As
I see it ...
17th
August, 2008
I
read the other day that the American fundamentalist group “Focus on
Family” have urged anyone who will listen, to pray for torrential rain. On the face of it you would think, “Ah they’re
responding to the drought situation.” But
alas no! The call for prayer was directed
to the open-air acceptance speech of Barack Obama scheduled to be made
in Denver Colorado on 28th of August. And I shake my head in
absolute bemusement at the theological mindset behind enlisting God’s
help in a political campaign. What is even sadder is that Focus on
Family will have millions of adherents that will probably be praying
madly on the 28th to bring about divine intervention.
Such
behaviour is only possible if you live in a closed system. A closed
system is any system sealed off from the outside world, where the
internal logic of the group makes complete sense only to the group. And an even more extreme example was on show
last Monday night with the Four Corners report on a doomsday cult,
again in the US, that forecasted the end of the world to occur at
midnight on the 31st of August 2007, a date prophesied by
the leader of the cult, who chose to be known as Michael the Messiah.
The film crew making the documentary were not part of the closed
system, and of course were interested to see what would happen at
midnight on the 31st, so they arrived at the gate of the
property to hear, on the stroke of midnight, a lamb’s horn being
sounded followed by the cult members milling around and shouting “free
at last” and generally praising God. It mattered not that they and the
world was still there –Michael had foretold the end of the world and so
it must be. Michael was free to continue to prey on young
impressionable women, for that in the main was the make up of his cult. To anyone outside the cult it was clear that
their leader was engaged in self-serving behaviour, and indeed Michael
has been charged with a number of offences by the authorities in New
Mexico.
As I see it, however, in any organisation,
even conventional churches, there is a danger of operating in a closed
system, all the more so when there is a strong charismatic leader at
the head. There is always a need for Christian faith communities to be
transparent, and to be faithful to our true leader, Jesus the Christ.
And for me the best reality check is the one that Jesus himself applied
– “By their fruits so shall you know them.” It’s not what we say that
is real, it is what we do. And what we do
should always be informed by the loving gospel of Jesus Christ.
Tony Duncan
10th
August, 2008
On
Wednesday of this week our middle daughter obtained a divorce. It
marked the formal ending of a relationship that went back over ten
years. As anyone who has gone through the painful process knows, it is
a time of sadness, and often the divorce itself is accompanied by a
strong feeling of emptiness. Here is a legal acknowledgement that a
relationship with all its dreams, all its hopes, has not worked. And
whilst it frees up individuals to start afresh, I believe that there is
always grief for the death of the relationship, a grief that extends
further than the two people involved.
So it
was with some awed bemusement that I received my daily email from
Eureka Street – the Jesuit web publication, that had an article by
Brian Doyle entitled “Funeral for a Marriage.” Let me quote some of the
article to you.
About
240,000 Australians are born every year. We have a sacrament to welcome
them. About 130,000 Australians die
every year. We have a sacrament to say farewell. About 100,000
Australians get married every year. We have a sacrament to celebrate
their nutty courage. About 50,000 Australians get divorced every year.
We have no sacrament for them.
Something
crucial and wonderful and holy and sweet and salty between that man and
that woman sickened and withered and died, without public mourning or
witness or ritual, without communal attention and respect.
It
dies shivering the souls of the formerly married and their children and
their friends, and the Church has nothing to say, turns and looks away,
frowns and castigates, and everyone shuffles forward into the muddled
future, trying to repair their shattered hearts.
Maybe
there should be a sacrament for the end of a marriage. Maybe we should
gather as a people to witness and mourn the death of love and hope.
Maybe we should create a ritual by which we honour their brave attempt,
and formally conclude their failed endeavour.
Maybe
we should offer the people we love and respect a day of dignity to
close an immensely painful chapter, to publicly offer our support to
women and men and children, in the same way that we publicly offered
our support and witness on the day they vowed to honour each other all
the days of their lives.
With
about 40% of marriages now ending in divorce As I See It, the church can no longer afford to
take the high moral ground (not that it ever could). A century ago in
Australia there were fewer than five divorces per annum in Australia.
Now
the social reality is that all of us know individuals who have gone
through the trauma of divorce. There is increasing evidence, at least
in the Uniting Church that divorce no longer has the stigma attached to
it as it once had. We have some sensitive liturgies for such occasions
developed by Dorothy McRae-McMahon. As Christians we are called to
those places of pain in our neighbours lives to bring the live-giving
love of God’s grace. If the Gospel of Jesus Christ is about death and
renewal, then surely our place is next to those who travel through the
dark valley of divorce.
Tony Duncan
3rd
August, 2008
The
other day, someone came into my office and out of the blue asked me
what I understood by the term “redemption.” Now I have to say it’s not
a question that I get asked often, in fact it’s the first time, and I
was taken aback. Redemption is a
theological loaded word. It’s very much a “church word” and you rarely
see it used outside of a church context and I guess that’s why my
inquiring friend was asking a minister of the church.
Now I
could have spent some time describing how God in Jesus Christ redeemed
all of us, talking about how Jesus came as an ordinary man, lived our
life and died our death and through God’s power was raised to life
again; that in his death and resurrection we are saved. But I didn’t
think that was what he was wanting, he’d been told these things all his
church life. What did I mean by “redemption”?
Thinking
on my feet, I told him that I thought redemption had something to do
with wholeness. I have a strong belief that all of us are in need of
wholeness and healing. As I See It, it is as if we are incomplete. All human
beings are made with a spiritual yearning. We all, regardless of
culture, religion or race have this deep yearning to understand why we
are here, to make sense of suffering and evil and to find meaning in
our lives. It’s as if we are incomplete. So as a Christian, to
experience redemption is to be offered wholeness, a wholeness that can
be seen in the life of Jesus. Jesus shows us what it means to be a
truly whole person in the way he lived and in what he taught.
But redemption, wholeness, is a search that we are all engaged in
regardless of race colour or creed. I know this because I can see all
the world religions come down to a search for wholeness, a need for
lives that are authentic, lives connected to our Creator.
So as
a Christian minister I want to offer that wholeness in a language that
can be understood. Sometimes that language is in loving actions, or in
the words of St. Francis of Assisi –“preach Christ’s gospel, and as a
last resort use words.” In other words if we need to speak to a
person’s deep need for wholeness it is not words but loving acts that
will achieve that end. It’s not about saving souls, it about caring and
loving deeply enough for the whole person that sometimes there’s no
need to mention God or church, because God’s presence is there in
abundance in loving-kindness.
In
that respect Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan is a story of
redemption, a story of offering wholeness – not because the Samaritan
wanted the injured man to become a Samaritan like himself, but because
in the injured one the Samaritan saw a fellow traveller – someone
seeking wholeness. So in the caring and in the healing the giver as
well as the injured one is made whole. That’s true redemption and often
it can happen without any mention of religion. Wholeness is there from
our Creator for everyone.
Tony Duncan
27th
July, 2008
As
a minister of religion one of my problems is that I find it hard to go
to another service without critiquing it. It’s difficult for me be
still and know God when I’m in another church. If I’m not actively
looking for things that will enhance our worship here at Pilgrim I find
myself being amazed at what does or what does not happen in church
services away from Pilgrim. Several times I’ve been surprised when
there has been no “prayers of the people” – where intercessory prayer
has been limited solely to what was going on within that church
community.
But I
have to say that the saddest omission I’ve experienced when visiting
occurred in another Uniting congregation. Like many of our churches
these days the service was full of grey-haired people. There were a few
children though and my sadness that day had to do with the fact that
there was no recognition of them during the early part of the service.
Even when they were about to depart for Sunday School, the teacher had
to remind the worship leader that this was about to happen.
If we
want to encourage our children to come to worship, then we need to
involve them in worship. Liturgy is the work of the people, and that
includes children. Recognition of our children as a valuable
contributing part of our congregation is evidenced by the facilities
that are available for them. A toy corner with soft toys that have not
been recycled is a start, but more importantly is an attitude that sees
children as a blessing and not a noisy distraction during worship. And if we are to value the place of children
in our church community we need to resource those who work with them
adequately. So it is with some satisfaction that five of our
congregation were able to attend a workshop in Melbourne yesterday
looking at how to enhance our family and children ministry.
As I
see it, we do take our children and family ministry seriously at
Pilgrim. But there is no room for complacency. With the recent influx
of babies into the congregation it has been gratifying to see the
response of congregation members to the formation of a small nursery
group during worship. But our concern for families and children needs
to go beyond the gathered community on a Sunday morning. How can we
encourage the development of small groups that can gather perhaps apart
from Sunday mornings? We live in a society
where families are no longer as free on Sunday mornings as they were
once. What can we offer our young families apart from Sunday Worship? Most of the impetus needs to come from the
young families themselves but how can we encourage and resource the new
forms of church that need to emerge if we are pass on the faith that
has meant so much to each of us.
I
look forward to conversations with the young families themselves so
that Pilgrim will remain a congregation where children are valued and
encouraged to grow in the faith.
Tony Duncan
20th July, 2008
The
front page of Friday’s Melbourne Age had a half page photograph of Pope Benedict
XVI, resplendent in a red cloak that streamed behind him like a super
hero, as he made his way down Sydney Harbour in his “boat-a-cade”! And
I smiled to myself and not for the first time I shook my head in wonder
and awe about the institutional church. You see I have this love-hate
relationship with the institutional church (and by church, I mean all
the Christian churches including my own).
At
times I can look at what is done in the name of the church and cringe
with embarrassment and shame. I’ve often said the church is good at
shooting itself in the foot and the events in Sydney this week reflect
some of that, with ill-considered comments by those who should know
better about those who have been victims of clergy abuse.
None the less I have to say I’m in agreement with my
Baptist friend in Sydney who texted me on Thursday with the cryptic
comment “Slowly moving from cynicism to respect.”
And
for me the biggest reason for my movement from cynicism to respect is
the message the Pope brings to those young pilgrims in Sydney for the
World Youth Day festival. Whilst lamenting a world “grown weary of
greed, exploitation and division, of the tedium of false idols and the
pain of false promises,” he points them to Christ. “Christ offers more.
Indeed he offers everything.”
My hope would be that at the centre of what is happening in Sydney is
not the Pope but Christ. And if you can get hundreds of thousands of
young people enthused about the Way of Christ then something “true good
and beautiful” is happening. To-day, Sunday, half a million people will
gather at Randwick Racecourse and an estimated billion people worldwide
will see and hear the gospel proclaimed. And that cannot be a bad
thing. However I’m not so naive as to believe that the young people
present are not there to have good time. Most are there for the thrill
of the occasion but there will be some who take Christ’s message to
their hearts and for them World Youth Day in Sydney 2008 will be life
changing.
As I see it the huge response to World Youth Day
indicates the great thirst young people have to explore spiritual
depths. In a world that values material and rationalism above all else,
young people can see that to live fulfilled lives they will need more
that their possession and rationality, all the more so as our world
faces a resources crisis. So if we as Church are to meet their
spiritual yearnings, we will have to offer them more than the dry 19th Century conservatism that exists in
most of our mainline churches. We need to build healthy, love-filled
communities where the most vulnerable are safe and where Christ’s
gospel is lived out and not just preached.
Tony Duncan
13th
July, 2008
Two weeks ago at our combined service we
interrupted our service by having morning tea half way through. The
theme had been on welcoming to community, and at the time it was
thought a good idea that the congregations might have a time where they
could spend time getting to know each other better and to speak with
one another about what’s going on in their lives. On the whole the move
was well received but there were some who saw it as an intrusion into
church worship. It reminded me of a time when I introduced “Passing the
Peace” into one of my early congregations only to be told by one
parishioner that – “such actions in church were hypocritical and why I
should offer someone my hand when I don’t do so at the door.”
As I see it, it is now possible to go to church and say nothing of
importance to anyone. It has become so easy for congregations to adopt
a consumer mentality. Easy for people to sit and be entertained. We can
come and be prayed at, preached at, at times even sung at, and then
return home. Opportunities to share deeply about things that matter
seem few and far between. We’ve become such a private people. By contrast I’ve just spent three days at a
ministers' retreat, and experienced a different form of community. One
where there was enough trust between us that we could unburden
ourselves. Where we could take off our ecclesiastical mask and share at
that deep level. And in the honest sharing we found God along side us. Sadly such sharing is often not possible in a
congregation, and as a church generally, we are dying because of our
lack of trust and unwillingness to be open to one another.
Think
back to an experience of church where you felt totally accepted,
totally cared for, totally loved. And I’d be willing to wager that for
most of us that experience was in a small group. For Jenny and me it
has always been in small groups. Before training for the ministry,
Jenny and I belonged to a small group of four families that met to eat
together every second Sunday afternoon. We prayed together, studied
together, even played together and built a solid relationship with each
other in Jesus Christ. Similarly, in congregations since my ordinations
it has been in small study groups that we have felt totally at home.
That’s
not to say that Sunday worship is not important or that we can’t
develop times when we can share more intimately. But there is a limit
to what one can do on a Sunday with a congregation of 100+. However it
shouldn’t stop us from having our times of sharing. And if you’re
interested in being part of a small group specifically for faith
sharing, let me know.
Tony Duncan
6th July, 2008
Who’d
be a leader in today’s world? As I read my daily newspaper, as I listen
to radio and watch TV, it’s as if someone has declared open season on
our leaders. And it’s not just our political masters I’m talking about.
In every field, business, medicine, the law, education and, it seems,
especially the church – being a leader is harder than it has ever been.
Our media is primed to sniff out any and every imperfection. And it
sees it as “in the public interest” that each peccadillo of our leaders
is plastered over our front pages. The side affect is that we no longer
trust anyone in authority and at a time when real leadership is so
badly needed in our world, few are willing to put their head on the
chopping block and some of us are beginning to feel dispirited, even
depressed.
So
when did our leaders turn bad? As a child, growing up in the church, we
had leaders. In the Catholic Church of my childhood, “Father” always
knew best. As a child our political leaders were beyond reproach. But
now everyone has a voice. We are all experts – no matter the field,
just listen to talk back radio! We expect more from our leaders and are
less likely to accept that anyone knows best.
Of
course with increased scrutiny many of our leaders don’t help
themselves. The last 20 years has seen a succession of leaders end up
in the courts, and the new philosophy of screwing the system for all
its worth has meant that ethical behaviour in all walks of life is
under challenge. There is no such thing as conflict of interest.
Minimizing tax is considered the honourable thing to do.
In
the church in recent years we have seen the need to create a code of
ethics to inform ministry workers how to behave properly. How ironic!
But not surprising. The church has always mirrored the society in which
it has found itself.
But
as I see it, we Christians do have the means to address the crisis in
leadership we face today. We have an example of servant leadership in
Jesus Christ that is even more relevant today than ever before. In
Christ, leaders are there to serve. A job is a vocation, a calling and
a person’s worth is not determined by how much he or she earns. I’ve
always found the argument that the more one knows, the higher the
qualification the more money one should be paid, is at heart an
unchristian one. In Christ, the worth of a person is not determined by
how much they earn or how well educated the person is. We are all
children of God. It’s our economy that puts on the prices not our
theology. I long for the time when the more one is educated, the more
talented a person is, then the more responsibility a person has to
serve his or her community. Now there’s real leadership. Leadership
that seeks to give and not count the cost. Leadership that mirrors the
self-giving love of the Christ we follow.
Tony Duncan
29th June, 2008
Last
Tuesday night the Church Council spent some of its time looking at
“Pilgrim Uniting Church’s Response to Greenhouse,” a paper provided for
us by one of our members, Doug Ford. On
the face of it you could wonder what on earth has a response to
greenhouse to do with Christian faith. And why was our Council wasting
their time on such a worldly issue?
Well
as I see it, our environment and what we are doing to it is something
that Christians should be vitally concerned with. The Scriptures
maintain that we are stewards of God’s world and have been asked to
care for God’s creation. Sadly we humans have read that as bending our
physical environment to suit ourselves. Typically we have over-reached
ourselves and sought to dominate completely our environment and are
literally reaping the whirlwind. For too long the Christian Church has
supported the development at all costs mentality of our society. We
have taken the view that ecology has nothing to do with theology.
But
for me a more telling argument for Christians being involved with
ecological balance is that the harm we are inflicting upon our planet
is most harmful to those who are poorest. The benefits of so called
development go to the richer nations at the expense of poorer nations.
The food crisis that the world faces today is hardly felt in developed
countries. We complain about rising prices but millions starve because
crops are failing or are being diverted into bio-fuels. For the poor
the current ecological crisis is catastrophic. The poor are the ones
who will lose their homes, their livelihood, their lives as the world
warms and we worry about the tax relief so we can maintain our cars.
Ultimately
how we deal with the ecological crises of global warming and energy
depletion is a justice issue. And as a Christian Church surely we need
to live out the gospel imperative of caring for the poor. It’s more
than hypocritical if we deplore the greed and unconcern that drives
much of the development in our world and not look at the little we can
do as a congregation.
Accordingly
Doug Ford has provided for us preliminary estimates of our greenhouse
emissions as a church. He has estimated
that we emit just under 30 tonnes of carbon emissions per annum. This
is in the form of energy costs, travel on church business and our use
of paper. His work has helped the Church Council to focus on
conservation of energy and we have decided to move to recycled paper
and to look at practical ways to conserve our energy output. In
addition we intend to expend a small amount to offset our greenhouse
gas emissions by paying a reputable off-setting organization
(Greenfleet) to offset our emissions.
Wouldn’t
it be good if each of our congregation’s households was to look to
similar actions? As Christians we can make a difference to our world.
And that most definitely includes acting to heal our planet.
Tony Duncan
22 June, 2008
As
I’m writing this As I See It, our new church notice boards are being
erected. And it got me to thinking. How important are the signs we put
up outside our churches? Do they tell us
much about what goes on inside the church buildings. Do they tell us
much about the church community and how it operates?
Well I have to say that in my experience the answer to
both questions is a resounding “yes.” Our notice boards and the state
of our grounds can often be a good indicator of the way the church
people are feeling about themselves. If the notice board looks tired,
the people are generally tired. In one church I was involved with they
had a small sign, partly shielded by a big tree with faded writing
which was hard for anyone to notice. It took four years of agitating to
have a new sign put up, partly because the sign had been donated to the
church by people long since dead and we were afraid to upset anyone.
But the new sign was only possible when the congregation felt better
about themselves and were confident enough to broadcast their faith,
knowing that they had something to offer their community other than
Sunday services.
Bold
and confident notice boards can signify a bold and confident church
community. Similarly the state of our
church grounds can give out unintended messages. Some of you may have
wondered why I was so keen to be rid of the large trees that hid the
beauty of our church building. I love trees but I love Pilgrim more and
I want what Pilgrim can offer in Jesus Christ to be seen and heard and
experienced. I have heard more than one
person comment that they were unaware that this was a church building.
The outer states of our church buildings are like body language – they
often give a good indication of the mood of the place.
But
it’s not just the physical state of our notice boards that is
important. Often it’s what we put on these boards that can tell us even
more about the congregation. I have to admit that there are pious and
moralistic statements plastered upon notice boards that make me want to
cringe. And I’m sympathetic to the message of Christ, so I wonder what
it does to those the message is often targeted to – the non-Christian.
Messages that judge or exclude, however cleverly worded, are a turn off. It is hard enough getting people into churches
these days without implying that you have to be holy to come to church
and that going to church will make everything right in your life.
And
then there are even subtler messages often on display that can give
more than the message intended. Take the one I saw recently to which I
took great offence. “Live your life so
that when you die the preacher will not have to tell lies about you.” Very clever. But
as a preacher, I hope I never have to tell lies. Perhaps the message “The
truth will make you free!”
needs to be the follow up message. So beware. Our notice boards often
tell people far more about ourselves than we realise.
Tony Duncan
15
June, 2008
‘Hell’
is a topic I talk about very carefully and not very often. In fact it’s
a topic that most mainline ministers are very wary of.
We leave the subject to our more theologically
conservative brothers and sisters, washing our hands Pilate-like. Not
for us the pulpit thumping threats of hell and damnation to all who
ignore our calls to repent. We’d much rather love people into the
kingdom. Yet “hell” isn’t going away any
time soon.
And
the reason I’m inflicting the topic on you now is that this week I
received the latest edition of “Christian Century” and there, as the cover story, was “What to say about
hell.” Eight
theologians were asked to comment on “Hell” and to my surprise all of
them agreed, that “Hell is a
nonnegotiable item in the Christian vocabulary. It has scriptural
roots, it is there in the earliest creeds and it has been a staple of
Christian preaching and art since almost the beginning.” (Paul Griffiths –Duke Divinity School)
And
whilst I’d agree with them I still think the problem with “hell” in our
world today is that we have relegated it to the afterlife.
For many Christians, ‘hell’ is a place you go to when
you die – if you’ve rejected God’s way. But as I see it “hell” exists
with many of us here and now. Millions of people are living hellish
lives, with no hope, no future, no escape, and no God.
The
classical definition of “hell” has been living with the absence of God,
and you do not need to wait for the life hereafter to see that
condition. In Victor Frankel great book, “Man’s Search for Meaning” he
describes his experience in the hell that was his concentration camp in
Nazi Germany. He observed that those with a relationship with God were
the ones who were able to survive. Living in hellish conditions, they
were not in hell.
And I
wonder if this is not a word of hope to us in the 21st Century where so much seems to be
hellish in our world. As Christians perhaps we too like Christ are
called to “descend into hell” as our creeds claim happened to Jesus
after death, and to bring hope and life to people whose daily life is
hell. None of us really knows what life
after death will be like, heaven or hell, but we know what life here
and now is like and we as Christians have the means of doing something
about choice of heaven or hell in our day to day living. And if life
without God, ‘hell’, is as bad as we believe then perhaps knowing this
will encourage us to help people to get to know our God through us and
leave their own personal hell.
Let
me close though with a story I have used many times before, a story
from the St. Bernard tradition. In a
vision an angel announces that she is going to torch the pleasures of
heaven and quench the fires of hell, so people will start loving God
for God’s own sake.
Tony Duncan
8th
June, 2008
Recently
our Church Council made a decision to rename “the cloisters” in our
church. We decided to call that enclosed part of our church property
that links the commercial part of our city with the civic part,
“Pilgrim Way”. Hum, ho, I hear you sigh.
So what?
Well,
as I see it, words matter. The language we
use can sometimes limit understanding to the initiated few by using
jargon. I have sat often in meetings of public servants and listened to
them rattle off initials of organisation and positions as if everyone
would know what the OM of a QANGO was. Communication
by acronyms! It was alright when I was a
public servant myself, part of the in-group but now when I’ve found
myself an outsider in such meetings, I am totally mystified, having to
learn afresh what a “MoU with DHHS and NGOs” means. And I’m still not
sure what an IAST is. And I remember vividly recently when I sat in a
meeting of computer experts discussing how we could redesign our
website, totally bewildered.
Specialists
of all sorts have their own language. I’m sure it has been created to
ease communications among themselves, but the inevitable by-product of
such language is that it excludes others. And
so it is with the church. Few people today know what a cloister is. And
if they do, they often associate it with a place for closed religious
orders where only the initiated or ordained can walk. This certainly is
not what we have in mind for Pilgrim Walk.
But
just as important is the use of in words in church. I remember when I
was studying theology being introduced to a raft of new words that even
after a lifetime in churches I had no idea about. What after all does
“instantiation” mean? And does it matter! So
in our services when we use words like justification, sanctification,
righteousness and even sin, perhaps we as the initiated may know what
they are all about – but what of someone entering our hallowed doors
for the first time – does our language make much sense to them?
The
problem of language becomes even more of an issue when we sing the
lyrics of some of our old hymns –what does “mine eyes diffused” mean
anyway? I enjoy singing the song but sometimes have no idea what I’m
singing about. And of course if you are the sort of Christian who
believes that the King James Version of the Holy Scriptures is God’s
version, then the problem is compounded further. Christians have a
message of God’s inclusive love to tell. Surely we can tell it in
language that is readily understood by all. So let’s not be cloistered,
let us walk our pilgrim way into a world that is desperately seeking
meaning. And if you find your preacher lapsing at times into
theological jargon, gently remind him that the gospel is for everyone,
not just the initiated few.
Tony Duncan
1st June, 2008
Well
they say travel broadens the mind, and I certainly have had my mind
broadened over the past 4 weeks. Whenever I travel abroad, I have this
problem, I love to visit places of
worship. I’m not too fussy about their theological tradition, I’m just
fascinated in the myriad of ways we human beings approach God.
Our
first stop was Doha, that’s right the capital of Qatar, and there we
had lunch with Rev. Bill Swartz and his wife Edie. (They are friends of
the Cockers). Bill enthusiastically showed the plans for a
multi-million dollar worship centre for all the Protestants in Doha.
The government has given the land and asked Bill to oversee the
establishment of a worship centre. It’s a grand affair in keeping with
the development going around it. However what moved me more than the
impressive plans for the worship centre was the congregation
that is to meet there. In the main it is the indentured Christian
workforce to whom Bill and Edie will minister. A group of people who
are all strangers in a strange land, with little or no legal protection. Bill and Edie bring a message of hope to the
poor and dispossessed and are working hard to raise the money needed
for a worship centre. But there is no doubt, they have clear mission
focus.
Then
there was magnificent Gothic Eastern Catholic cathedral in Prague’s Old
Town. Jenny and I were accidental attenders of a Mass in the cathedral
that seemed and did go for hours. We were attracted by the posters
advertising a concert by the Prague Chamber Orchestra. We returned the
following evening and were treated to an exquisite evening of heavenly
music. This church together with four or five others saw their ministry
in presenting world class music to the many tourists in Prague and in
so doing there was no doubt they had a clear mission focus.
And
the third was a Methodist church in Ludlow in Shropshire. Of all the
churches we visited, this came closest to ours. Set in the centre of
the tourist town, Ludlow, we were first attracted by the numbers of
people going into the building. It was the middle of the week, and a
closer inspection revealed that they had a café – Wesleys Café that seemed to be doing a roaring
trade. Their café was in the foyer part of the church, glassed
off from the worship centre. They had a balcony over the café
again glassed off from the worship centre which acted as a very
comfortable meeting area and occasional chapel. The manager of the
café told me that the church had gone into debt, but that the
development had revitalised their church and were reaching out to the
community around them. Once
again a congregation with a clear mission focus.
And I
wondered about possibilities for Pilgrim. Three
very different churches all seeking to serve God in the where they are. Clarity of mission is even more important in
today’s world where the church is often seen as irrelevant. At Pilgrim
are we clear about who we are and who we are called to serve?
Tony Duncan
25 May, 2008
Recently I read a
touching short story by Michael Frost entitled “The Wisdom of Wal
Richards” (in “Australian Stories for the Spirit”, available in the Ida
Birchall Library). Wal was intellectually
and physically disabled, speech impaired, and unable to read or write. Daily he sat on his favourite bench at the
intersection of the main streets in the small Victorian town of
Maryborough. He greeted people as they
walked by, but was unable to converse with them.
Somewhere
around the age of 20, he procured a Box Brownie camera.
As he clicked away with shaking hands, most assumed he
had no film in the camera or did not know how to take a photograph.
Wal’s
favourite photo shoots were weddings, and it is estimated he attended
an amazing 2,000 of them. Invited or not,
he’d attend. Some would set a place at a
table for him. Others would keep quiet,
hoping he’d not find out. But he still
turned up. He’d cycle long distances, or
catch a train to Melbourne. He became an
integral part of local weddings. Brides
and bridesmaids took centre stage, with the grooms at the edge of the
images.
After
Wal’s death in 1997, aged 66, his family discovered 20,000 unlabelled
photographs in his back shed. The images
that no one thought would turn out were extraordinary.
4,000 were chosen for an exhibition, and decades of
memories were displayed with huge interest and great acclaim. Wal, the wedding photographer, gave
Maryborough its greatest fame. The wisdom
he could share in no other way was there for all to see.
Undoubtedly this story appeals to the photographer in me, and I’m a bit
of a softie with tales like this. They
make me pause, and reconsider my priorities. Everyone’s
life has a value. And I never mind the
gentle reminders that our God can and does accomplish extraordinary
things with un-extraordinary people in un-extraordinary situations. As I see it, it is good to remember this when
we feel so small... and wonder what contribution we could possibly
make.....
Wendy Cocker
18 May, 2008
Last
weekend I attended the Annual Meeting of the Tasmanian Council of
Churches. It was a day when Anglicans, Baptists, Catholics, Unitings,
Quakers and Salvation Army people gathered to discuss our common
concerns and interests.
In
recent years there has been what some have called an “ecumenical
winter”, and some of the hopes that we might have had in the 1970s
and1980s for a wider union of churches now seem very remote.
Nevertheless it is important to recognise the enormous advances that
have been made in relationships between the churches in our lifetime. I
recently preached in the Church of the Apostles, yet when I was a youth
it would have been unheard of for a Protestant minister to preach in a
Catholic church.
Also,
we need to acknowledge that although moves towards union of churches
have come to nothing, there have been great strides in the movement
towards unity. Increasingly we see that there is much more that unites
us than divides us. Even in our worship, there are many similarities in
our litanies (especially for the sacraments – and the use of a common
lectionary has helped that).
At
the TCC last weekend we had an afternoon forum on baptism. There are
clearly differences between churches over whether infants should be
baptised, and some Christian communities such as the Salvationists and
the Quakers do not practise baptism. But the others all use the same
Trinitarian words “I baptise you in the name of the Father, the Son and
the Holy Spirit”, and most of the churches recognise the baptism
administered by another church. In fact seven denominations (including
our own) use a common baptismal certificate. And each of the churches
affirms that the baptism they administer is into Christ’s church – not
their particular denomination.
So
despite our differences, baptism in fact unites the churches. Thanks be
to God.
Allan Thompson
11 May, 2008
Excerpts
from: “Enough Is Enough”
by Walter Brueggemann
We live in a world where
the gap between scarcity and abundance grows wider every day. Whether
at the level of nations or neighbourhoods, this widening gap is
polarising people, making each camp more and more suspicious and
antagonistic toward the other…
An affirmation of
abundance says just the opposite… There is
enough to go around, so long as each of us takes only what we need… The Bible is about abundance. From the first chapters of Genesis, God not
only initiates abundance - calling forth plants and fish and birds and
animals - but promises continued abundance by commanding them to
"increase and multiply" (1:22). God's generosity and fidelity reach
their climax on the sixth day, when God proclaims a sufficiency… Having thus set in motion a world of
abundance, God rests - the mechanisms are in place, the world will have
enough… [Sabbath]
Today,
the fundamental human condition continues to be anxiety, fuelled by a
market ideology that keeps pounding on us to take more, to not think
about our neighbour, to be fearful, short-sighted, grudging. One
glaring example of today's anxiety-driven scarcity is the frenetic
activity that so characterizes our society. Corporate
executives boast a "24/7" mentality as a bulwark against losing their
edge or missing an opportunity. Those of
us with less "prestigious" positions continually wrestle with our
bulging appointment books and ever-growing to-do lists…
youngsters have exchanged a carefree childhood for a
schedule of structured activities…
The
Bible offers an antidote to all this activity: the
call to …Sabbath is based on abundance. A
Sabbath spent catching up on chores we were too busy to do during the
week is hardly a testimony to abundance Too
often, the church has understood God's unconditional grace as solely a
theological phenomenon, instead of recognizing that it has to do with
the reordering of the economy of the world…
When
we gather as church each Sunday, we should ponder the stories that
declare scarcity to be false: an impromptu hillside meal with as much
in left-overs as when it began, a barren desert blossoming with manna,
an earth fully equipped to meet everyone's needs. And
a question should be burning in our hearts…
[Read the
full article on our website 'Home' page if you enjoyed this.]
Andrea Bartley
4
May, 2008
Feathers on the
Breath of God -
Like Catching Water in a Net
In her book Like catching Water
in a Net Val Webb quotes
from Deuteronomy 4: 15 -9 which warned Hebrew people not
to make any images of that which they experienced -
warning us of boxing Divinity into a human-like form:
Since you saw no form when the Lord spoke to you at
Horeb …
Take care and watch yourselves closely, so that
you do not act corruptly by making an idol for
yourselves
in the form of any figure – the
likeness of male or female,
the likeness of any animal that is on the earth,
the likeness of any winged bird that flies in the air,
the likeness of anything that creeps on the ground,
The likeness of any fish that is in the water under
the earth.
And when you look up to the heavens and see the
sun,
The moon, and the stars, all the host of heaven, do
not be led astray
And bow down to them and serve them.
And in her own words on the ‘formlessness’
of the Divine:
You are the thought before I speak
You are the urge before I sing
You are the nudge before I act
You are the spring before I walk
You are the prayer before I sleep
You are the dawn before I wake
You are the breath before I live.
God is new each day.
He is a constant source of new possibilities … God is absolute freedom. And that means that, as long as human history
has not been completed, as long as the totality of
history has not been given, we cannot know God’s being –
there is always something more and so there is always openness. And even the totality of history does not
coincide with God’s activity.<>
Edward Schilebeeckx
Caroline Ball
27 April, 2008
At our Church Council meeting last Tuesday night, Greg James led our
devotions with this provocative reading from a book called “Believe – The words
and inspiration of Desmond Tutu” I thought it worthy of repeating as it
reflects “As I see it.” It also dovetails perfectly with this Sunday’s
gospel, John 14: 15-21.
In my culture and
tradition, says Desmond
Tutu,
the highest praise that can be given to someone is, “Yu, u nobuntu”, an acknowledgement
that he or she has this wonderful quality, “ubuntu”. It is a reference
to their actions towards their fellow human beings, it has to do with
how they regard people and how they see themselves within their
intimate relationships, their familial relationships and within the
broader community. Ubuntu addresses the
central tenet of African philosophy: the essence of what it is to be
human.
The definition of
this concept has two parts. The first is that the person is friendly,
generous, gentle, caring and compassionate. In other words, someone who
will use their strengths on behalf of others – the weak, the poor, the
ill – and not take advantage of anyone. This person treats others as he
would be treated. And because of this they express the second part of
the concept which concerns openness, large-heartedness. They share
their worth. In doing so my humanity is recognised and becomes
inextricably bound to theirs.
People with ubuntu are approachable
and welcoming, their attitude is kindly and well disposed, they are not
threatened by the goodness in others because their own esteem and
self-worth is generated by knowing that they belong to a greater whole.
To recast the Cartesian proposition, “I think, therefore I am”, ubuntu
would phrase it “I am human because I belong”. Put another way “a
person is a person through other people.” No one comes into
the world fully formed. We would not know how to think or walk or speak
or behave unless we learned it from our fellow human beings. We need
other human beings in order to be human. The solitary, isolated human
is a contradiction in terms.
Because we need one
another, our natural tendency is to be cooperative and helpful. If this
was not true we would have died out as a species long ago consumed by
our violence and hate. But we haven’t. We have kept on despite the evil
and the wars that have brought so much suffering and misery down the
centuries. We have kept on because we strive for harmony and community,
a community not only of the living but also one that honours our
forebears. This link with the past gives us a sense of continuity. A
sense that we have created and create, societies that are meant to be
for the greater good and we try and overcome anything that subverts our
purpose. Our wars end and we seek to heal.
But anger,
resentment, a lust for revenge, greed, even the aggressive
competitiveness that rules so much of our contemporary world corrodes
and jeopardizes our harmony. Ubuntu points out
that those who seek to destroy and dehumanize are also victims.
Victims, usually of a pervading ethos, be it a political ideology, an
economic system, or a distorted religious conviction. Consequently they
are as much dehumanised as those on whom they trample.
Tony Ducan
20
October, 2008
Several
months ago I was asked to participate in focus group set up by the
Synod’s Mission Participation Resource Unit. (Boy! Is that a mouthful!!) The focus group involves me receiving four
free copies of the magazine “Congregations” produced by the Alban
Institute and commenting on the articles and hopefully using them in to
inform and enhance ministry practise here at Pilgrim.
The
first edition of the magazine that I have received has been devoted to Narrative Leadership
– rediscovering the life-giving nature of stories and I want to say that last Sunday I
hope many of you were able to do just that – rediscover the life-giving
nature of our stories. Last Sunday five people (four planned and one, a
gift of the Spirit) shared some of their faith story with us in
worship. They reflected aloud on times when God/Jesus has come close to
them. They shared intimate stories of faith and their stories were all
different. Each of their connections with God was unique and in their
sharing our worship was enhanced. A young woman brought close to God
through her struggle with life-threatening illness, a father of a young
family‘s struggle for belief, a woman passionately involved with God’s
creation and an older man who can look back and see God’s fingerprints
all over his life; and then the unexpected testimony of a man nearly
broken by life’s experiences, learning to depend solely on a God
working through God’s people.
For
me all these stories contributed to one of the most moving and
God-filled worship services that it has been my privilege to be part of. As I see it, it mattered little that we agreed
or disagreed with what was being said, for what we were privileged to
hear were whispers of conversations others are having with God. They were courageous enough to speak their
faith aloud.
And
then I read this snippit in “Congregations” from Margaret J Wheatley,
who says, “There is no power
greater than a community discovering what it cares about.
Ask, ‘What’s possible?’ not
‘What’s wrong?’ Keep asking … Be brave enough to
start a conversation that matters.”
“Be
brave enough to start a conversation that matters.”
How well do we know each other? On
a Sunday morning I often wonder as I look around – what is really going
on in the lives of the congregations? Occasionally
I am given glimpses, but more often than not we have learned to be
cautious about what we share, even about what we believe. And in our
caution we build barriers between. In our caution, misunderstandings
occur. In our caution we fail to hear when
a conversation that matters is attempted.
I
wonder, is our faith community here at Pilgrim safe enough for us to
share our stories, stories of life, stories of faith?
Are we open and inclusive enough to share stories that
differ greatly to our own? Jesus the
Christ loved telling stories but even more powerful, he loved listening
to the stories of others. And in the listening and in the telling, the
Kingdom of God was realised.
I’d
like us to be more open to hearing each others stories and allowing the
Spirit to create a wonderful story of community here at Pilgrim.
Tony Duncan
13
April, 2008
Being Sorry - Reflections on
Reconciliation
It’s
2.00 o’clock on a Saturday afternoon at the back of Bourke. A place
known to the aboriginal people there as Gundabooka. We’d been welcomed
to the land a few hours earlier. We’d just been shown around the
country by a Koori named Phil. He’s a ranger. He’s a man of faith. He’d
just told us something about bush tucker. He’d shown us evidence of
centuries of aboriginal use of the land - rings of stones that
had been used as bush ovens. Only the bottom stones are left now- so
much has the land been scarred by erosion caused by sheep and cattle
overgrazing.
He’d
shown us some rock painting and he’d talked about Biami - the Creator.
He tells us of his Christian faith. And then something that
leaves all of us speechless and some of us with tears in our eyes. He
says sorry to us. Sorry if he or his people have caused any injury to
us. Sorry for any hurt caused us intentionally or unintentionally. He’s
a representative of the oldest people of this ancient land, and
he is saying sorry to us after he has shown us his country.
Most
of us on this journey into reconciliation shake our heads. He’s saying
sorry to us after all that’s been done by our people to his people.
Some of us see him after and say our sorries to him. And I get to
thinking. Thinking about what his apology
really means. We hardly know the man. Some amongst us have never met
with aboriginal people before this journey into reconciliation. What
does his sorry mean?
Perhaps
he is right to say sorry. Perhaps that is a word all of us should be
using to describe the state of Aboriginal and European relations. Our
relationships are in a sorry mess. We all should feel sorry. And on a theological level perhaps that is
what our God was on about when he sent his son Jesus into the world. To
say sorry. For the sad state of the world.
The good shepherd. The one who goes out and brings home the one sheep
that has stayed. The good Shepherd doesn’t berate his sheep. He’s just
sorry that it’s strayed and acts to save. It’s
his act of sorrow. The cross. Not for nothing is Jesus called the Man
of sorrows.
Perhaps
Phil, a follower of the Christ is right. He sees how his people
have been diminished by the treatment they have received at the hands
of the newcomers and he’s sorry, sorry for his people and sorry for we
newcomers who have also been diminished by what happens to aboriginal
people in this land.
Later
we go into Bourke we see shuttered shops. We see houses that have been
wrecked, and worse still we hear of lives that have been wrecked, and
we sense … what it means to be sorry. Perhaps
being sorry is a state. Perhaps we are being called to live the
sorrowful life of the Christ and in living it we come to a place of
reconciliation, not just with our Aboriginal sisters and brothers but
also our God. And who knows - if enough of us worldwide learn to
say and live sorry - perhaps we wouldn’t be living in a world that
tolerates Israeli and Palestinians tearing each other apart, that
allows the strongest to run roughshod over the weakest. That permits
the wealthy to exploit the poor.
We
should all be saying sorry.
Tony Duncan
6
April, 2008
Whilst
studying to become a minister one of the theologians whose works we
were required to study was a man named Jürgen Moltmann. I remember
clearly the day, in the first week of our course, when I was introduced
to his works. We were given a two page photocopy from his book, “The
Crucified God” and optimistically told by our tutor that by the end of
the year we would be able to make sense of it. For me it certainly was
optimistically because I’m not sure I understand even now all that
Maltmann was saying.
But
either I’m getting more theologically literate or Maltmann is becoming
less obtuse, for I came across the other day a quote from Maltmann that
I think I understand and what’s more one that I can thoroughly endorse. I found it under the heading of “New kind of living
together”. He gives six marks of Christian
community based on his understanding of the Gospel, they are:
No
one alone with his or her problems
No
one has to conceal his or her disabilities
There
are NOT some who have say and others who have nothing to say
Neither
old nor little ones isolated
One
bears the other even when it is unpleasant & there is disagreement
One
can also at times leave the other in peace when the other needs it
Now I
don’t know about you, but I could live in a community like that.
Imagine if our entire community was run along these lines. But sadly
even among church communities these are hard guidelines to live up to.
Nonetheless
Maltmann has not conjured these points out of thin air. Jesus, as I see
it, lived his life out according to these principles because he
believed that we are all children of God. “Suffer the little children
to come to me,” he said. In his ministry he was open to all, and even
when he was being tortured on the Cross he was able to forgive and
forbear. When people, like Nicodemus and the rich young man failed to
respond, he left them in peace.
The
question is, is Pilgrim a community where, no one is alone with his or
her problems; where no one has to conceal his or her disabilities;
where there are not some who have say and others who have nothing to
say; where neither old nor little ones are isolated; where one bears
the other even when it is unpleasant and there is disagreement; and
where one can also at times leave the other in peace when the other
needs it? For this I believe is how we’re supposed to live as
Christians sisters and brothers.
Tony Duncan
30
March, 2008
Someone
once wrote that the business of a church in the heart of the city is to
“keep alive the rumour that there is a God.” And
since coming to Pilgrim nearly three years ago I guess that is what I
have seen as my task. Not so much for the faithful worshippers here at
Pilgrim, but for the many more who would see church as a foreign land.
As I see it, making Pilgrim, and all it stands for, visible, is at the
heart of our mission here in Launceston.
And
it’s more than chopping down a few trees to show people that there is
in fact a church building here, although I must admit I have people say
in passing that they had no idea what a beautiful church Pilgrim is.
No, “keep alive the rumour that there is a God.” has more to do with
helping people to see the love of God in action.
Pilgrim
Walkway is crucial in that regard. The cross, the palms and the Easter
ribbons that have recently decorated our walkway, are symbols of what
we hold as important, for those who use the walkway as a thoroughfare.
Bringing the “holy” into the world if you like, showing that our God is
not a rumour confined to a locked church building but out in the world.
Similarly the badges that now decorate the glass in our walkway tell
more about our God of justice and the Pilgrim community. I know people
are stopping to read and recently I had person come into the office
asking where he could buy the badges. And I know that there will be
others not connected to the church who stop to read this “As I see it”
on their way through.
But
for me one of the more important aspects of keeping alive “the rumour
that there is a God,” is the midweek communion service. This small
reflective communion service is for me the highlight of my week. It was
started specifically for those in the city, to give them a quiet place
in the busyness of the city. Although only a small congregation we have
had a series of visitors who call in, in response to the small sign in
the walkway. And it’s a service where people can unburden themselves.
On a number of occasions tears are shed freely, and people are sent out
refreshed and renewed. At this quiet service God is more than a rumour.
So if in the middle of the week you need a pick me up why not come to
our Mid-Week communion and go on to Maggie’s Cafe for a snack.
Tony Duncan
23 March, 2008
Easter has come
early this year!! In fact you’d have to be 95 years old to remember
that last time Easter came this early – 1913! And none of us will be
around for the next time Easter comes this early – 2228! So March
23 is really early!
But
Easter came even earlier for me this year. It
came on Tuesday as I sat and listened to the stories of six young
women. They were all members of a special group called New Pin whose
aim is to equip, parents whose children are at risk, with the coping
skills most of us take for granted.
Each
of them told of life lived in the depths of despair – “My God, my God,
why have you forsaken me?” Each knew the desperation that causes a
mother to enter down a path of self destruction, as they abused their
bodies with alcohol and drugs and suicidal behaviour. Each of them at
one time or another felt their children would be better off without
them.
And
on Tuesday, I listened to their resurrection stories. Stories of a
mother of two fleeing an abusive husband who contemplated giving away
her children, brought back from the brink by New Pin workers who taught
her how to value herself, who loved her back to her senses. Of a young
woman barely into her twenties who was given the strength to stop her
drug taking when she realised that she loved her children more than her
drugs, led to that point by New Pin workers’ unconditional love for her.
Yes,
Easter came early this year and it came in the most unexpected place.
Not in a church, but out in the community, mediated, not by good
Christians, but by people whose hearts clearly know Jesus’ message of
love and liberation. In truly caring for these women and their
children, the New Pin workers have helped to birth a miracle in each of
their lives. They have been freed to live the lives God would want for
them.
I was
asked by a bystander on Tuesday if New Pin had any connection with a
church, and saw the confused look on his face when I said no. Their
stories sounded like good old fashioned testimonies, testifying to the
Christian truth that new life is always possible, even in the darkest
place if we are will to submit ourselves to Love.
This
Easter may you and yours truly experience newness of life in Jesus
Christ.
Tony Duncan
16
March, 2008
Last Saturday I
celebrated a wedding at
Pilgrim. It was a joyous occasion with the church nearly full with
well-dressed guests. But it was an unusual occurrence. Firstly, it’s
unusual for so many people to turn up at church so well dressed, and
secondly I’ve noticed that fewer and fewer people want a church
wedding. Of the eleven weddings that I’ve officiated at since coming
here almost three years ago, only 6 have been in the Pilgrim church.
And prior to coming to Pilgrim, I officiated at an average of 15-20 a
year, nearly all in the church. And all this got me to thinking.
The fact that people
who attend weddings
are well dressed is hardly surprising. Weddings, whether in the church
or elsewhere, are joyous occasions and
people love to get dressed up, it’s only good manners. Getting dressed
up for church, however, in main is no longer required. Gone are the
hats and gloves for the women and men are no longer constricted to suit
and tie when they come to worship. And that is a good thing. Worship is
not about us. We don’t need to be at our best when we come because
God’s relationship with us goes beyond fine clothes. Worship for most
of us is not a one off special occasion and for most of us it about
relaxing with an old Friend, where we can be truly accepted just as we
are. So save your good clothes for special one off celebrations.
More intriguing
however is the
increasing tendency for rites of passage rituals like wedding and
funerals to go elsewhere. We’re almost at the stage when, Australia
wide, more weddings and funerals are conducted by secular celebrants
than religious ones. It probably reflects the increasing secularization
of our society, but it also has something to do with our community’s
view of religion in general and of the church in particular. There have
been times when the church has brought this upon itself with the
natural demands we make around Christian weddings and funerals. I
always think that God and Jesus need to get a guernsey on such
occasions and there are some who think this demand unreasonable. But
there have also been occasions when we have been less than gracious,
occasions when we have made unreasonable demands that individuals be
part of our fellowship before we marry or bury them, occasion when we
have used our trusted position at a funeral or a wedding to conduct an
evangelistic campaign during the homily. Such behaviour simply
reinforces the view that the church is totally out of touch with the
majority in our community.
As I
see it weddings
and funerals are wonderful opportunities to give non-church people a
positive experience of church. It’s a chance to challenge the
stereotypes that paint clergy and church-going Christians as humourless
and judgemental. And it is always an occasion to proclaim the
all-inclusive love of our God to people who seldom if ever venture
inside a church. And if our grand churches intimidate some, why not go
to where they are in parks and gardens, in crematoria and funeral
chapels. After all that’s how Jesus ministered.
Tony Duncan
9th March, 2008
This
Sunday, Jenny and I will be worshipping with 150 people, children,
teenagers and adults at the KUCA campout at Ross. We’re both looking
forward to it but know that we’ll be exhausted afterwards. But neither
of us could resist the opportunity. Children and young people always
keep you on your toes theologically. They have not yet learned to cover
their feelings with politeness. If something is boring, they tell you
so. If something doesn’t make sense they are not afraid of asking the
simple question, the question many adults hold to themselves lest they
seem foolish. That’s why children are so important for our church. They
keep us honest, if we’re willing to listen. And worship without
children, as I see it, lacks something. Not for me “generational
apartheid” where your age dictates which service you go to. Let’s
worship together. Not for nothing did Jesus say, “Suffer the little
children to come to me.”
So on
that point let me share with you a story from one of my Lenten
Disciplines called “For Crying Out Loud.” By John Shea in “Daybreaks” –
Daily Reflections for Lent and Easter.
A woman, in her late forties and stylishly dressed, approached the
priest as he stood outside the church after the 9.45am Mass. “That baby
screamed throughout your entire sermon. Why didn’t you do something?
You should have told the parents to take the child out. Didn’t that
crying bother you?” In fact it did bother
him. He’d lost his train of thought a couple of times, but he managed
to get back on track. Preachers quickly learn to ride the baby
competition. This does not mean they win the battle to be heard. It
just means that they do not stop, break down and cry themselves.
But
there is something profoundly disturbing about asking a crying baby to
leave. Besides the embarrassment to the parents, there are deeper
issues involved in this very minor moment of liturgy. Could it be that
the nature of Eucharist welcomes crying babies?
There may be dozens
of practical reasons why babies should be left at home, but there is
one overwhelming reason why they should be present. They are one of us.
Crying comes with the baby territory. (Actually it comes with the adult
territory too; but we flee to the bathroom and do it more quietly.)
People may try to quiet babies but no one begrudges them a good wail.
When they are there the human condition is rounded out. And their
occasional or sustained outbursts remind us of a fact that liturgies
often leave us in doubt about. We are alive.
The
author leaves us with a thought for the day - Embrace
crying as a sign of life.
I’d
like to add to it by saying - Embrace our
children as a sign of life.
Tony Duncan
2nd March, 2008
Last
Wednesday whilst many of our fellow citizens were preparing for the
Launceston Cup, I found myself in gaol, or at least in what qualifies
for gaol here in the centre of Launceston. It came as a great surprise
to me that there is a prison less than 200 metres from Pilgrim. Our
police station contains the biggest suite of cells I have ever seen in
the many police stations I have visited. The lock-up contains about 40
cells for short term prisoners on remand or awaiting a court hearing.
But the place I found myself in, was deep in the bowels of the
building, under the main cell block. Here, five long-term convicted
prisoners live, some for several years. They have chosen to live in the
cells to be near to their families and they work during the day in the
police complex, earning a little money and preparing for their release. This section is indeed a prison.
I was
there at the request of a group of Christians who have decided, in
partnership with the prison authorities, to do something about the
living conditions of these five long-term prisoners. It’s the same
group who were responsible for last year’s Invermay Primary School’s
“Backyard Blitz.” That particular project was about the Christians of
Launceston giving something back to the community of Launceston, a
project of pure grace, no strings attached, mirroring what God has done
for us.
Well
perhaps this new project stems from Jesus’ desire to “proclaim release
to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind.” The project
intends to improve the living conditions of the five long-term
prisoners by creating a communal living area with a small kitchenette
in it. In addition, one of the unused cells will be used as a small gym
area for the prisoners. But for me the most exciting part of the
project is to paint murals on the claustrophobic walls. There are no
windows whatsoever in the narrow corridors and I found my short stay
there very oppressive. The project intends to create windows of hope to
lessen the oppressive and claustrophobic feel of the place.
How
can Pilgrim help? Well most of the internal structural work is being
done by a small group of tradesmen. Perhaps some of the artists in the
congregation would be interested in creating a mural, but I think our
major contribution could be in providing some of the new furnishing
that will be required for the gym, the kitchenette and the lounge area,
especially given that, unlike Invermay Primary there will be limited
access to the site.
Once
again we have an opportunity to reach out beyond Pilgrim, this time to
our hidden neighbours living so close to the church.
Tony Duncan
24 February, 2008
Being
a church in the centre of a city, even a small regional city like
Launceston, can be difficult. At Pilgrim we have parking difficulties.
There is no recognised residential neighbourhood for us to relate to
and we suffer from not having a school community close to us to reach
out to. When I arrived here first I wondered how I could minister in
such a place, so foreign to my two previous suburban churches with
their well defined mission areas. Well, this month a few things have
happened that have encouraged me to think that Pilgrim does have a very
clear mission and can bring the Good News of Christ to a much larger
constituency than a local neighbourhood.
A few
days after Pancake Day this month, I received an encouraging letter
from one of our federal politicians who had taken part in the pancake
races in the civic square. She congratulated Pilgrim Church in its
efforts to bring church, community and business together with such an
event. The money raised has gone to UnitingCare, but there were over 20
Pilgrim congregation members who benefited by providing a venue for
bringing diverse people together.
A
week later we had a wonderful opening ceremony of Neshan, an art
installation of badges, in the city library. Neshan was put together by
an Iranian refugee who had spent several years in prison in Iran for
his activism, only to be placed in detention for a further five years
upon his arrival in Australia. Ardishir Gholipur’s exhibition of badges
reflects some of his passion for justice and serves as an outward
symbol of the pain and suffering he has experienced in his life. This
joint venture with the City Library has enabled Pilgrim to reach out to
another group of diverse people who like Pilgrim are passionate about
social justice. The feedback we have received about our involvement in
Nashan has been very positive with one person expressing surprise that
a church would be involved in such a venture. Yet, social justice
advocacy has always been a key part of Pilgrim’s mission to the
community.
And
on Thursday night we hosted a renowned theologian, Dr Val Webb who
brought new insights into how we see our God. Her lecture brought
people from as far as field as Penguin eager to be challenged in their
faith journey. Progressive theology is something else Pilgrim has to
offer people and goes much wider than the local neighbourhood.
Next
week we will also host a visiting monk from the Taize community who
will lead a Taize service next Tuesday at lunch time. This service
together with the meditative communion service we offer each Wednesday
at lunchtime is an offering Pilgrim has to yet another group of people.
So
this reflection upon a busy February has given me much heart as to the
substantial ministry that flows forth from Pilgrim. From the fun of
pancake day to the social activism of Neshan, from the challenge of
progressive theology to the mysticism of Taize, Pilgrim has much to
offer. For me this month has done much to define who we are as God’s
people in the centre of Launceston.
Tony Duncan
17 February, 2008
For many
people Wednesday 13th February 2008 was a red letter day, the
day the Government of Australia formally apologised to those indigenous
peoples who had been injured by government policies down through the
years of European habitation. I, along with countless others, was one
of those who shed a tear on Wednesday as I watched the government’s
apology unfurl.
And
as I listened to the stories of injustice and heartbreak from both our
Prime Minister and Leader of the Opposition, my mind went back to the
mid-seventies when as a young social worker in country NSW, I
discovered my own story of sadness and separation. I was then
supervising a teenaged Ward of the State named Maxine, who I discovered
had a mother and 6 other siblings still living. She knew nothing about
them. The children had all been made wards of the state in the sixties
and all seven were placed with different foster parents across the
length and breadth of the NSW. Some had managed to stay in contact with
their mother and had even found their way back to her, but Maxine and a
few of the younger ones had not. Indeed Maxine’s name had been changed
and she had been prevented from learning anything about her origins. As
she grew older, she became more and more desperate to discover who she
was. With some help from the Aboriginal community and the Department I
was able to bring about reunions for all the children and their mother.
I
mention this story to indicate only that the issue of the Stolen
Generations is not some remote historical event that does not touch us
personally, as some would have it, but something that was occurring as
late as the 1960’s.
I
have no doubt that many of the removals of children from parents were
necessary, indeed I have been witness to some of the situations that
led to court actions. For those situations I do not apologise. But for
others where evidence was flimsy and where no effort was made to keep
families together, I do apologise. And certainly an apology has been
necessary to those like Maxine, where little or no effort was made to
keep families together.
Given
all of the above, I have been saddened and angered by the graceless and
ignorant attitude of many who claim no apology was necessary. The
vehemence of some of the apology critics astounds me. The lack of
understanding of the effect of family separation saddens me deeply. If
our local newspaper is to be believed some 66% of it’s readers deemed
that an apology was unnecessary! Where’s
the compassion? Where’s the grace?
I
acknowledge that many good things occurred when children were taken
into care. But the good care they were afforded was simply their due.
But equally many lives were ruined by coming into care and this is what
we need to apologise for, so that healing might begin not only for the
indigenous peoples of this land but also for those of us who were part
of the system that removed children and even more importantly for our
nation. An apology has given all of us a chance for a new beginning.
Tony Duncan
10
February, 2008
As some of you may know I have a Muslim
son-in law, and each year come Ramadan, the holy month for Muslims, my
son-in law Zafer fasts from sunrise to sunset. He’s not particularly
devout, and certainly he is far from being a fundamentalist, but he
still fasts and my daughter has joined him in his fasting.
I have to say that I am impressed by this act of piety
designed to focus their body, mind and soul on the Being that has
created them.
So this Lent especially I am trying to
retrieve some of the spiritual disciplines I remembered practising as a
child, brought up as a Catholic. I remember clearly choosing to give up
something for Lent each year. Sadly,
however for most Protestants, Lent is a non-event. And that’s a pity. Jesus, in preparing himself for his ministry
we are told in the Gospels, chose to go off by himself, to fast and to
meditate. It was his preparation for the intensive ministry that was to
follow, and the gospel stories tell of how such disciplines brought him
closer to God.
The early church took Jesus’ example and
used the forty days leading up to Easter as a time when new initiates
to the faith, those who were to be baptised on Easter morning, would
fast and prepare themselves for their new life in Christ.
So I wonder if this Lent, as we focus on Jesus journey
to Cross and Tomb, we too might choose to focus our minds on some kind
of Lenten discipline. It might be choosing to go without something that
we enjoy, perhaps using the money otherwise spent for some particular
cause. It may be choosing to participate in one of the Lenten studies
that begin around Launceston during this coming week, or perhaps even
embarking in some kind of private devotion designed to focus our body,
mind and soul on the Being that has created us. Whatever the
discipline, I know that we will be richly blessed.
So let me leave you with the words of a
song from the Hymn Book:
May this Lenten discipline,
which we undertake with love,
turn our minds to things above.
Now we fast that we may feast
where the Lord of life presides
may our hunger be increased
for the bread which he provides.
As we keep this Lent with prayer
and from pleasures are withdrawn
minds and bodies we prepare
for the joy of Easter dawn.
Tony
Duncan
3
February, 2008
When
I was training as a social worker I spent some time in a residential
care unit for children with intellectual disabilities. And one of the
abiding memories of the place was a little boy with Downs Syndrome who
kept apologizing. I can hear him now, “I’m sorry. I’ll be goo-ood!” Not
that he’d done much wrong, but it was his learned way of developing
relationships. And I wonder if that’s not what saying you’re sorry is
all about – developing relationships. In apologizing first, he is
paving the way to entering relationship with me. Hence
my dismay at sections of the Australian community who are unwilling to
apologize, to say sorry to the indigenous people of Australia because
in this case they do have something to be sorry about.
I
started by social work career in NSW one year after the dismantling of
the Aboriginal Welfare Board. The Department I worked for took over the
functions of the old Board and with the responsibility came all the
baggage. We were the successors of those who had removed children
without just cause, and I discovered that if I was to develop any sort
of relationship with indigenous clients I had to acknowledge the wrong
done to them. This was no easy task given the fear and resentment that
formed a wall between us.
So as I see it, before we can empower indigenous people
to improve their living conditions, we need to say sorry, not for any
personal injury we may have caused, but for the systemic violence done
over generations to the indigenous people of this land. It’s the least
we do if we are fair dinkum about entering into relationship with them.
Tragically, it is a sad reflection of our money-obsessed society that
some have linked the tendering of an apology solely with claims for
damages. They claim that an apology will open a litigious avalanche of
damages claims. Whilst I believe that some form of restitutions need to
be made, it remains secondary to an apology. Money does little to mend
hurts, but saying sorry can lead to healing of relationships soured by
decades of distrust and enmity. It’s a way of starting again.
As a
Christian I see saying sorry as central to turning our lives around.
Acknowledging the wrong in any relationship is the only way of starting
over whether it be in a marriage relationship, a neighbourhood dispute
or any injury done to the other. Christians worship a God who in Jesus
Christ is only too willing to help us start over. Saying sorry to God
is a first step in turning our lives around to working in harness with
our God. Similarly, saying sorry to the indigenous people of Australia
is a first step in turning our community life around so that we can
work in harness for the betterment of our nation, Australia.
Tony Duncan
.
|
Email: pilgrim@tassie.net.au
Phone:
(03) 6331 8757
LIST
OF SERMONS
|
