten quite enough just hours before. Nonetheless, the smell of fresh bread can do wonders on the senses. I bought several loaves of bread, and I purchased a dozen fresh cod to take to the friary. I knew that food there was always welcome, and I wanted to celebrate what could be a new business life for me.

As I entered the mission, Joseph Shepherd was busy tending to several children who were coughing loudly.

“Joseph,” I called, “I bring you breakfast!”

“Dr. Greene!” he called. “We will be happy to eat that breakfast.”

Indeed, as soon as I came closer, I was surrounded by children, who all could walk. The smell of fresh bread had excited them as well, and I was set upon by the hungry patients. Joseph patiently waited until the bread had been parceled out, and he brought the fish to the kitchen area where he deftly filleted the cod, laid them on some glowing coals, and served up a breakfast feast to the patients, residents, and friars. I was struck that these dozen cod and the loaves of bread were able to serve the gathering of people. Yet, everyone seemed satisfied after the meal was consumed.

Just two days before, Harvey had persuaded the Franciscans to take in Jacob Carr for further care. Harvey had escorted Carr back into the care of the larger community that the Franciscans had to offer. He further wanted to remove himself from Anne Kensington and Edwin Carr.

I began to ask Joseph about his plans. He had alluded to the idea of staying at the mission to serve the poor and the sick who regularly populated the place.

“Joseph,” I said, “you are a very talented physician, an educated man. Do you plan to stay here and tend to these few sick people, or will you take on a larger task, worthy of your talent?”

Joseph mused at this statement.

“Is there a higher calling than caring for these people?” he asked.

“Well, yes, I believe so,” I replied. “You can stay here and serve dozens, or you can take Dr. Harvey’s offer to meet the King of England. Perhaps the King will give you a mission to serve people in the entire country!”

We had received the invitation from Dr. Harvey, but we had not yet been able to secure a time to meet King James. I felt that the least I could do would be to see to it that Shepherd got the opportunity to meet the King. I decided to encourage such a meeting again, and I would ask my new associate, Andrew Kensington, to arrange for Dr. Harvey and Joseph Shepherd to meet with the King. Adventures this large were now starting to seem like possibilities again to me.

                       Chapter 21

William Bradford was busy making final arrangements to set sail on the Mayflower. He seemed to have a new resolve, and more confidence after having discussed his mission with Joseph Shepherd. He was aware that this mission was much larger than himself, and that all he could do was to prepare as best he knew how, and to pray as hard as he knew how. With that, he was ready.

Alvin Toll was encouraging Bradford to leave as soon as possible, because he was fearful that the people of Plymouth were getting restless with so many people of controversy still in his port. Toll was ever mindful of the mood of people, and the political implications of his every move. Having these religious zealots out of his port would certainly not hurt.

On September 16^th, at 5:30 A.M., Bradford and the Mayflower pushed out of Plymouth and slipped into the ocean. It was at that exact moment that William Harvey was awakened out of a deep sleep, having experienced a dream of staggering proportions.

Harvey dreamt that a small sailing vessel was coursing through a labyrinth of tubes. The vessel went round and round in an endless journey, always arriving at the same place. It would pass through cliffs and canyons, valleys, narrow openings, sometimes quickly, and at other times slowed to a crawl, but always moving. Always the vessel returned to the same place after the journey, only to begin the trip once again. It was only when the liquid that the vessel sailed upon turned a bright red that Harvey woke with a start. He realized that the liquid was blood, and the vessel was flowing through the human body. The tubes were veins and arteries, and the landscape was the inner workings of the human organs.

Harvey had been up the night before, reading and checking through his latest papers, and talking about them late into the night with Joseph Shepherd. He realized that this revelation confirmed his beliefs about the circulation of the blood. He had reasoned that certain blood vessels had the job of carrying the blood away from the heart, which pumped the blood at the regular pace of its beat. Other vessels, which had tiny valves to direct the course of the flow only one way, carried the blood back to the heart for the return journey. His work with the magnification scope had revealed these little valves, but he could not understand the function until this moment. Harvey had conjectured over the years, as early as 1616, that his theory of the circulation of the blood in the body was a superior explanation of blood movement and function than the traditional theory by the ancient philosopher-physician Galen. Yet he had been somewhat circumspect about how he shared his beliefs, and the audiences who might receive the ideas. Now he was convinced that he had been given a definitive revelation about the theory.

Harvey immediately began to make notes on his dream, and to write out more of his beliefs on the circulation system. He couldn’t wait to share this information with Shepherd. Shepherd seemed to be much more willing than other men of learning to discuss this issue in such an open and creative manner. In fact, it was Shepherd who told Harvey to not restrain his thinking to the conventional medical thought of the day. Shepherd seemed to think that Harvey was on to something extraordinary, and he encouraged Harvey to be bold in his theories.

“Joseph,” Harvey called to a sleeping Shepherd. “I just had the most extraordinary dream!”

Shepherd turned over out of his sleep and said, “Is it about the circulation of the blood?”

“Well, yes,” Harvey stammered. “How could you possibly know that?”

“I simply made a guess,” Shepherd said. “You were up late last evening talking about it, and the fact that you woke me to share the dream just made sense. You have talked of little else for the past two days. Are you now convinced of your theory?”

“Yes, I am,” replied Harvey confidently.

“We are indeed fearfully and wonderfully made by our heavenly Father,” said Shepherd.

“This is indeed a great day,” said Harvey. “Today we shall be honored to meet King James.”

Shepherd was glad to be able to meet King James, but not especially excited. Shepherd wanted to ask the King if he knew of the extent of the plight of the poor and sick who populated the streets of London.

“Dr. Greene, I trust that you have prepared to meet with the King,” said Harvey.

“Well, yes, I suppose I have,” I ventured. Actually, I did not know what I would say to the King. There was so much to say, and yet so little. I could talk for hours of our adventure on the Intrepid, but I did not know if he would really care to hear our tale of woe. It certainly affected the kingdom very little, I should think. Perhaps the damage to an expensive ship of the battle line would bother him, and perhaps he would have thought little about it. I was more interested in extending whatever business career I might have by aligning with Andrew Kensington, and discussing the burgeoning trade with the New World. I had not discussed the plan with Shepherd, because I was certain that he would not endorse it. Too bad, because there was money to be made in it, I was sure.

Upon our arrival at the Court of King James, we were met by Robert Carr, one of the King’s gentlemen. Robert, cousin of Edwin and Jacob Carr, was one of the King’s favorites, and often spent the night as his gentleman chamberlain. Robert was cordial and welcoming to us.

“Perhaps your visit is well-timed,” he told Harvey upon greeting him. “The King seems to have taken ill for the past few days, and he looks quite pale and weak.”

“Then we shall be glad to tend to him,” said Harvey. “In fact, the King will be graced with three physicians, for Dr. Greene and Dr. Shepherd are my new traveling companions.”

I noted that Harvey too had now recognized the medical talent of my friend Shepherd. Indeed, I was coming to believe that Shepherd had access to more healing power than both Harvey and me.

Upon coming into the King’s chambers, I was struck by the beauty of the palace. Simple in many ways, the halls were lined with portraits of James and his Scottish ancestors. Signs of the burgeoning trade of the Kingdom included tapestries from India, silks from China, and books from Persia. The smells of cloves and cardamom wafted from the kitchen, where various pies were cooling.

We were greeted by George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, who was attending to the King. The King was in his bed, weak from this unknown bout of illness that had caused him to quickly lose his strength and vigor.

“You may sit,” said the King.

We took seats around the walls of the spacious room. Light was streaming in from the windows on two sides of the room, brightening an otherwise gloomy setting. The Duke of Buckingham took the lead in asking Dr. Harvey to diagnose the King’s malady. Harvey went up to the King, asking permission to begin his examination. The King quickly assented, and Harvey began to feel the King’s head for fever, and to palpate under his arms and around his neck.

Dr. Harvey made notes as he continued the examination. He asked the King and Mr. Villiers about how long the symptoms had been persisting, and they indicated that there had been a gradual weakening. The King’s appetite had been diminishing over the past few weeks, along with his energy. During the absence of Dr. Harvey, the King had been attended by a physician, a Dr. Jones from the Royal Society, Villiers noted casually.

“What treatment did he begin with His Majesty?” Harvey asked.

“I believe that he treated my lord with some herbs, and he bled him several times when the King suffered from fever,” replied Villiers.

“Herbs?” asked Harvey.

Villiers, somewhat proud of his memory and attentiveness, replied, “Yes, milk thistle made into a tea.”

“Nothing else?” queried Harvey.

“No,” said Villiers.

Harvey looked over at Shepherd and me – a look that asked us for our input without directly asking us. I started to defer to Shepherd as had become my new, albeit somewhat disconcerting habit, but Shepherd prodded me to answer. In truth, I had become good at recognizing possible side effects from herbal medicines, and I suggested that milk thistle could cause some problems with the bowels, possibly diarrhea, which could, over a period of time, weaken the patient. Harvey asked the delicate question about the King’s bowel habits, and Villiers did not flinch. He responded affirmatively, that the King had experienced diarrhea recently, actually a “bloody flux,” he called it. Feeling more confident, I then suggested that Dr. Jones may have been concerned about the King’s liver. I knew that milk thistle was used often to treat liver problems. Harvey and Shepherd concurred, and suggested that the treatment may have been appropriate, but that the bleeding concerned them. Why would Dr. Jones bleed him? Villiers picked up on our conversation and stated that the King had a fever, and that Dr. Jones felt that bleeding would help. Indeed, the King felt some relief after the bleedings, but he also then felt weaker.

Shepherd then spoke up. “Dr. Harvey, may I suggest that we use some of your new equipment?”

“Yes, what did you have in mind?” Harvey asked.

“I think that your magnifying scope may be of some help,” he replied. I certainly had no idea what Shepherd was talking about, but I had learned from being around him that it was usually a good idea to follow his lead. Harvey too seemed to respond without question to Shepherd’s idea, so we simply asked how he would like to proceed.

Shepherd said, “This will involve all of us.”

Now I was really very curious, but I also had a sense of excitement. All of us were involved in the medical care of the King of England. Selfishly, I was looking for some of the reflected glory that might come with helping the King in a medical problem. Shepherd laid out his plan for us as we left the room. He began to explain that we would require a sample of blood from all of us – Shepherd, Harvey, me, as well as the King. He would then look at the blood in the scope that Hans Jannsen had built for Harvey. Shepherd believed that we would be able to see differences in our blood and that of the King. He reasoned that there was a problem in the blood of the King. Indeed, Dr. Jones had determined that the King had a liver problem. Shepherd believed that if the liver were the problem, the blood would be affected. Indeed, perhaps the blood itself was the problem, causing the liver problems.

Harvey and I looked at one another with expressions that stated our disbelief, shock, and even the allowance that Shepherd could be a genius. Villiers, now a bit suspicious, took on his role of regal protector. He was following us as we left the room, and overheard some discussion about blood samples.

“Gentlemen,” he began, “I believe that the King cannot stand another bloodletting. You physicians are just short of charlatans, I do declare!”

Shepherd interrupted, “My dear Duke of Buckingham, I appreciate your concern and protection of your King. You are to be commended for your diligence and care of His Highness. I am not suggesting another bloodletting. In fact, that is the very last thing that should be done. We will only require a small amount of blood from him. Actually, if you would like to participate, all of us will be submitting a small amount of our blood for the procedure I want to try. You may help by giving some of your blood as well.”

Villiers was taken aback by such a suggestion, but he did not discount the idea immediately.

 Shepherd had once again showed his ability to engage people to a higher cause. He continued to amaze me, but I was not prepared for what was soon going to happen.

As he finished saying this, a local official appeared, bowed politely, and said, “My daughter has just now died. If you come and touch her, she will live.” Jesus got up and went with him, his disciples following along.                                                                                                                                                                           Matthew 9:18-19 (The Message)

Harry Harlow was a renowned psychologist in the early 20th century. He is best known for his research with young rhesus monkeys and their attachments with their mothers. Harlow separated the young monkeys from their actual mothers, and began a series of experiments.

He had found that the young monkeys, when confronted with novel changes in their environment, or facing a fear producing situation, would immediately run to surrogate mothers, which were inanimate “look-alikes” of monkeys, covered in cloth and wool.  After the comfort gained from cuddling these surrogates, the young monkeys would once again venture to meet the changed environment in which they were placed. Harlow also found that the monkeys quickly were able to determine “their own surrogate mothers” from others that were made up slightly differently.

Then he determined to find out the priorities the monkeys would place on the surrogate mothers. In one variation of his famous experiments, he rigged up a “wire surrogate mother”, literally made of chicken wire and other materials, and he placed a bottle of milk with a nipple in the breast of the wire surrogate. He also placed in the vicinity, a surrogate that was made of wire, but covered in wool and cloth, and with no milk. He found that the baby rhesus monkeys preferred the comfort of the cloth and wool surrogates over the “mothers” who had milk.  

I began thinking of this old experiment as our COVID-19 experience, and its social distancing requirements, extends toward the one-year mark. The results of my personal experience are simply this.

I miss hugging my friends.

Prayer: Lord you have made us to connect with others in every way. We pray for a speedy resolution of this pandemic to once again be close to those whose presence we miss, Amen

Anyone who meets a testing challenge head-on and manages to stick it out is mighty fortunate. For such persons loyally in love with God, the reward is life and more life.

James 1:12 (The Message)

How do we deal with challenges?

I am recalling an old psychological experiment from many years ago that went something like this. A group of young men were convened on a basketball court for the purpose of a study on how we challenge ourselves. The participants did not know the nature of the study, and they were simply told to position themselves anywhere on the court and take shots at the basket. They would be evaluated on the results, but the young men were not certain of what those evaluations might be based on. They were given basketballs, and told to take shots at the basket. They were given a number of basketballs, and a set time during which to shoot.

The breakdown of the study ended up with three types of individual cohorts. The first group were those who stood under the basket and shot layups the whole time. They wanted to be sure that they had the best chance for scoring with the most consistency. Another group went beyond the three-point circle and heaved up shots (even though in those days, there was no “3 point circle”). A final group went to areas around the “key” and challenged themselves with shots that were makeable, but challenging.

The researchers summed up the groups in terms of their willingness to challenge themselves. The “layup group” were very conservative, non-risk takers. They went for the “sure thing”.

The “long-shot group” were those willing to risk, but were hedging their bets about being judged as not competent, feeling that their long-range shots would not be held against them if they missed.

The last group, the ones that gave themselves a good challenge that was not overly easy, nor ridiculously hard, were those that researchers found to be the most independent and confident in themselves.

I find this research interesting, and indicative of human nature in all its forms. Some of us are fearful and want to ensure success or affirmation with as little emotional risk as possible. Some of us are willing to challenge ourselves, even if it means that we might fail and be judged by others.

I’m not sure where I might fit, and it probably depends on the circumstances.

Where would this little experiment find you? Just a little food for thought!

Prayer: Lord, help us to challenge ourselves in order to grow, Amen