As
I see it ...
By
Reverend Tony Duncan (mostly ...)
February 2010
- 28 February 2010
'The Preamble' text
audio (mp3)
- 21 February
2010 'The Post Christendom
Age' text
audio (mp3)
- 14 February
2010 'Be a Christ' text
audio
(mp3)
- 7 February
2010 'Marketing the
Church' text
audio
(mp3)
Novermber 2009
October 2009
September 2009
August 2009
July 2009
June
2009
May 2009
April
26 2009
Many
of you would have seen the news reports during the week of thousands of
Tamils
fleeing the violence of civil war in Sri Lanka. I for one will not
forget the
man in the bus holding his dead child with tears streaming down his
face. And the
civil war in Sri Lanka is but one of many conflicts around the world
that
result in the death of innocent civilians. In fact, in the last sixty
years the
overwhelming victims of war have not been the direct combatants but the
civilians caught up in their homes. It’s a fact that can be easy to
overlook as
we Australian mourn the deaths of soldiers in war zones who are
numbered in the
tens, and fail to see the massive carnage that is wreaked upon civilian
populations in those same war zones numbered in the thousands.
This
weekend we celebrate the sacrifice of servicemen in a war long past
when the
fighting was between armies on battlefields away from people’s homes
and where
deaths of civilians were the exception rather than the rule. Modern
warfare has
changed all that.
So it should come as
no surprise that the numbers of refugees worldwide can be numbered in
the
millions. And far from being “economic” refugees, these are people
fleeing for
their lives. And neither should we be surprised that this year there
has been an
increase of boats carrying people to our back door seeking sanctuary.
Claims
that the reason for this is that the federal government has relaxed our
immigration would be laughable if it were not so sad. Listening to
these echoes
from the past I imagine families fleeing the terror of the Taliban or
the Sri
Lankan army and saying to one another, “Let’s
go to Australia – their immigration laws have been relaxed and we only
need to
catch a leaky boat and travel 500 kilometres and all our troubles will
be over.” Of course they don’t.
The
facts are these: close to 4800 people made a claim for asylum in
Australia in
2008 (compared, for example, to close to 37,000 in Canada and 31,000 in
Italy).
Most of them arrived by air with valid tourist or student visas, with
less than
180 arriving by boat.
Fewer
than 50 per cent of total on-shore claims submitted by those arriving
by air
succeeded in the refugee determination process. Close to 90 per cent of
those
arriving by boat did.
As
I See It the
hysteria being created once again by some
politicians and some media outlets flies in the face of how we
Australians like
to see ourselves- always on the side of the battler and people who
would give
you the shirt of our back. Let’s not return to detention camps and
Pacific Solutions,
so we can teach these “illegals” that Australia is not a soft touch. It
doesn’t
work and only serves to paint this country as mean-spirited
internationally.
As
Christians committed to showing Christ’s
hospitality and love to the marginalised, we need to be on the side of
the
refugee. After all it is the industrialized “Christian” West who
provided the
arms for these wars of displacement.
April 19 2009
Most
of you will know that I spend a considerable amount of time taking
services in
nursing homes. It’s a ministry that gives me a great deal of
satisfaction, and
I love listening to the gentle wisdom that comes from people in their
eighties
and nineties who have lived their lives to the full. Not all of them
have a
background in church so often they come with refreshing insights about
faith
and in the main these wonderful people are far more open and generous
in their
approach to religion in general and Christianity in particular.
But
occasionally you get surprises. Take the other day, when out of the
blue this
serene old lady, who at first I thought was not all there, asked a
question in
the middle of the service that was obviously playing on her mind. She
had been
told once by a pastor, she said, that in the Book of Revelations there
was a
part that said that if you had given you life to the Lord and became a
backslider you would be lost forever. The language was familiar to me
because
of a brush with fundamentalism in my younger years, but I was still
taken
aback. And she knew her Bible, because she went on to say that she also
knew
that were verses where Jesus asked us to forgive seventy times seven
times.
“Doesn’t the Bible contradict itself then?”
Wow!
Out of the mouths of children and the elderly! What a question to be
blessed
with. I don’t know what God she had been introduced to when she was
younger,
but it certainly was not the God of the Bible. For from beginning to
end, the
Bible tells a story of God’s love for his creation. The Hebrew
Scriptures are
full of examples of a God that reaches out to his/her children to care
for
them. And wasn’t that Jesus’ message as he sought to show people the
great love
of God.
As I See It, Easter is a time
when we can
see most clearly the love God has for us all. The Easter God, the God
of the
entire Bible, is a God of repeated second chances. A God of
resurrection, who
seeks only to be at one with her/his creation. The hope of Easter is
that new
life is always possible. As I explained to my aged questioner, none of
us can
backslide enough to be out of God’s forgiving love and grace. No matter
how
deep a hole we dig for our selves or for God’s creation – there is
always hope
of resurrection. In a world that seems to be spiralling from one
catastrophe to
another, this is the Christian hope “Nothing
can separate us from the love of God in Jesus Christ.” Not even
fundamentalist pastors!
April 12 2009 - Easter Sunday
You
know, it’s strange that Christians
make such a big deal of a public execution. For after all that’s what
last week
was all about. It was about a man who got the powers-that-be so upset
that they
had to get rid of him. Politicians and religious leaders found it so
hard to
deal with someone who saw through their pompous veneer. Here was man
whose
message of peace and love open to all, threatened their comfortable
existence
by insisting that we are all children of God. Here
was a man who talked about a kingdom that belonged
to God, not to
earthly rulers, and here was a man who encouraged sinners, misfits, and
the
unclean to believe that they were just as acceptable to God as any
priest, king
or merchant. So it was hardly surprising that he met such a sticky end.
Jesus’
end was the end that that has awaited all radical reformers down
through the
centuries who will not compromise with a corrupt power base. Jesus did
not know
how to play the game.
<>But
it was not the end for Jesus.
That’s what Easter Sunday is all about. It’s not that easy to shackle
the
truth. The Resurrection of Jesus gives us all hope that truth and love
can
never be muzzled, even when its enemies resort to lies, manipulation
and
violence, to maintain themselves in power.
In the Risen Christ, God gives us all
hope for the future. When we look at the state of our world today,
where greed
and self-interest threatens the living of so many of the world’s
population,
not to mention the planet itself, it is good to tell and live the story
of a man
whose obedience to his Maker is raised to life. Surely that’s the story
we
need, to overcome our economic and ecological decay. It’s the story of
a man
who loses his life so others can live. Perhaps our times are telling us
that we
need to lose our lives of economic and ecological privilege so that
others can
live.
As
followers of the Risen Christ surely
that is the message for Easter. As in nature so with us – new life
comes out of
dying. Jesus radical Gospel, is one that even the pious Christian finds
hard to
accept in our day to day living. It’s easy to confine Jesus and the
Resurrection to an Easter celebration. But what happens if Easter is
unleashed?
What happens when we ask questions about how we can live the Christ
life? What
does it mean a life totally committed to God, to Love, to Truth.
As
I See It when
we start living such a life you we can expect
opposition, but we can also expect new life, a life in Jesus where we
can see
the world as Jesus saw it, in need of liberation.
April 5 2009
Not
that long ago I was talking with someone who seemed to have an opinion
on everyone. This particular person had the world neatly divided into
the goodies and the baddies. There were those who were totally evil and
those who were totally good. It’s a picture that was familiar to me as
I thought back to George W. Bush who also had neatly packaged the world
into the “Axis of Evil” and the “Coalition of the Willing.”
But in my opinion there are a few problems with such a world-view.
People generally are never all bad nor are they all good. Indeed I’ve
learned to be very wary of saints, especially those who revel in the
title and in my work as a social worker and as a minister I have yet to
meet someone who is totally irredeemable. Spend some time with anyone
and you’ll soon find the truth of the matter.
Those people who my friend labels as evil usually have stories to tell.
Spend enough time to get behind the angry or evil or manipulative front
and you will always find a vulnerable human being desperately seeking
the understanding and acceptance of the other. With such people, I have
to admit, it easier just to write them off. That’s the way they are and
they’ll never change. It’s easy to keep them at a distance and your
world-view is preserved – “There I told you they were no good.” What is
more difficult, more scary, is trying to reach out to such people and
so many of us don’t bother and our world remains neatly divided.
But
this is not the way of Christ. It was not Jesus’ way. “Judge not lest
you be judged.” And “Let those who are without sin cast the first
stone.” Jesus appreciated fully that everyone has been made in the
image of God and he treated people accordingly. Any anger on his part
was for those in power who sought to treat people in black and white
ways, and they almost without exception were the religious people of
his day.
As I See It,
most of the people we will meet in our lifetime will never be “totally
evil.” But we will meet friendless and isolated individuals who have
learned to behave badly as a means of surviving in a world they
perceive to be hostile to them. It is to them that the grace that come
from God needs to be extended, even when they let you down or seemingly
confirm your original judgement. Most of us are able to do this with
our children who get into trouble. Few of us would categorise them as
totally evil and most are willing to welcome the prodigal home. If
indeed we believe that we are sons and daughters of God then perhaps we
need to treat each other as family. Then I believe it will be
easier to hold fire on our judgements and reach out to the other as God
in Jesus has reached out to us.
March
22 2009
Last Wednesday night, Pilgrim hosted a
group of Indonesian
pilgrims, seven Muslim leaders and seven Christian leaders, all singing
from
the same hymn sheet. And the song they are singing and the song that we
all
sang, hands clasped in a large circle, at the end of the night was
this:
Pray for the peace
of humanity
Pray for the peace
of humanity
Pray for the peace
of humanity
Humanity shall
live in peace.
Syallom, salam,
shanti,
sadhu,
siancai, syallom
Humanity shall
live in peace.
And these
fourteen
people not only sing this prayer, they live it out. They shared with us
stories
of their movement called SOBAT - the
Indonesian word for “friendship.” They told of their
invitation to grassroots community in Central Java to meet together, no
matter
the faith, to work on the problems, economic, social and religious in
their
small communities. I have to say that it was a refreshing change to
hear of
peacemaking rather than conflict. Of particular interest was the
Children’s SOBAT where children are taught to
appreciate rather than fear differences. And all this is occurring in a
society
that has emphasised religious differences in its requiring it citizens
to
belong to one of six authorised religions in Indonesia.
The secret of their success is that it is
a grassroots
organisation where local people are invited to meet and share their
faith and
out of the sharing comes a desire to work towards developing their
communities
through their own efforts. Indeed they are wary of outside offers of
help,
believing that more often than not the offers come with strings
attached. But
at the heart of the SOBAT movement is
the simple belief that, as people learn to be
friends, they will want to work together whatever their religious
belief. They
will develop an acceptance that we are all children of God.
As I See It we
here in Launceston at the inauguration of the Launceston Regional
Parish have
much to learn from SOBAT. On the
surface our Uniting Church does not face the same differences that are
so
evident in Indonesian society, but we do have differences.
Some are based upon lofty theological
principals, others on liturgical differences, and still others based a
history
that still haunts and hurts. No matter what the reason, SOBAT
–friendship offers a way forward. As we develop our new
Regional
Parish may it be done with a sense of SOBAT.
But I have to say that already we have
seen evidence of
SOBAT. The Pancake Day celebration where we shared resources and
personnel has
brought our congregations closer together in friendship. My prayer is
that as a
new regional parish we would learn how to trust each other more,
looking to
those things that unite us rather than those difference that often
divide. Why
not look to the resurrection in the new creation that is Launceston
Regional
Parish.
March 15
2009
As our world wrestles with the tentacles of the World
Financial Crisis I wonder if there is not a more insidious crisis that
is enveloping all of us. Like shellfish gently being lulled into sleep
in the boiling pot, perhaps we humans are left unaware of the impending
global catastrophe that is Global Climate Change. Our politicians dance
their political quadrilles to the tune of corporate vested interests
and we look on in dismay. Governments around the world look for
solutions to our financial crisis when all around them climactic events
threaten not just our bottom line but our very existence.
As I See It it’s well beyond time for Christians to speak
out about the energy wasting first world. Countries like Australia, who
have profited from unfettered industrial growth at the expense of poor
developing countries are the ones that now need to show the way to a
new way of being – a new world order if you like, that in caring for
God’s creation will ultimately benefit not just humankind but the very
earth itself. And this is not a political call for us to demonstrate
our “green” credentials, it’s far too important for that. At the heart
of our climate crisis is the same spiritual malaise that has brought
about our financial collapse. Christians and people of the Spirit
everywhere need speak our so that we can all live the lives God created
us for. So here’s a little poem from the still pristine Isle if Iona contained in ‘Out of Iona’ by Jan Sutch
Pickard.
Show
us the river of the water of life,
Crystal clear - as clear as the calm waters around Iona
But not salt -
unless with honest sweat or healing tears.
Show us the river of the water of life,
and let us wade into the water:first with cupped hands
quenching our thirst;
then wading deeper
to be washed clean, to be blessed.
Show us the river of the water of
life
where the old order passes away -
is water under the bridge -
whwre there is no more pollution or drought,
where the face of our suffering world,
smudged with blood and grine and tears
can be washed clean.
Show us the river of the water of
life:
may we immerse ourselves in it,
be carried out of our depth
by the currents of your love -
abandoning ourselves into your hands,
being healed
and made whole.
And show us the trees of life -
the green and growing trees,
with deep roots in the flowing water,
with branches freely embracing the sky -
fruitful all year round:
part of creation and creative,
with fruits that delight
and with leaves that heal.
Then show us how to be, ourselves,
like trees planted by the waterside:
part of creation, amid destruction:
and creative beings, amid discord;
where there is division, diverse;
beautiful in your eyes, as we become whole.
Unfolding leaves, fragile, translucent,
veined with living water, green with hope:
leaves that make a difference -
leaves for a healing of the nations
March 8 2009
I
don’t know if it is with amusement or a degree of sadness that I have
been reading the letters to the editor section of our local paper. Over
the past few weeks there has been raging a controversy about the place
of Christianity in the world. On the one hand we have fervent
Christians claiming that the Gospel of Jesus Christ is the only answer
to all the worlds problems and on the other hand we have equally
fervent non-believers claiming that Christianity in particular and
religion in general is the cause of all the world’s problems. Don’t you
just love black and white arguments!
Don’t
get me wrong, I believe that a faithful following of the way of Christ
does contain the solutions of the world’s problems and at their best
Christians have done much to bring healing, justice and enlightenment
to the world. Take away the work of Christian organisations in the
areas of healing, education and community development around the world
and the world would be a much gloomier place. In Australia, if tomorrow
the combined efforts of all our churches were to cease, our society
would be in chaos. But as I said, it is at our best that we do much to
make our world a better place.
The
problem is we are not always at our best. Our critical correspondents
point to the great harm done in the name of Christianity and other
religions. Religion for them is divisive, it’s been the cause of wars,
and when it is accompanied by fundamentalist exclusive claims such as,
ours is the only way, it is corrosive of society. And you’ve got to
admit that there is some validity in what they say. But it is not the
whole story. They feel that secular humanism can provide the world’s
answers. And to say that secular humanism has all the answers, is a
claim that calls for as much faith as our claim that Jesus the Christ
is the Way.
As I See It,
caricaturing each others position with recourse to extreme examples is
something that our politicians engage in and seldom gets to the truth
of the matter. If we are to seriously address the world’s problems of
poverty, political tyranny, environmental exploitation, and
warmongering then we will need to have people of good-will working
together. And that for me is not achieved by petty point-scoring in the
pages of local newspapers, it needs us to be more aware of what we can
do together regardless of our faith position or lack thereof. And it
needs us to practise reconciliation, to admit our past errors and get
on with living in the here and now. I fear if we continue to look for
what divides us rather than what we can do together our world will
continue to spiral into chaos.
Christianity at its best has the Way of reconciliation
and renewal to bring to the table, but it is not the only way.
Let’s look for partners in the healing our world.
March
1 2009
This
week I had the privilege of listening to three wise old men. The
University of Tasmania had organised Peter Cundall, Buck Emberg, and
Professor Henry Reynolds to have a conversation about Survival -
21st Century Lessons from the Great Depression. Peter Cundall was his
usual irrepressible self encouraging one and all to rip up their
front lawns and plant vegies; and both Peter and Buck Emberg had family
stories about growing up in the Depression and it was left to Henry
Reynolds to bring some order into the conversation. It was a great
night.
As the conversation flowed the three of them talked of the great
malaise that is the Global Financial Crisis. They talked of the greed
that fuelled the blowing up of the world economic balloon. They
bemoaned the inaction of the world leaders who have encouraged us to
believe that economies would grow and grow, and they pointed to
economic snake-oil salesman who convinced greedy investors that money
could be conjured out of thin air. The audience participated in the
discussion offering political, economic and financial solutions
to our current parlous economic state.
Listening to these wise men I began to wonder if there was not
something else other than Global Financial Crisis to be concerned
about. Something that had more to do with ethics and morality than with
economics and politics.
As I See It,
in Western developed nations we have behaved as if there is no
tomorrow. Public ethical behaviour has been driven by greed. There
appeared to be no shame in our financial leaders accepting obscene
amounts of money as reward for ensuring that the financial illusion
that allowed us all to live beyond our means would continue. Even now
with the financial tower of cards falling about our ears, they continue
to walk away, seemingly without conscience, with multi-million dollar
payouts.
But all this should come as no surprise. When ethical behaviour is
turned on its head by national leaders, when individualisation is king
and the common good common good is ignored and we are encouraged to pay
less and less tax, we should not wonder at the collapse of communities.
Having said all that, however, the current bushfire emergency gives
clues as to how we can redeem ourselves. All of us have been moved by,
and perhaps participated in, acts of kindness that go far beyond
looking after number one. Through these fires we have started to see
the value of strong communities banding together in times of trouble.
This is exactly what Buck and Peter said got their families through the
Great Depression. Listening to them, it was as if they were making an
appeal for our society to return to basic teachings of Jesus, to “love
our neighbours as ourselves,” something that we all have forgotten in
our haste to become rich.
<> Wouldn’t be wonderful if we all spent less time on making
money and
<>more time on making
community.
February
22nd 2009
Australia
is a
land of such vast contrasts-a land of
indescribable beauty but a land of merciless savagery- a
land that can provide great riches for its
inhabitants but a land that can never be taken for granted. And this
summer,
more than most, these truths have overwhelmed us in their intensity.
While the
north of our country is inundated with flood, the south swelters and
fire
wreaks its ghastly havoc over thousands of hectares, taking trees,
houses and
lives in its indiscriminate wake.
This
Sunday has
been designated as a day of national mourning, a time for all
Australians to
stop and take stock of our lives in the wake of a national catastrophe.
I’d be
surprised if there is anyone in Australia who has been left untouched
by our
fires and our floods, the response to the various national appeals is
ample
evidence of that. And as we remember
this Sunday in churches, civic halls and private homes, we will be
remembering
and mourning other losses experienced in years gone by. Fire victims
from
Hobart, Canberra, the Blue Mountains, from memories from ’39, ’67 and
’83 will
experience flashbacks; flood and storm victims from Darwin, the Hunter
Valley
and South East Queensland will be reminded of the devastation wreaked
upon
their lives. All of us will be remembering, all of us will be mourning.
And
such events unite us as no other.
So
let me give
you a story and prayer to help us in our mourning. The story is from
Dorothy
McRae-McMahon, the second a prayer penned in response to the recent
Victorian
Bushfires.
On
two occasions
I have very nearly had a property burnt by bushfires – the last time
the last
time the fire went right to the back wall of the house and it was only
saved by
the firefighters. I remember trying to decide what to take in my car as
I was ordered
to evacuate; what was it that I held most precious in that house? After
the
second fire I walked down to what had been my garden and saw stark tree
trunks
some of them surprisingly ochre red among the black and bare earth and
uncovered rock faces sprinkled with ash.
I
knew that the
Australian bushland is to some extent regenerated by fire – that we are
intruders in an ancient pattern of death and renewal which was deeply
understood by the original custodians of our land. But that was of
small
comfort at the time, although I did marvel at the eucalypts springing
forth
with new leaves within days of being burnt one would have thought, to
extinction.
What
I remember
most was the bush suddenly becoming my enemy rather than my friend, its
closeness a threat rather than gift to my life. That faded as rime went
on, but
I now look at it with different eyes.
As
I See It
we all need to look at God’s creation with
different eyes if we are to live in harmony not only with this land we
love but
with the whole planet.
February 15th 2009
Last
Sunday my wife Jenny and I were in
Melbourne, Narre Warren to be precise, within smelling distance of the
6 houses
that were razed to the ground there. We were there with just the
clothes we
stood up in because our all our belongings were back at Warragul in
Gippsland,
where our other daughter lives and road closures faced us with the
prospect
that we would be returning to Tasmania the following day with just the
clothes
we stood up in. Fortunately, however, the road was reopened and we able
to get
our belongings, and unlike hundreds of others, to return safely home.
It was a light
brush with disaster and even that was terrible.
But
the time spent wondering how we
would get back made us reflect upon what is important in life and what
is not.
Humbled for a season, you are forced to examine priorities - so how
much more
those who have suffered the full fury of the bushfires of last weekend.
And
as we travelled home we were further
humbled as we listened to a grandmother talking by phone to her
daughter still
caught up in the fires as she ferried her granddaughter to safety in
Tasmania.
And of course we've all listened to the news reports, of acts of
heroism, of
lives changed irrevocably, of whole districts suddenly made aware of
what is
important and what is not.
And
the days that have followed since
that savage weekend have served to show just how resilient and generous
Australians are as a people. It's as if we have all shared in the
struggle
against these wild fires, all shared in the loss, all shared in the
fears as
fires flare in unexpected places. And such sharing causes us to share
even more
- the millions of dollars raised almost overnight, the offers of
clothing,
accommodation, and food that have come from everywhere. This great
natural
calamity has served to bring us together as a nation and we put aside
our
difference - we've suddenly discovered what is important and what is
not.
As I
See It, the behaviour of the
Australian people in the past week reflects what a community would be
like if
it were to follow the teachings of Jesus. It's the kind of community
that we
are seeking to develop at Pilgrim, a community that responds with
generosity, a
willingness to go the extra mile, a willingness to share at a deep
level, not
just material things but to share our joys, our sorrows, our deep
longings, and
our hidden fears.
Such
a community is hard to maintain.
We're human and sadly in the coming weeks people will return to normal.
We will
seek to apportion blame, be outraged at people who seek to wrought the
system.
Petty party politics will raise their ugly head and compassion fatigue
will set
in. But it needn't be so.
For a
short time in the face of a
national disaster we have been at our best. With God's help we can
always be at
our best. That would be my prayer for Australia, indeed for the whole
world.
February 1st 2009
As he saw it ... Tony Duncan
November 9 2008
Last
night our daughter texted us from Istanbul with the question - “Is it
weird that I started to cry when I watched the news coverage of Obama’s
win?” I quickly replied that that she was not alone and that I
had already received a phone call from her grandmother saying the same
thing.
And
it seemed that all over the world there was a similar emotional
reaction. The response that particularly made me smile was the news
that Kenya had declared a national holiday because of Obama’s
connection to that country. Indeed it was reported that the village in
which Barak Obama’s paternal grandmother lives has recently been given
a makeover in anticipation of his election. More telling are the
comments coming from Palestinian, Iraqi and Afghani leaders, comments
that speak more of hope, peace, and a brighter future.
So
what’s happening with our world? Has an election in one country, albeit
the most powerful in the world, has that event suddenly changed the
world? Of course not but what it has done is provide a focus for hope
that is much needed in a world wracked with division and uncertainty.
The fact that an African-American can become the leader of a country
that a generation ago supported institutionalised racism offers hope
for all those places where inequality and exploitation is rife. Just as
important is the form of leadership displayed by Obama. He refused to
engage in the standard political games of vilification and character
assassination. He came to the election with a programme of reform based
on helping the most vulnerable in has society. Time will tell if he is
able to provide the real social change that will revolutionise not only
his American society but relationships between countries in the world
community.
<>As I See It, the need for principled leadership in all spheres of our
society’s life is badly needed. Obama’s programme and values are but a
reflection of those values proclaimed by Jesus Christ. It would appear
that Obama espouses the kind of servant leadership that Jesus preached
and lived. However such a leadership path is a perilous one. Jesus
realised that as he wakened the political and religious wrath of those
who enjoyed the privileges of their society. The privileged of our
world will not want their status quo changed. It’s my prayer that
Christians in America and the world will support Obama, for his
programme of reform is far more in line with the gospel of Jesus Christ
than the moralistic crusade that was waged against him by conservative
Christian forces in the U.S. during the election campaign. Pray for
Obama and all our political leaders that they might learn the value of
servant leadership and be willing to work for the poor and marginalised
of our world.
January 25th 2009
We’re
on the eve of another Australia Day and once again the old arguments
are being raised for and against holding such an event on 26th
January. My late father, whose birthday the 26th
is, always thought it was a perfectly suitable date since it ensured he
always had a day off to celebrate his birthday. But the 26th
is not for everyone. Friday’s “Examiner” had two well thought out
reflections on Australia Day and the one by Michael Mansell
particularly caught my eye. Normally the argument about celebrating the
day becomes heated with both sides caricaturing the others positions.
“Invasion Day” is always a term calculated to divide rather than unite,
so it was some delight and relief when I read Michael’s article not
deriding the need to celebrate our “Australian-ness” but to argue about
the date.
For
a small but significant proportion of our population, the 26th
January is a date that marks the beginning of a dislocation of a way of
life that went back millennia. As a Scot, it would be akin to my fellow
Scots being asked to celebrate 17th
April in Britain as a national holiday –the date that the Scots were
finally defeated at Culloden Moor, (as I’m sure you all know.)
When
Australia was a younger, brasher country than it is now, no thought was
given to original inhabitants. There wasn’t the need to even
acknowledge them, and policies were framed to ensure that the problem
of people in a “Terra Nullius” would eventually be bred out of
existence. But we are now a little older and wiser as a country. Last
year’s formal apology by our PM Kevin Rudd went a long way to healing
some of the hurt that has divided indigenous and settler Australia. It
marked a maturing of our national psyche and hopefully will lead to
significant physical improvements in the lives of the first Australians.
Michael
Mansell in his brief article has called upon church leaders to heed his
call to work towards choosing another date to celebrate our nationhood.
As I See It,
in calling upon the church, he is tacitly acknowledging our chequered
contribution to the condition of present day First Australians, for in
the early years of our nation, the church was not only at the forefront
of improving their lot, it was sadly also part of the problem that has
damaged First and Later Australians alike.
So I challenge each of you to this Australia Day to see
the day from the viewpoint of the marginalised.
At Pilgrim we claim to be an open community – open to
all. Perhaps it is now time for us to celebrate our nationhood on a day
that all of us can truly accept with pride. A symbolic act, yes, but as
we Christian can strongly testify to, - one that can assume a power of
its own far beyond the initial act. The apology was a start. A day we
can all call our own would be powerful next step on the road to
reconciliation.
December
21 2008
I
wonder if I’m the only one who feels a little stressed, sad and
bewildered by
Christmas. A religious celebration that marks for Christians, the
coming into
the world of a child who we believe to be God, has been turned on its
head.
Just how glitzy can a stable become? Just how cute can a baby be, born
in a
stable in an occupied country? And how can we turn a birth that sprung
from
poverty into a commercial feast, obscenely excessive? And the sense of
obligation that arises from the need to play happy families at this
time of
year indicates how far we have strayed from the birthplace of the
Prince of
Peace. This Christmas especially, I have heard a number of people tell
me of
how they are dreading their yearly family gatherings. I wonder if a
large part
of the problem is not that in this materialistic age we have mistaken
excessive
partying for Christmas joy, sentimentality for hope, complements of the
season
for peace, and extravagant gift giving for love.
But
on the bright side of Christmas I have discovered that I am not alone
in my
concern and there are many in our community who are stepping back from
the
commercial feast of Christmas. In a season when we are encouraged to
shop till
we drop, many are giving of time, talent and money to make Christmas
better for
others. The Basket Brigade, the Empty Christmas Tree and Christmas Bowl
have
all reaped an increased harvest in this year of financial meltdown.
Perhaps in
a world fearful of ecological and financial meltdown people are turning
to
spiritual values to sustain them, values that are clearly on display
when we
contemplate the birth, life , death and resurrection of Jesus of
Nazareth.
And
lest you think I’m losing my sense of humour let me direct you to a
“wicked”
website, www.shipoffools.com that
deals with the excesses of Christmas by poking fun
at them. They
have painstakingly gathered together “Twelve
days of Kitschmas” – a list of the more bizarre Christmas gifts on
sale
around the world. They include a Jesus Piggy Bank and a Credit Card
Rosary for
those worried about the world financial crisis; a Jesus Shaves mug for
the man
who has everything, and my particular favourite, a Rubber Duckie
Nativity
Scene!
As I See It, It’s all a long way
from a
Bethlehem stable.
So let me conclude
by wishing you all a peaceful Christmas full of real joy and a hope
that is
grounded in the knowledge that we are loved deeply by a God who was
born in
stable 2000 years ago. Jenny and I continue to be blessed by the
Pilgrim
community – a community that extends far beyond our walls – so a
blessed
Christmas to all those who read this via the web.
May that God find
you all this Christmas!
December
14th 2008
It’s
fair to
say that in ordained ministry, the first three years in any
congregation are
all about the minister getting his/her bearings. From experience - the
most
productive period for a minister is between year 4 and year 8 and I
believe
that this is the case for me at Pilgrim. I have to say that in the last
six
months there has been a coming together of circumstances that leave me
at the
end of 2008 with an excitement and enthusiasm for the future at
Pilgrim.
I
say this despite the small
reduction in the size of the congregation. The recent stewardship
figures
should give us all heart, especially since at the time of writing this
our
deficit looks like being reduced from $14, 000 to less than $3,000,
this
despite the current financial crisis.
But
for me one of the
highlights of 2008 is the establishment of a “mums and bubs” group a
joint
initiative of the Pastoral Care group and the church council. There are
ten
families involved and I hope the rest of the congregation can get
behind them
by providing occasional grandparents for them. The numbers of baptisms
this
year are also heartening.
In
addition there are the various
opportunities offered to us through our connections with the community.
UnitingCare,
Ed Zone, Youth on Paterson, and the Craft Market are all God-given
opportunities for us to practise radical hospitality. A year
ago I took
part an Inner City Ministry trip with Andrew Seen and the most vibrant
congregations were those who were open and generous enough to share
that
radical hospitality. We have the suite of buildings, and now the
tenants with
whom we can engage. Sharing our property will always pose risks, but we
are
learning to be a risk-taking community because risk-takers are people
who have
a strong sense of who they are. I believe here at Pilgrim we have that
strong
sense. We offer a distinctive theology to the people of Launceston that
I
believe is not available in other congregations. I believe that we take
seriously our claim to be a welcoming and inclusive community that does
not
exist merely for the benefit of our members.
Last
weekend we had a practical
demonstration in sharing our property for the benefit of the wider
community.
The Basket Brigade, a secular charity, used our church sanctuary as
warehouse
and the worship centre was totally reorganised, with tables laden with
food and
Christmas presents taking pride of place. Pilgrim members worked
shoulder to
shoulder with people with no church connections, all eager to offer
something
back to the community. The holy and the secular were blurred, but we
were one
in our caring. As one of the non-church people were heard to say, “This
is what
church should really be about”
As
we make ready to go into 2009
we sense the opportunities to reach out in faith - to take seriously
our stated
aim to be a shining light of Christ’s love in the centre of Launceston .
December
7th 2008
I’ve
just returned from our worship centre and I have to say it looks
anything but a sanctuary for worship. And it’s wonderful! All the
chairs have been pushed to the front and the church looks like a food
warehouse. The Basket Brigade has come to Pilgrim, courtesy of one of
our members Ron Batt, and consequently many of our church members are
joining with school children and members of the community with no
church affiliation, in packing food hampers for Christmas. I’ve spent
much of the last few days with my head in a wheelie-bin fishing out
food items, so when it came to writing an As I See It, I thought I’d
borrow someone else’s words. These words have been penned by a fellow
Scot, Peter Millar who is no stranger to Pilgrim and are contained in a
refection called “Journeying towards Christmas in a Fragile World,”
contained in a Wild Goose publication called ‘Candles and Conifers.’ It describes how we can live with hope in a
world that needs to pack food hampers for the poor at Christmas….
….It
seems like a cliché, but we certainly live in fragile times,
permeated with a range of new uncertainties for our planet and
ourselves. Many of the familiar markers are moving. For millions of our
sisters and brothers these are dark days. And into this reality breaks
the message of the first Christmas morning- God’s surprising response
to a world in need.
And
for those of us who believe in an engaged Christianity, which takes
seriously the strange pluralities and ambiguities of these times, the
question remains: How do we celebrate the amazingly good news of the
incarnation while remaining in touch with this suffering which touches
into the daily lives of perhaps the majority of our sisters and
brothers? This is a huge question. It’s clear that we cannot celebrate
Christmas in some kind of false comfort, rich in luxury goodies,
disconnected from the world’s suffering. And we certainly cannot
retreat into the superficial Christian fundamentalism which regards the
world as essentially a ’dark place’ that must be left behind at all
costs…
When I worked in the East End of Glasgow, we had a poster
in the church which said simply: Let Go, Let God. As I rushed around,
busy with many things, I sometimes thought of these words, and
questioned them. Since then my journey has taken me to live in
different cultures. It was in India, our home for several years that I
began to learn, (ever so slowly) what it really means to ‘let go’ while
at the same time, being engaged with the situation around me.
In these days of preparation before Christmas the Spirit
invites us to let go. A letting go of our often over-active minds so
that our souls can more clearly illumine our understanding of these
confused times in which both people and the Earth are screaming in
pain. A moment to be still and listen to God; a moment of engaged
listening, of being centred in our depths.
So this Christmas why not Let Go and Let God……..
November 30th 2008
Some
of you may
have listened to the late night religion programme with John Cleary on
ABC
radio last Sunday night. It was billed as a look at “the not so Uniting
Church.” The programme I’m told
consisted of two UCA members from opposite wings of our church going
hammer and
tongs about the issue of homosexuality. And whilst such theological
contests
may good for the ratings, I wonder about their worth to the development
of
people’s spirituality. Consequently I declined the invitation to listen
to the
spectacle.
But
I wonder if such an event is not indicative of what is wrong with our
world. It
seems easier to highlight differences than to look for connections.
Every day
our media is eager to highlight conflict and difference. If you want a
story,
go to the extremes – the harmonious centre is always too boring. So it
is that
our local paper fans the fires of controversy in the great
evolution/creation
debate and the ongoing God/Atheism tussle. In each, extreme positions
attract
the headlines, no matter that the majority of us live in the messy
middle.
As
I See It,
such reporting generates disharmony
and disunity and sheds little light on the issues. It seems the
antithesis of
what being a Christian is all about. Jesus in the Gospel of John prays
that his
followers be one, just as he and the Father are one. It’s a prayer for
integration and I wonder if our world as a whole need to hear such a
plea. More
than any other time in history we need to be approaching problems of
human
existence with oneness. People in general, need to look towards actions
that
will serve the common good rather than actions that are self serving,
group-serving, nation serving or even species serving. When issues are
as
severe as those facing humanity in our present age it’s time to stop
our
individualistic grandstanding and look to how we can work together.
If,
like me, you believe that our problems all stem from a disconnect with
our
spiritual nature then surely it is time for people of spirit, no matter
what
the faith, or the denomination, to cease our petty bickering and work
towards
the common ground that is there in all world religions and even within
the
obscene number of Christian denominations. It’s about letting go and
letting
the spirit common to us all have her way.
On
a day when the Uniting Congregations
of Launceston gather to worship together in the one place, surely this
is a
modelling for others to see and to embrace. Operating as one is
something our
congregations will need to embrace more and more. It
need not be thought of as a threat, but
rather an opportunity to embrace the diversity that can feed the spirit
in all
of us.
November
23rd 2008
I’ve
just returned from a pastoral visit, but it was not to someone you’d
see week
by week at worship at Pilgrim. You see the Pilgrim congregation is much
bigger
than those who attend Sunday worship. The couple I visited run a
business and
are not able to get to church on a Sunday and increasingly they
represent a
group of people who would consider themselves Christian but are not
able
worship at the usual time. It’s a problem for churches that will only
grow with
the increasing secularisation of our community. Children play sport on
Sundays
and with people working six days a week often Sunday is the only day
available
for family time. If we are to connect with such people then we have to
find a
new way to be church.
One
way of achieving connections
is through offering different times for people to worship. Already our
small
mid-week communion service attracts people who are unable to worship at
Pilgrim
on a Sunday. Next year it is my hope to offer a Saturday Night service,
at
least on a monthly basis. And of course if we have enough volunteers it
may be
possible to open the church through the week for people to drop in a
pray. It’s
significant that we’ve already had a number of prayer requests through
the
Pilgrim prayer basket that we have installed in the walkway, again from
people
who I believe are part of Pilgrim’s extended community of faith.
Another
initiative in recent
weeks has been the start of a Mums and Bubs group. If we are to connect
with
young families then we need to have opportunities for community outside
Sunday
worship. It’s significant that the majority of those mums going to the
group
are from interstate or overseas and have no extended family to help
them here.
How can Pilgrim members be church to these young families?
As
I See It,
it’s all about connections, and Pilgrim is well placed to reach out
with the
Good News of Jesus Christ. The Saturday Craft Market, whilst not a
Pilgrim
initiative, takes place on our property and we would remiss in not
making
connections with the hundred who walk through our building on a
Saturday
morning. I’m hopeful that we might lure people into our magnificent
worship
centre if the doors of our church building were open on a Saturday
morning and
so I’ve placed a roster outside on the prayer table for anyone who is
willing
to sit in the church for an hour on a Saturday morning welcoming people
to our
church. I’m also hopeful of luring our previous organist back to play
the organ
for one of the Saturdays.
Pilgrim
is a community and not a suite
of building to be jealously guarded for the use of the worshippers of
Pilgrim
Church. We have numerous opportunities to make connections not so that
the
church congregation might grow in numbers, though this might happen,
but
primarily we need to connect with the community around us because it is
Christ’s way, - bringing the inclusive
love of Christ to our community.
November 16th 2008
A
couple of weeks ago I received a fat envelope from the local council.
It was crammed full of information regarding our application to serve
Tea, Coffee and Slices after the Christmas Parade in a couple of week’s
time. APEX who are organising the Parade also required that we provide
them with a copy of our Public Liability insurance. And all this got me
to thinking of how risk-averse we’ve become as a society. We live in
fear and seek always to protect ourselves, and when something bad does
happen we need to know who is responsible and to ensure someone pays
the cost.
It
seems ironic to me that, for a country that was forged out of
risk-taking, we have become so timid in our approach to life. You see
it in the way we seek to protect our children. Bringing up children
seems far more complex than it was even a generation ago.
Heaven forbid that they get dirty. Yet the latest
medical research indicates that with our obsession with cleanliness we
may be washing away some of our natural immunity to germs and bacteria.
But
as our world faces economic, ecological and health problems on a
massive scale, perhaps it is now timely to re-introduce risk-taking
into our living. It is quite obvious that our current cautious way of
living in the West is not serving ourselves or the world community
well. Our obsession with Risk Management, I believe, derives from our
need to maintain our comfortable lifestyle. It is becoming clear, as
the world shrinks and we become more aware of global problems that we
cannot afford our current lifestyle, a lifestyle that is made even more
expensive by the lengths we go to make sure it is safeguarded. So it is
that we need to be protected, against microbes, against accidents,
against being sued, against foreign migrating hordes, against
terrorists. So we live behind closed borders, in closed communities,
even as closed individuals, all worrying about ourselves.
<>As I See It,
this is not how God meant us to live. God would wish instead of living
timidly for ourselves, that we live in faith, adventuring into the
unknown, creating community where there is none and working together to
ensure the whole creation is safe not just those
of us lucky enough to born in the West. And this will always mean that
we take risks. God has taken a risk with God’s creation. It’s called
grace, something that is offered over and over again to each of us,
even when we mess up our own lives and the life of the planet.
Accepting that grace, and opening ourselves to a risky future rather
than fearfully clinging to a failing status quo is God’s future. And I hope it is ours…….
November 9 2008
Last night
our daughter texted us
from Istanbul with the question - “Is it weird that I started to cry
when I
watched the news coverage of Obama’s win?” I
quickly replied that that she was not alone and that I
had already
received a phone call from her grandmother saying the same thing.
And it seemed
that all over the
world there was a similar emotional reaction. The response that
particularly
made me smile was the news that Kenya had declared a national holiday
because
of Obama’s connection to that country. Indeed it was reported that the
village
in which Barak Obama’s paternal grandmother lives has recently been
given a
makeover in anticipation of his election. More telling are
the comments coming from Palestinian,
Iraqi and Afghani leaders, comments that speak more of hope, peace, and
a
brighter future.
So what’s
happening with our
world? Has an election in one country, albeit the most powerful in the
world,
has that event suddenly changed the world? Of course not but what it
has done
is provide a focus for hope that is much needed in a world wracked with
division and uncertainty. The fact that an African-American can become
the
leader of a country that a generation ago supported institutionalised
racism
offers hope for all those places where inequality and exploitation is
rife.
Just as important is the form of leadership displayed by Obama. He
refused to
engage in the standard political games of vilification and character
assassination. He came to the election with a programme of reform based
on
helping the most vulnerable in has society. Time will tell if he is
able to
provide the real social change that will revolutionise not only his
American
society but relationships between countries in the world community.
As
I See It, the need for principled leadership in all spheres of
our society’s life is badly needed. Obama’s programme and values are
but a
reflection of those values proclaimed by Jesus Christ. It would appear
that
Obama espouses the kind of servant leadership that Jesus preached and
lived.
However such a leadership path is a perilous one. Jesus realised that
as he
wakened the political and religious wrath of those who enjoyed the
privileges of
their society. The privileged of our world will not want their status
quo
changed. It’s my prayer that Christians in America and the world will
support
Obama, for his programme of reform is far more in line with the gospel
of Jesus
Christ than the moralistic crusade that was waged against him by
conservative
Christian forces in the U.S. during the election campaign. Pray for
Obama and
all our political leaders that they might learn the value of servant
leadership
and be willing to work for the poor and marginalised of our world.
November 2 2008
I’ve
just spent the last hour with a young woman who is organising an
inter-cultural
exchange visit for 14 Indonesian religious leaders -8 Muslims and 6
Christians.
They are part of an exchange programme initiated by the Uniting Church
Synod of
Victoria and Tasmania designed to bring a closer understanding of our
near neighbours
to the north, and to appreciate some of the issues involved in
inter-faith
dialogues.
The
prospect of this group visiting Launceston in March of next year
excites me,
because more than ever we live in a time when we all need to understand
and
live with differences. It’s paradoxical that in a time when our world
is
shrinking because of world-wide media reporting, there are so many who
are
fearful of the foreign. This is particularly sad when it comes to
differences
in religion.
Religion
claims to be about connecting human beings with God, with the
Spiritual, with
the Mysterious Other. It’s about building bridges – channels of peace
between
peoples. But often, rather than connections and bridges, religions of
all
shapes have concentrated on erecting barriers and using difference to
separate
rather than unite. So it is that Christians manage to find
hair-splitting
differences in a faith that claims oneness in Jesus the Christ. So it
is that
people of all religions practise a kind of religious apartheid where we
live
our lives in complete ignorance of the religious practises and beliefs
of the
other. I remember well the first time, as Catholic young person I dared
to
enter a Protestant church. So ignorant was I of Protestants and their
ways, it
was like travelling to a foreign country.
But
sadly many choose to live in ignorance, or worse still to live with
dividing
prejudices that paint the alien religion in the worst possible light.
So it is
that Christians paint Moslem as religious fanatics and Moslem paint
Christians
as decadent Westerners. So it is that some Christians claim that other
Christians are sub-Christian because they do not share some of the same
views
of God. So it is that Sunni Muslims attack Shia Muslims for something
that is
alleged to have happened nearly 1500 years before. Yet they all claim
to be on
about the same thing. They, we, forget that we are all made in the
image of
God.
As I See It, if we are to survive
the various
global crises that threaten to overwhelm the whole of humanity, we will
need to
recognise each other as brothers and sisters. Any effort to build
bridges to
break down barriers needs to be embraced. And surely inter-faith
dialogues are
one way to achieve this end. Each faith has a singular view of the
great
Mystery that we call God. As a Christian I have a particular view, but
surely I
am not arrogant enough to believe that it is the only view. Such a view
leads
to the divisions, suspicions and prejudices that make us less that the
Creator
intended for his creation. Embracing the “other” does not diminish me
or my
faith it can only enhance my humanity and my faith. So In March here at
Pilgrim, I hope you will embrace this attempt at inter-faith dialogue
and
understanding and become a channel of peace….
October
26 2008
When Margaret
Thatcher pontificated in the
eighties of last
century that there was no such thing as society, she was only
reflecting a
change in Western society that had started two hundred years before
with the
movement of people from the rural areas to cities in the wake of the
Industrial
Revolution. Almost overnight you had people removed from villages and
small
rural communities, where people were connected, connected with each
other and
connected with their environment. For many it was a movement that was
enforced.
The Highland Clearances in Scotland and the Potato Famine in Ireland
forced
millions to relocate worldwide. In England hundreds of thousands were
relocated
in the mill and coal towns that sprang up to feed the voracious
appetites of machines
that brought new economic opportunities to most and paved the way for
our
modern world.
But in
the move towards economic prosperity we lost something, - community and
connection. Instead of being supported by and caring for our neighbour,
increasingly we moved into the smallest of communities, the nuclear
family, an
invention that reached its peak in the twentieth century. Individualism
replaced community. And our estrangement from the land led us to a
place where
the environment was for exploiting. Our economy needed feeding and
community,
society was left to starve. So is it any wonder we face a global
warming
crisis. Is it any wonder that a third of the world community starves
whilst the
developed world worries about our share portfolios and our individual
tax
rates.
Yet God
made us for community. The Gospel of Christ is about relationships,
relationships that are life giving. Our relationship with God, our
relationship
with each other, our relationship with God’s creation, the environment,
all
need to be attended to lest they all go sour. When we think solely in
terms of
me and forget we, then we are all diminished.
The one
ray of hope in all the world’s gloom at the present time, is that there
is a
widespread move back to reconnection with God. Paradoxically it is not
happening solely in the institutional church. There seems to be a
search for
meaning, a reaching out to the spiritual, a desperate seeking of peace
in an
uneasy and chaotic world. Many are realising that economic security is
a
fleeting security.
As I See It, wholeness comes from
reconnecting with the mystery that is God. It is when I am willing to
stop my
frantic running around trying to achieve things, and allowing myself to attend to relationship, with God,
with my neighbour and with the environment that I am renewed in body,
mind and
soul.
It’s a
message we need to hear. Slow down, reconnect and most of all take time
simply
to be.
“God
is Being.”
October
19 2008
I
don’t know how
many of you have been able to see the documentary on SBS television
called “The
First Australians.” It’s an attempt to tell the story of Australia from the perspective of the
first
people of Australia.
No doubt the series of four episodes will evoke strong emotions from
those who
feel that a great wrong was, and continues to be, done to the
indigenous people
of this land. Equally there are many who feel we should all get on with
our
lives and claim there is nothing to be sorry for. Having worked with
aboriginal
people, I find myself in the first camp. My faith and my social work
background
both tell me that new life and forgiveness can only spring from genuine
repentance. Saying sorry is always a first step on the road to
wholeness when
someone has been wronged. So I give you this cry from the heart in
poetry by Deborah
Ruiz Wall is the author of Reconciliation,
Love and Other Poems.
Day
of Atonement
a
blip in empty space,
a wilderness that held us in awe,
a paradise to steal from the 'noble savage'
so we poisoned their waterholes, used their women,
took the 'half-caste' away, worked them for rations,
their outreached hand yearned for understanding
with their tales writ on the land, painted on canvas
with symbols alien to our eyes,
so we sent the anthropologists and musicologists
to the bush to find the translation,
then we harvested their art designs for a profit,
ignoring their meaning ... we gathered the smoke of the gum leaves
onto our faces, usurping their ritual blessing with hardened hearts,
and still we turned our heads away, biding our time,
their stories of pain falling on deaf ears,
but behind the façade was a cry
from the depths that rang in our ears,
disturbed our restful slumber,
left us no peace until we turned around,
and listened ...
some of us struggled to retrace our steps
and remember where we stumbled whilst in the throes
of founding a nation, where in the groove of history
we could pick ourselves up, and begin to set things right,
and so it was, in Canberra,
alongside screens from across the globe,
where many eyes focused on this fateful day to witness
a new national leader seize the first opportunity
to begin his regime with one word
offered to those who were hardly a blip in empty space,
and bound to be bred out and consigned to oblivion!
on this day, our peace offering began with one word
that reverberated from beyond the grave to the living.
what past, what present, what future
could be conceived
with a simple acknowledgement
that realises, that to trample on our first people's rights
would sow the seeds of our own destruction,
for they are at the core of our collective soul —
theirs was the gift of oneness with the land;
oneness with the Spirit.
with one word that creates a ray of hope,
that respects their sacred presence in our midst,
we say,
—'SORRY!'—
oh
what a mighty word this has become
to begin Australia's
healing;
their song lines now await
our spiritual re-birth.
Reverend
Tony Duncan
October
12
Last Saturday I presided over a
very special service that affected me greatly. It was a memorial
service for a woman who had taken her own life. This service, a full
month after the funeral service, allowed friends and relatives of the
deceased to continue their grieving and for some it was a way of moving
on. Single flowers were placed around her photo during the service and
at the conclusion of the service we all released balloons as we
symbolically freed her spirit.
Increasingly, it seems, suicide is
becoming something we are more willing to talk about. For years it has
been a taboo subject, seldom reported upon by the media and stigmatised
by the church, which in an extreme case of “blame the victim”,
categorised it as a sin. I wonder if some of our reluctance to talk
openly about suicide is in part due to the terrible feelings of guilt
that often arise after such a death, guilt which asks the question –
What more could I have done? In the main, it’s a guilt that is
misplaced, but none the less toxic in its effect on those who are left.
And sadly there are few people in
our society who do not know of a least one person who has suicided and
more and more of us are having to face our demons as we try to deal
with a friend or loved one who has taken their life.
So what has the Church to offer
in this regard? I’ve already confessed to the destructive stance the
Church has taken to suicide in years gone by. If the Church is to take
seriously its claim to bring light and life to the world it behoves the
church to discover something about the despair that leads someone to
take their own life.
As I See It, our society in the midst of silent
epidemic. Depression stalks our community and one of its harvests is
suicide. And depression is not just about feeling down once and a
while. We all experience that. No, it’s a mental illness that can be
treated, and perhaps that is the reason suicide numbers have been on
the decline during the past 10 years. Depression can be treated by
powerful drugs these days, but antidepressants need a human face,
individuals willing to listen and not judge, individuals willing to
remain with the pain of the other.
And when nothing works the
Christian Church needs to be present with those who remain, doing the
same thing, listening and not judging, allowing questions that often
have no answers to hang in the air, to allow healing to take place.
As Christians we believe that
death never has the last word, and believing that, we Christian are
well placed to speak into the darkness of suicide with a word of hope
for the future.
Rev. Tony
Duncan
5th
October, 2008
Last
night I watched a programme on the ABC television that talked about the
effect of a mother’s malnourishment during pregnancy upon her resulting
child. It was clear that one effect was that the child develops eating
habits that lead to obesity. The child having experienced scarcity of
food in the womb learns to eat when and where they can, for at some
deep level they need to ensure they will not starve. So they over-eat.
As a social worker I’ve noticed the same behaviour in children, who
have lived with chaotic abuse, you eat when you can and you squirrel
away food just in case.
And
as I thought about this phenomenon I wondered if the current economic
crisis has developed because of this behavioural trigger. Let me
explain what I mean.
I
wonder if humanity has been starved, not simply of food and
possessions, but of a far more important nutrient. In the developed
world, over the past 50 years or so, so much has gone into improving
our material wellbeing that we have neglected something that is crucial
to healthy living, a spiritual connection. It’s not that people have
turned their back on spirituality – it just that their energies and
time have been diverted into making more and more money and
accumulating more and more possessions. The decline in religious
observance, especially in wealthy developed nations, is clear evidence
of that. Who has time for God when there is a living or a killing to be
made? The more developed nations make and consume the more they
distance themselves from connections with things spiritual. They forget
Jesus’ wise words about people not living by bread alone, and so are
left with a hunger that seems insatiable. So we invest in projects that
are unsustainable. We try to conjure fortunes out of thin air. And most
destructive of all, some people can exist solely for themselves
oblivious of the effect of their actions on others. Development and
growth have become their false gods. Serving others seems a foreign
concept. They squirrel away possessions and stocks and shares because
they don’t know what it means to be satisfied. The more you get, the
more you want.
Truly
people do not live by bread alone.
As I See It, the current predicament that has
brought our financial world tumbling down around our ears has always
been predicable. The culture of individualism and greed, of caring
solely for ourselves never brings happiness. We were created to live in
community. Jesus’ message to the world was about living in community,
seeking wholeness for all especially the poor, the neglected and
disadvantaged. The world’s current financial system has been the
antithesis of Jesus’ way, based on the idea that the poor will get the
crumbs that fall from the master’s table. Until we change that view of
the world, we will continue to make the same mistakes, because our
stocks and shares, money and possessions can never fill us – we need
the nourishment that can only come from a God connection .
Tony Duncan
28th
September, 2008
This
past week I’ve been a member of the Synod of Victoria and Tasmania’s
annual meeting in Melbourne. Some substantial time was taken up
discussing the problem we have with property. A professional looking
document called “A Theology of Property for a Pilgrim People” was
distributed and discussed. Questions included “In what ways do you
consider our own church building ‘sacred’ and why?” and “In what
circumstances if any do think that we might choose to give up our
church buildings?”
One
of the reasons that such a document has been produced is that
increasingly the Uniting Church in Australia is becoming an asset rich
but people and cash poor body. Australia-wide the UCA has some $3
billion worth of buildings, yet our people numbers are ageing and
decreasing. In many places our buildings, constructed for a different
age, are falling into dangerous disrepair.
Now
this discussion could have been despairing in the extreme except for
some inspirational stories of church buildings being transformed into
serving their respective communities. I heard of a story of a church of
less than 8 attendees who chose to close. They moved aside to allow a
local doctor, who had connections with the church, to set up a surgery
in the church hall. The small community where the church was located
had no General Practitioner and the Commonwealth Government was willing
to subsidise the whole process. The faithful congregation members were
all the more willing to see their congregation close down because they
could see new life coming to the community through the opening of a
health centre.
So
you can imagine my delight when I arrived home late Wednesday night and
there was a message from Alison Andrews of the Examiner wanting to know
what Pilgrim’s involvement is with Youth on Paterson. Fresh from Synod,
I was able to tell her that this was the result of a Christian
community willing to share its property with the wider community. I
mentioned that this was indeed a demonstration of Christian
hospitality. Our property was there for the benefit of the whole
community and not closed off for sake of the members.
If we
do have to own property then let it be for the benefit of the many and
not just the holy few. Many of our buildings bear plaques that say “To
the glory of God.” If indeed they are to be to God’s glory then we need
to make them hospitable, safe and attractive places to come to. Practising hospitality to God’s glory means
that no longer can we regard these church buildings at Pilgrim as
solely ours. Church property is bound to the mission of the church. It
is a means to an end which is the mission of the church in witnessing
to God. When it ceases to be so, then truly we do need to close up shop
and move on as Pilgrim people.
Tony Duncan
21
September, 2008
You
would have to have been living in a cave this past week not to have
heard about the world’s latest crisis –the collapse of the world’s
financial markets. This week I have heard people talking about taking
their money out of banks and putting it under their mattresses. It’s
not a new call but those I have heard saying it, including people close
to me, have really meant it. Whilst I attribute some of the panic to
those merchants of doom and gloom commonly known as the mass media, the
world’s current financial crisis is none the less real. So where did it
all come from?
For
years financial gurus on Wall Street and their local equivalents have
been preaching a gospel of greed. Things can only grow and grow and
grow. Less than 12 months ago I had an interesting conversation with a
prominent economist who was adamant that the share market would
continue go through the roof. When I tried to tell him that the real
world has never worked like that, he dismissed my comments as being
uninformed. Sadly for him and all those merchant bankers, the real
world has asserted itself.
And
that’s been the problem. Those at the top of the financial money
pyramid who have been making money out of nothing and extracting
multi-million dollar salaries out of thin air, have been brought to
earth with a crunch. It’s what happens when your god is seen to have
feet of clay. The delusion that we can
live by bread alone has been a growing one, one that we have all been
caught up in. Superannuation reforms have meant that almost all of us
have been caught up in this current financial chaos.
But
it’s not the end of the world. Out of this crisis will arise
opportunities for new life. It’s something that we Christians major in.
As the financial world reconfigures itself hopefully it will result in
a fairer redistribution of wealth. As people’s financial futures become
less tied to huge anonymous and soulless multi-national funds,
hopefully there will be room for more community based organisation that
will reach out to neighbours in distress. At any rate there will arise
opportunities for Christians to trumpet as loudly as possible that we
do not live by bread alone, and that in the gospel of Jesus Christ we
have a way of life that will benefit all, not just the wealthy few.
So let the 17th Century mystic poet, Thomas Traherne
have the last word in the last three lines of his poem entitled,
“Poverty.” His words put our crisis in some perspective.
“For till his works
my wealth became,
No love or peace did
me inflame:
But now I have a deity.”
Tony Duncan
14
September, 2008
I
don’t know if you have been like me this past week, watching spellbound
as disabled athletes compete in the Paralympics. There’s
something quite humbling about watching a one-armed swimmer splashing
through the water to post a time that most able bodied people would not
be capable of. And then watching sprinters running on one leg or no
legs at all or seeing cyclists with cerebral palsy shakily race their
bikes, well it’s just awe-inspiring.
But I
have to say the thing that has moved me most is listening to the
stories of these young people, stories that all seem to begin with
tragedy, a birth defect, or a terrible accident. But none of their
stories end there. Tragedy does not have the last word. Their stories
are all about transforming tragedy into triumph. And interestingly
enough, nowhere did I see the hubris that was on display with some of
the able-bodied Olympians that we saw a few weeks ago. To a person,
each of these athletes was happy with a “PB” – a “personal best.” For
most, if not all of them, saw themselves as winners just getting to the
games. They didn’t seem to need a lump of gold to signify their winning
status. The glint of gold for them all is in their eyes not around
their chests.
So, As
I See It these are
resurrection stories, lives transformed by persistence, dedication and
self-belief. And these qualities were not produced out of thin air, and
were not solely the work of the Paralympian. As I listened to their
stories they were all stories of love and dedication. I heard stories
of parents, coaches, friends, who sacrificed time and energy for the
young person, who saw more than a “cripple”, or a “spastic” or a blind
person. They were people who saw the potential and were prepared to
love them back to wholeness despite their disability. That’s where the
self belief came from. Watching their feats on television is like
seeing miracles come to life.
And
in listening to them speak about their road to Beijing, I heard a
parable – a parable about God reaching out with love and compassion to
each of us. I believe God is like the parent or the coach, seeing in
each of us potential far beyond our dreams.
We
are not seen in terms of our tragedies, our failures, our shortcomings,
but God sees the potential in each of us and is there to encourage us
to greater feats. Our feats are not on the track or in the pool but in
our everyday interactions with those around us. And it is God-given
self-belief that enables each of us to achieve PBs.
Tony Duncan
7th September, 2008
Saturday of last week
Jenny and I exercised ourselves in a flurry of mud slinging. Literally!
We took up Doug and Lucy Forde’s invitation to help them clad their
straw-baled house with mud. And it was great fun! We both arrived home
Saturday afternoon, filthy and tired but with a sense of accomplishment.
But our little
adventure was a great deal more than an energetic romp in the mud. As
far as I was concerned it was an exercise in community building, - an
exercise in church. Most of the 20 adults there and 10 children had
some connection with a church. We were not all Pilgrim people. Indeed a
Churches of Christ pastor from Devonport was there with his family.
They were getting some valuable hands on experience as they prepare to
build there straw-baled house next year. But it was a great time of
getting to know each other as we engaged in a common task.
In years gone by
working together like this used to be a hallmark of church communities.
Church was more that just turning up on a Sunday. Members would meet
during the rest of the week to engage in tasks seemingly unrelated to
church, but whatever the activity, they contributed to the build of the
body of Christ because the activities helped bind the participants
together in love as they grew to know each other better.
As I
see it,
this is what is missing from many a 21st Century
church. And it is not just as I see it. The other week
Jenny led the young people of our congregation for a session during
church. She asked them what they would like in Pilgrim and they all
said that they missed those times when the whole congregation got
together at the picnics and combined lunches that we hold from time to
time. It was the times of celebration that they remember and yearn for.
In
the coming weeks we at Pilgrim will have a number of opportunities to
be church in this unique way. There is to be a working lunch to be held
on Sunday 21st September followed by
a working bee! We are all urged to come to
church – not in our Sunday best but our working clothes. It should be
fun! Then there is a concert on the 17th October where we
provide the entertainment. That should be fun.
Creating a church
community is all about developing a group of people bound by the love
of Christ who can work, play and pray together, and have some fun while
they are doing it. Finding opportunities like last’s Saturday’s
mud-flinging is just as important as meeting on a Sunday morning. How
else are we to extend the love of God in Christ beyond this place?
Tony Duncan
31st August, 2008
I can remember
clearly the first English essay I was asked to write at High School. “Create a pen
picture of who you are,” was
the topic to be answered in two pages. And I have a strong recollection
of struggling with it and being mortified when I only got 6 out of 10
for the piece. You see at the ripe old age of 12, I thought I knew who
I was.
Now I
realise, with the wisdom of age, that from the moment of our birth, we
are all on a voyage of self-discovery, seeking to work out who we
really are. Our voyage is often disrupted with other people’s
expectations. Parents, grandparents, teachers, even friends can all
seek to mould each of us into the person they think we should be. And
some of that moulding is necessary and indeed beneficial. But where it
comes unstuck is where others seek to live our lives for us.
This is especially so in adolescence, where the need to establish
ourselves as a viable autonomous adult begins in earnest. “Who am I?”
is a question that occupies a lot of our time at that age. But it
doesn’t stop at adolescence.
As
adults, if we are fortunate and really blessed, there is usually at
least one other person who knows who we are. Someone who sees beyond
the masks we wear in an effort to protect ourselves. And we truly need
external affirmation if we are to weather the storms of self doubt on
the way.
By
now you must be wondering where on earth I’m going with this “As I See It.” Well
in part it is motivated by Jesus’ question of Peter from last week’s
gospel. “Who do people say I am?” Now at this stage of Jesus’ ministry,
I don’t believe Jesus was seeking affirmation. His ministry indicates
clearly that he knew who he was, a child of God and that knowledge
provided him with the strength to face the Cross. Without it, he could
do nothing.
And
so it is with us. Knowledge of God’s love for us just as we are, is
what sustains us even in the darkest of times. So let me share with you
a poem, written by Dietrich Bonhoeffer from his prison cell penned just
before his execution by the Nazis in 1945 called Who am I?:
Who am I? They often
tell me
I would step from my
cell’s confinement
calmly, cheerfully,
firmly,
like as squire from
his country house.
Who am I? They often
tell me
I would talk to my
warders
freely, friendly and
clearly,
as though it were
mine to command.
Who am I? They often
tell me
I would bear the
days of misfortune
equably, smilingly,
proudly,
like one accustomed
to win.
Am I really all that
which other men tell of?
Or am I only what I
know of myself,
restless and longing
and sick, like a bird in a cage,
struggling for
breath, as though hands were compressing my throat,
thirsting
for words of kindness, for neighbourliness,
trembling
with anger at despotism and pettty humiliation,
tossing
in expectation of great events,
powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite
distance,
weary and empty at
praying, at thinking, at making, faint and ready to
say farewell to it all?
Who am I? This or
the other?
Am I one person
today, and tomorrow another?
Am I both at
once? A hypocrite before others
and before myself a
contemptibly woebegone weakling?
Or is someone within
me still like a beaten army,
fleeing in disorder
from victory already achieved?
Who am I? They mock
me these lonely questions of mine.
Whoever I am, thou
knowest, O God, I am thine.
Tony
Duncan
24th
August, 2008
On Thursday of last week at my “School
for
Seniors” class we talked of
demons. It’s not a topic for polite company but none the less we
persevered. We talked of one of the Desert Fathers, Antony, who went
into the desert to face his demons. Athanasius, the fourth century
theologian made Antony and his struggles famous by writing his Life of
St Antony and anyone interested in demonology should read it. Now on the face of it talking about demons is
not what the church in the 21st Century is on about. After all, the
name conjures up for us medieval visions of little black and red!)
creatures, prancing around with tail and pitchfork. (and no, I’m not
talking about football.
However,
talk of demons persists in our Post-Modern culture that remains
sceptical of anything that cannot be rationally explained. When I
“Googled” the topic –“Facing our Demons” I pulled up two and quarter
million references to it. Some of the references of course were about
the little mythical evil creatures, but most were about facing the kind
of demons that I believe Antony was struggling with in his desert
retreat, demons that are within each of us and not external. Google
reference was made of wayward politicians facing their demons, Olympic
athletes facing theirs. Bereaved families coming to terms with tragic,
violent death were said to be facing their demons, and of course we
talk of the demon drink in an attempt to place our demons outside
ourselves.
And
Antony knew his demons well, in the darkness of his monastic cell they
would visit him to torment. Voices of distain, critical voices that
were only too willing to tell him how hopeless he was, would visit him
and monumental struggles would ensue as Antony sought to come closer to
God, sought to be made whole.
As I See It, we all have our demons. Mystic’s call
our struggle with our demons “the dark night of the soul”.
Psychologists see it as unresolved psychological issues and they seek
to exorcise the demons with therapy. And minister’s like myself seek to
bring the healing love of God to bear when people “confess” their
demons. Oh yes, we all have our demons in
whatever guise they come. Every time we engage in a destructive
internal conversation about how hopeless and inadequate we are we come
face to face with our demons.
But
as Christians we believe that we need not face our demons alone.
Recently we read the story of Jacob wrestling with a man, and the
effect that the wrestle had on him. More than his name is changed as a
result of Jacob/Israel facing his demons. And we also read this year of
Jesus facing his demons in the Temptations Story from the gospels.
Christians follow Jesus a man who overcame his demons, who recognised
that God’s love will always win over our demons. The constant message
of that love and acceptance is what helps us drown out all demons that
clamour to be heard inside each of us. And thank God for that.
Tony Duncan
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
.
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Email: pilgrim@tassie.net.au
Phone:
(03) 6331 8757
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