What if God was one of us?

12 months ago on Friday, we flew from NZ to AU - tired after packing and traveling and not sleeping in our own beds, we arrived - not for a holiday, but to live.  This wasn't a case of finding a motel and heading for the nearest beach or theme-park. We needed to find out about housing, schools, healthcare.  We had no bank accounts, drivers licenses, car, mobile or home phones, or Medicare cards. It was a very different feeling, arriving to stay. 

We were very dependent on the few friends and family we had here. Foreign passports only count for so much.  An electricity account with our name and address often had more currency with government agencies than our own passports.  We had little in the way of status or identity.

We knew a few people, and only a little about the city. We didn't know exactly what work I would be coming to. We arrived with several suitcases, and our hopes and fears in our pockets.

It was certainly an adventure, but there was no plan b, and if it went badly we simply had to ride it out because we had come on one-way tickets.

All at the same time we were scared and excited, happy and fearful, hopeful and terrified.  Much seemed the same as it did back home, but much was (is) also different. The tools and tricks and ways of doing things we had used to survive in NZ didn't always work here. 

And so there were tears, uncertainty, anger, frustration, for days on end … all mixed in with a sense of the generosity of friends and family, the adventure of New Years eve at Yarra Park and the MCG, and a summer of 40 deg days.  At least we (mostly) spoke the same language.

An angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, "Get up, take the child and his mother and flee to Egypt and remain there until I tell you; For Herod is about to search for the Child, to destroy him." (Matthew 2.13 - The Bible)

I'm grateful that we weren't being chased by a tyrant, fearing for our lives;

That we had several months leisurely time to pack, and could take most of what we wanted.

That we could say goodbye properly to friends and family - and the rabbit. and that we came to a country where we spoke the same language.

After Christmas day, it would be nice if, after the wise men left, everything continued nice and cosy and comfortably.

But that would not be the world that this God came to save; That would not be the experience of humanity that God came to be part of, in Jesus; The whole reason for Christmas - and this birth - was exactly those broken, angry, and fear-driven ways of living. Whether those of the powerful or the powerless or those in between.  This saviour came for this sin and brokenness; to be with us the midst of it, and to save us for something much, much better.

In this story we are confronted with some stark realities:

·      That around our world today people still run from their governments and leaders in fear.

·      That when God comes to deal with sin and brokenness, we can discover that we prefer our messy and busted lives to handing it over to God.

·      That God's authority and power can be met by the response of the Wise Men - in worship and gift and gentleness and acceptance; or by the reaction of Herod in fear and violence.

The UNHCR mid-year report says that in July this year, there were 11 million refugees around the world, just under a million applying for asylum, of which Australia has just under 2%.

That's 11 million people running for their lives (literally) from oppressive governments or war or famine or natural disasters.

Let's just pause and consider what that means 

·      People continue to behave disgustingly and abusively towards each other; 

·      People continue to be exceedingly generous in welcoming those who flee for their lives; 

·      We in Australia know only a trickle of this river of human suffering.  

This part of the christmas story pokes us with this reminder; Sin and selfishness and human violence are not far from our human experience. I understand that we like to think of ourselves as nice - and basically good. With road-rage and Australians threatening others with knives on public transport, this reality comes as close to us as walking out of our homes.  And if I were really honest, its not all that far from my own heart.  No, I'm not saying we should be scared of each other. Grace and hope are a generous part of every human being.  Palestinian Parents love their children as much as Syrian or Indonesian or Australian. 

But for us in Australia, we struggle to understand what it is that drives families to grab a few valued possessions and leave our homes and run, never knowing if we might ever return; but knowing that if we don't run, we will be killed, our daughters will be raped and we will watch our family home burn to the ground.

The heart of the Christmas story is not for children to dress up in tea-towels and sheets.  It is about God's salvation for this broken world - a world where Jesus himself, with his family, experienced the impact of violence and fear.

This is truly "God with us" - and God is prepared to talk about sin, and salvation … so that God can talk about hope and peace.

We need to hear this part of the Christmas story to remind us that, beyond the Awe and Worship … and the sentimentality … This Child came to a broken world – in which we are part of this brokenness.

We need to hear about Herod in this story, as much as we need the WiseMen.

The WiseMen were open to what this baby might teach them; Herod was fearful of this 'king'.  This baby was a threat to Herod; He was an object of worship and awe for the WiseMen.  

With the WiseMen there is a sense of patience and calm and taking time to wonder and listen and ponder.

With Herod there is impatience, anger and sudden rage.

When God is born among us, some with power will be open to him, and some will be threatened.

When Men (and Women) go to war because they are threatened by others, or withhold food from their enemies, or selfishly store up for themselves instead of sharing generously, innocent people suffer. And it is normally the children that suffer first when adults fight over things.

And every time it happens, Mothers are left weeping inconsolably for their children.

To accept this One Child (GodWithUs) invites us to participate in a different story for this world …Whether it is a call to welcome the stranger in our midst, or to care for the poor, or to love an unloveable or loveless someone who is close to us, or to recognise the violence done to indigenous Australian children in our own history and lifetimes, or even move countries. 

And when God comes among us, we each have comfort or power or concepts that are threatened or challenged. We can follow the example of the wise men and pause and listen to something that is completely different to what we expect - or we can push back like Herod, threatened and angry.

God. With us. One of us. Acting intentionally and decisively … and in the cry of a baby, who has faced some of the worst that broken and angry humans can do to others.

God. With us. One of us. Loved by a mother and father, adored by searching wise men, worshipped by common folk.

If God were one of us, these might be our responses too.

And then she sang Amazing Grace

... and then she sang - Amazing Grace.

Compelled I drove to St Kilda at invitation
to witness and take part in a candlelight vigil
for a prostitute.

So why are you going?
the wise question of 15 years - my daughter.

Something about what they were doing called to me.  Something about a life ended too soon that called me to join and pray and weep and wonder.

At first I met candles in milk bottles, and chalk on an asphalt corner "Tracy's Corner".

No one was there.

Greeves street - at night a place of sex workers and drugs.
Tonight - a gathering of people to say that even these people matter.

A still, quiet, cool night where people mingled - mums and dads with little children, lovers hand in hand, friends meeting after work, Suits, miniskirts, scarves, umbrellas and dogs. Low voices chatting and laughing - and crying. Each one holding a candle.

The sum of 500 single candles causing a warm, gentle glow. In a place of death and a daily struggle for life, this glow protested against the cold and dark - we will not let this person, this human life, end without hope and recognition.

Sally (Tonkin), the ceo of St Kilda Gatehouse, said, "tonight we see the worst of humanity and the best of humanity.”

The Gatehouse - a sanctuary for those who live a life that I could never imagine.  Providing unconditional love and hope to those who sell their hearts to addictions, and their bodies to men night after night - to pay for those addictions.  

Sally spoke of them with highest praise, "These are kind, beautiful, amazing, creative women - valued members of this community."  The compassion, love and creativity of this Gatehouse is outstanding. 

Others spoke;

a friend of Tracy, and Tracy's brother, female politicians, a mayor, and an angry man who is sick of male violence against women.

We...

listened, strangers in the glow of candlelight, joined with each other by this compelling call to value the life of a stranger who lived a strange life. Even in the glow of candles, we could still see compassion in each others faces, soft, warm and determined. 

We were not there to support prostitution, but to honour a woman - a human being, unique and loved by God and friends.  

We all knew...

that Greeves street wasn't like this on every other night.  Normally it was a place of risk and utter brokenness.  But we had a sense that we changed it - even for one night.

Tracy was murdered 10 days ago.

Sure, she was a prostitute and struggled with addictions - but that was not her dream, and it certainly wasn't her personality. Sure, she lived homeless in a van with her partner of 11 years, but that was not the future they wanted, together.  Sure, she had given up her two children for adoption when she found herself unable to care for them. But she cared for others in the street - others like herself.

We listened...

… and then a lone voice sang Amazing Grace.
 

"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound 
that saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now I'm found
Was blind but now I see.

"Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
'Tis grace has brought me safe thus far
And grace will lead me home."

I was not the only one in tears.

Hearing that beautiful solo voice sing Amazing Grace in the clear night air - Grace had so much meaning in the context of Tracy's life,
in that moment,
on that street,
in the stillness of the night,
among candles and compassionate people. 

Grace. Amazing.

did you enjoy Synod?

asked if i enjoyed Synod
i reply
i'm not sure that the purpose of synod was my enjoyment.

for a (pleasant) change i sat.watched.listened.prayed.laughed.fidgetted.waited
(not my reports so I don't have a date with a microphone)
and wondered
could my future be here in this place.church.country?

maybe
but for now, this week i
.met new people, and started to form friendships, collegial relationships … and opinions.
.learned about how this church makes decisions, and what it is that these people consider important
.changed my mind, made up my mind, and was convinced to unmake it again
.heard trust&distrust&mistrust
.saw gaps, traces and cracks (where light might still get in)
.saw lots of resources - and a confusing array of doing and undoing and redoing
.started to grapple again with Strategy and Discernment; Strategy vs Discernment; (DisStrategment?)
… and wondered about using the right toolboxes for each - at the right times.
.learned a lot about consensus decision making and a very different process
.talked, listened, prayed, sang, hoped, watched, grappled and trusted with others.

i "guested". listening, learning, soaking it all in as the words, prayers, fears and hopes washed over and around and through me
You gave me a great gift, and i wondered
what might it take to give myself completely to become 'us' rather than 'you'
(to throw my hat over the wall)

i will remember
.a table where we talked, laughed, face-booked, changed our minds, waited in silence, prayed, changed our minds again and broke bread
.another table where we ate together, sharing stories and hopes
.silence, waiting, praying and trusting
.new learnings
.new friends

and leaving tired, changed, renewed


asked if i enjoyed synod
i might just smile
sure that the purpose of synod was not my enjoyment

Finding Grace in Rain

It rained last night – the first (real) rain I have experienced in Victoria since we arrived shortly after Christmas last year.  One could almost hear the earth sigh and the trees draw a breath of relief.  The soil in the garden had become parched and dry, the grass was almost dead and the trees had become stressed.  The first rush of rain washed leaves and dust away pretty quickly, but it was the steady watering overnight the made a difference. I sat in my study early the next morning and listened to the gentle rain softening up the soil and watering the thirsty plants.

Photo: http://www.mymodernmet.com

What changed even more immediately was the faces and body language of people that evening and the next day – there was a palpable sense of relief, with relaxed shoulders and faces.  It was like a burden had suddenly been lifted.  Just as the dryness of the earth had been reflected in the tired hearts of the people, so the rain had ‘watered and washed’ our souls.

The most unlikely things affect our hearts – weather, news reports, the smile of a child, the greeting of an old friend.

I enjoy the ‘soul cleansing’ of Lent.  Every Lenten season is different for me – depending on what is going on around me.  This year I am learning again about Sabbath, rest and grace through the book Sabbath Keeping written by my friend and colleague Lynne Baab.  The book takes the reader on a journey through stories of people who have chosen to experience God’s grace through observing the Sabbath – a day of rest each week. 

“When I take a break once a week, I remember that God is the one in charge of keeping the world turning and not me.  Taking a day off each week also encourages me to be responsible with how I spend my time on the other six days.” (p19) 

Baab encourages her readers to stop some things on their Sabbath (e.g. give up technology for the day) and to start some ‘Sabbath habits or rhythms’ (e.g. intentionally finding beautiful things to appreciate – art, flowers, etc).  Through Lent we have talked about a similar idea – giving up something and taking up something else.  The invitation this Lent has been to listen to the voice of the Spirit speaking to our hearts.

As we reach the Easter services, we grab hold of Grace in new and deep ways, but we also sit quietly and allow the soaking of the Spirit;
“You may come to me in happiness

Or you may come to me in grief

You may come to me in your deepest faith

Or you may come in disbelief” 

Leonard Cohen; Lover, Lover, Lover 

Like the soil receiving the rain, we don’t have to be ‘right’ or ‘ready’, just open to allowing the Spirit to soak into our souls.