Emmaus Road

Thoughts on community by M Scott Peck

2011-05-11T19:25:00.000-07:00

I have recently been reading 'The Different Drum' by psychologist, counselor, theologian and author M Scott Peck. Peck also wrote 'The road less travelled.' He has done much work in community-building (both in short-term retreat type settings and in broader life settings).

There are some profound insights into the character of true community. I thought I would share some via this blog.

“...like lesser kinds of happiness, the joy of community is a by-product. Simply seek happiness, and you are not likely to find it. Seek to crate and love without regard to your happiness, and you will likely be happy much of the time. Seeking joy in and of itself will not bring it to you. Do the work of creating community, and you will obtain it – although never exactly according to you schedule. Joy is an uncapturable yet utterly predictable side effect of genuine community.” The Different Drum, p 40

M Scott Peck talks of different stages which groups of people go through as they move towards true community: 1. Pseudocommunity (everyone is nice to each other; no problems or conflicts are allowed to surface) 2. Chaos (the group looks like it is in constant conflict and community seems a long way away) 3. Emptiness (the group begins to let go of, and lose, its ideals, hopes and dreams and cannot see what might come out of the process) and 4. True community.

Groups can transition between these stages in either direction, and even apparently skip stages (there are no formulas, only patterns).

Of the chaos part of the process Scott Peck says:

“ ‘There are only two ways out of chaos,’ I will explain to a group after it has spent a sufficient period of time squabbling and getting nowhere. ‘One is into organization – but organization is never community. The only other way is into and through emptiness.’ ” The Different Drum, p94.

“Groups assembled deliberately to form themselves into community routinely go through certain stages in the process. These stages, in order, are:

Pseudocommunity

Chaos

Emptiness

Community

Not every group that becomes a community follows this paradigm exactly…But in the process of community-making by design, this is the natural, usual order of things.” The Different Drum, p86.

'Life is not a problem to be solved but a mystery to be lived.' The Different Drum, p98

Of the stage of emptiness, Scott Peck says:

'The transformation of a group from a collection of individuals into genuine community requires little deaths in many of those individuals. But it is also a process of group death, group dying. During the stage of emptiness my own gut feeling is often not so much the pain of watching individuals here and there undergoing little deaths and rebirths as it is the pain of witnessing a group in its death throes. The whole group seems to writhe and moan in its travail. Individuals will sometimes speak for the group. “It’s like we’re dying. The group is in agony. Can’t you help us? I didn’t know we’d have to die to become a community.”…

'When its death has been completed, open and empty, the group enters community. In this final stage a soft quietness descends. It is a kind of peace.' The Different Drum, p103.

I hope these thoughts challenge, inspire, and help you to learn.

The Hunger Games

2011-03-08T18:13:00.000-08:00

'The Hunger Games' series of novels is one of the 'latest big things' in teenage fiction, the 'new Twilight.'
I just finished reading the first two novels in the trilogy. Yes, I am reading teenage fiction (could I give as my excuse that I need to know what my teenage daughter is reading? Or should I just acknowledge that I enjoyed the books for the good writing they are?).
It was compelling, even compulsive reading. I couldn't put the books down until I had finished them. Was barely able to stop for lunch. The Hunger Games tells of a post-apocalyptic future in North America, where 'The Capitol' rules all and imposes severe penalties on the 'Twelve Districts' for their rebellion 74 years before. Life is harsh for the heroine, Katniss Everdeen. It is a struggle to eat; a struggle to survive; a struggle to provide food for her family, her mother and young sister. Katniss often goes illegally hunting in the woods, but she still knows the gnawing pangs of hunger and the fear that she will not find enough.
When Katniss is sent as a 'tribute' to the Capitol for the annual 'Hunger Games', life becomes even harsher. Each District provides 2 tributes, a boy and a girl, each year. The Hunger Games are a little like the Colosseum of old: the tributes are sent into the Games Arena with a variety of weapons, and there they proceed to kill each other for the sport and entertainment of the citizens of the Capitol. There can only be one survivor of the Hunger Games each year. It's a brutal story and a brutal setting. As I finished the first book, I couldn't help thinking 'The saddest part of this is that for many people in our world this is not just a story but the harsh reality.'
The next day, I opened my mail, including an update from Medicins Sans Frontieres (Doctors without Borders) of their work around the world. It was a profound juxtaposition of reading material. It's perhaps easy to forget in our land of plenty that around a third of the world's population live in absolute poverty, without food security or access to medicine or such basic human needs as fresh water. And another third live in relative poverty - always wondering whether they will survive to the next harvest. Even today, there are more human slaves than at any time in history. In some places, children are literally forced to become soldiers, forced to kill and brutalise others or be killed themselves.
I'm not saying that we are as culpable as the citizens of the Capitol in The Hunger Games. But too often we do not think of how our actions, and our consumption, and our excesses, impact on others in the world. Even our language betrays us: for a long time, we have referred to poor countries as 'the third world' - as if they are somehow two worlds removed from our luxurious lives in 'the first world.' I now prefer to talk about 'the two thirds world' - reminding me that actually more people live in these conditions than in what I consider normality - or about 'the majority world.'
'Break the arm of the wicked and violent man,' prays the Psalmist, a prayer that makes no sense until encountering the brutality and oppression of the truly wicked and violent ones who indulge themselves in power games at the expense of the helpless victims. It means 'break the power of those who oppress. Break their ability to wreak their havoc on the innocent. Do not let them continue in their violence.'
In the Lord's prayer, we pray 'Give us today our daily bread.' This is a corporate prayer, a prayer for all of the world, not just for me. How does God want us to become part of God's answer to that prayer? How does praying this prayer on a daily basis lead us towards a life of greater simplicity and greater generosity? How can we stand against a culture of hyper-consumerism, recognising and living out the truth that my actions affect others? I do not know the answers to all these questions, and there are no glib solutions. But perhaps the asking of these questions, and the living of my life with intentionality in responding to them, will go part of the way to answering my own prayer.
Give us today our daily bread, Heavenly Father. May I be part of that.

A couple of great websites

2010-07-21T21:25:00.000-07:00

I've just discovered a couple of thoughtful, insightful, and helpful websites on discipleship and the church. I commend them to you:

The Ekklesia Project (www.ekklesiaproject.org)
Nine Marks (www.9marks.org)

Great for thinking and challenge, encouragement and equipping!

Here I BE: a declaration of war on busyness

2010-06-06T19:53:00.000-07:00

I hereby declare war on busy-ness.
I declare that I will say 'no' even to some of the 'good' things in life and ministry, so that I can give time and priority to what is best. The art of 'being,' the relationships and life which God has given me, that are not defined by what I 'do.'

Eugene Peterson writes: "Busyness is an illness of the spirit, a rush from one thing to another because there is no ballast of vocational integrity and no confidence in the primacy of grace. In order for there to be conversation and prayer that do the pastoral work of meeting the intimacy needs among people, there must be a wide margin of quiet leisure that defies the functional, technological, dehumanizing definitions that are imposed upon people by others in the community." (Five Smooth Stones for Pastoral Work, Eerdmans, 1980, p61-62, my emphasis).

Busyness is not just an illness of the spirit, but also a way that the enemy of our souls attacks us. It dehumanises us to the level of 'producers' and 'consumers' and makes us see other people as simply 'things' to be used for the fulfillment of our own needs.

So, again, I declare war on busyness, and invite you to join me in this battle.

The most powerful weapon we have in this battle is one of the smallest words in the English language: the word 'no.'

Behind the weapon of 'no' lies the bigger 'yes.' By saying 'no' to the possibly very good things which make us busy, we are saying yes to the more important things which make us human. For pastoral people, that means constantly evaluating the requests and needs (both implicit expectations and explicit requests) of people and instutions against the call of God, and asking the question, 'Is what I am being asked to do in line with what God has called me to do?' If the answer to that question is 'no,' then my answer to the request (implicit or explicit) must also be 'no.'
For everyone, this means evaluating our 'activity' against our 'identity.' Does getting a higher paid job mean less time with family? Is the trade-off one that humanises or dehumanises you? Does your job ask you to do something unethical, which is troubling your conscience? Can you say 'no' graciously to what is dehumanising? Or do you need to seek other alternatives?

What else does this war on busyness look like, I wonder?

Here I BE. Sometimes, I can DO no more.

The path to celery

2010-05-02T18:07:00.001-07:00

Iain Paech was in my car on Easter Sunday. It's not a bad car. He said something about it being surprising that I had such a good car, and what I heard him say was something like this:
"Still, you are on a path to celery..."
To which my reply was "what are you talking about?" - I couldn't conceive at all what it might mean to be "on a path to celery..." I thought I was on a path to salvation!
Turns out what he actually said was, "Well, you are on a pastor's salary..."!!!

Podcasting!

2010-04-12T18:59:00.000-07:00

Excuse my excitement! I've finally worked out how to podcast. So for anyone who's interested (probably 1.73 people out of six billion) you can now follow or listen to my sermons by clicking the link. Scary and exciting.
Hopefully it's worth it.

Simplicity

2010-03-10T00:40:00.000-08:00

I have enjoyed reading emails from Rob Thomas, who styles himself part of 'The Life Poets' Simplicity Collective.' I think that the choice of simplicity is one of the ways we can fight against the 'tendrils of stuff' that so entwine and impoverish our lives in this consumerist culture. I think that the practice of Sabbath is another way to do this.
I heartily recommend The Simplicity Collective to you and hope you will join me in seeking to live more simply.
www.simplicitycollective.com

Unless you change and become like little children...

2010-03-01T17:08:00.000-08:00

One of those profound, defining moments of life happened yesterday.

One of our daughters had done 'something wrong.' She took a chocolate bar from the fundraising box - without paying for it, and despite us saying that each child could only buy one bar from the box (which she already had). When she had eaten it, she was devastated - totally stricken in her conscience. She was feeling so guilty that she actually hid from us (her parents). When we had searched the whole house and still couldn't find her, we were really beginning to be worried (echoes of Adam and Eve in the garden - 'I was afraid and I hid from you'!).
Finally, she surfaced. She was sobbing and shaking with repentance and contrition and fear. We sat with her for a long time, cuddling her, reassuring her, asking her to tell us what she'd done wrong because we wanted to be gracious with her and forgive her. It took her a long time before she could bring herself to confess, to actually say in words what she had done.
The Holy Spirit at work in her brought about such genuine repentance! When she'd finally told me, 'I took a chocolate bar,' and I said ' I forgive you,' and assured her of God's forgiveness, she almost immediately said, 'I'm willing to pay for it out of my pocket money.' She wanted to make restitution.
Later that night, when she was in bed just about to go to sleep, she said that when she finally confessed to us and heard our forgiveness, 'It was like a big load of bricks was lifted off my shoulders.'

Wow. I pray that I may have such a tender, contrite heart, such a broken spirit, such a tender conscience.

'You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it; you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.' (Psalm 51:16-17)

'At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, 'Who is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven?' Jesus called a little child and had him stand among them. He said, 'I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven.' (Matthew 18:1-4)

Kaway's brother and the Holy Spirit at work

2010-02-07T18:39:00.000-08:00

I received an email updating me on Kaway and his brother.
It went like this.

Hi Nathan,

I thought I would let you know what has happened today.

I read your (anon.) email to our congregation after the finish of our service today. I also related to them the more detailed circumstances of Kaways brother, as I had a talk with Kaway and now have become much more acquainted with the profound difficulties surrounding this situation, so I was able to pass on these details from a more knowledgeable perspective.
Your email had a profound effect, immediately after I had finished reading it we had a retiring offering, there was just on $1300 given, with more to come later no doubt.
Kaway had said he needed $1200, immediately, to pay for his brother and carers to travel (1,000k's to the nearest decent hospital) and get some immediate medical care organised, with futher needed later.

Thank you for helping to motivate our congregation so strongly to help our brother in need, surely God placed you at our congregation last Sunday, not just to lead our service.

I am humbled by the generous response of God’s people. There is never a money problem in the church – the only problem is a generosity problem! But when God’s Holy Spirit moves God’s people to joyful generosity, the results are nothing short of miraculous.

SDG

Kaway and Kierkegaard

2010-02-01T16:29:00.001-08:00

In the first recorded address of his public ministry, Jesus read from the book of the Prophet Isaiah, chapter 61. By doing this, Jesus was proclaiming 'The Year of Jubilee' - the year when slaves were to be freed and sent home, when debts were to be cancelled, when the oppressed were to be set free, when those who had sold family lands because of dire economic circumstances were to have their ancestral properties returned. Although the Year of Jubilee was proclaimed as part of God's covenant with the people of Israel when they entered the land, there is no historical evidence that it was ever practiced!
On Sunday I preached a sermon based on Jesus' rejection in Nazareth, Luke 4:14-30. The people of his hometown are most happy to have Jesus proclaim Jubilee. It sounds like good news for them - and it is! But when Jesus dares to suggest that God's blessings, and the year of his favour, will also come to those 'outside' the chosen people, his hearers reject him and his message.
In my sermon, I said that Jesus' message is good news for us - and he calls for it to be good news for others, too. I quoted Ash Barker: 'If we are to hear Jesus’ call to discipleship, every Christian must make poverty personal. This includes poverty in the West, and not just in the most extreme situations.' (Make Poverty Personal by Ash Barker, p125)
Then I quoted the following devastating passage from the Danish Lutheran philosopher Soren Kierkegaard. He writes:
“The matter is quite simple. The Bible is very easy to understand. But we Christians are a bunch of scheming swindlers. We pretend to be unable to understand it because we know very well that the minute we understand we are obliged to act accordingly. Take any words in the New Testament and forget everything except pledging yourself to act accordingly. My God, you will say, if I do that my whole life will be ruined. Herein lies the real place of Christian scholarship. Christian scholarship is the Church’s prodigious invention to defend itself against the Bible, to ensure that we can continue to be good Christians without the Bible coming too close. Dreadful it is to fall into the hands of the living God. Yes, it is even dreadful to be alone with the New Testament.”

Of course, God could not let me get away with just preaching it. I was handed a note at the beginning of the service, which asked me to pray for a Sudanese man named Kaway, a member of the congregation where I was preaching. Kaway had just received news that his brother, who still lives in Sudan, had been struck on the head and severely injured - paralysed from the neck down - as he tried to break up a fight between two other men in his village. As I spoke with Kaway afterwards he said he was going to send some of his own money to his brother, in order to facilitate the many hours of travel he needed to get to a medical clinic, and hopefully to pay for some of his medical costs.

I was struck by my own sermon. And compelled by the writers I had quoted. I knew God was calling me, through my own words, to share good news - physical good news - with Kaway's brother. The next day, as I went to my bank account to make a transfer of money for Kaway's brother, I noticed something remarkable. Lately when I've logged into my bank account online, it's been to check the balance. It's been about me, and my mind has been filled with anxiety: Look how little I have saved. But this time, with exactly the same account balance, I was thinking of someone else. There was no anxiety but rather joy: Look how much I have! God has been so generous! How can I afford not to share some - to bring physical good news to the poor?

I'm not trying to make myself look good here. This change is completely, utterly, God at work. There is no glory for Nathan - only shame at my selfish anxiety before.
But what I do want to say is the the Kierkegaard quote is only half the story. 'My God, you will say, if I do that my whole life will be ruined.' Yes, your sinful self will say that. But hear and follow the call of Jesus, and you will find that your life is not ruined - it is found. Following the call of Jesus is following him from the saving of a life that is ultimately worthless, into the giving of a life and the living of a life that is ultimately worthwhile. Not for nothing does Jesus say, 'Whoever seeks to save his life will lose it, and whoever loses it for me and the gospel will save it.' Not for nothing does Jesus say 'It is more blessed to give than receive.' Not for nothing does Jesus say that our own freedom is intimately tied up with seeking freedom for others, the outsiders and those who are oppressed. Not for nothing does Jesus say we will meet him in the simplest acts of kindness and mercy to those the world considers the least of people. Good news for me doesn't stop being good news just because it is good news for others too.

Thank you, Kierkegaard, for challenging me.
Thank you, Kaway, for blessing me.

Jesus, bring your good news and healing to Kaway's brother.

Towards Community

2009-08-31T21:41:00.001-07:00

Our Emmaus Road community gathered last night around the Meal and the Scripture, to share our Journey and be called deeper into God's Mission.
It is a nascent community, but already we are beginning to experience some life-giving aspects of Christian community. Fun and laughter. Hospitality. Awe at the presence and work of God. Vulnerability - to the point of beginning to speak of real needs, and possible ways the community can help to meet those needs. Intimacy only develops out of vulnerability, and shared time, and shared experience. One person's gift is an answer to another's prayer. One person's prayer request is now lifted up by all. God answers prayer and calls us to full life, full humanity, which can only truly be found in community, because we are created in the image of the God who lives in community as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Thank you, Lord God, for Emmaus Road.
Thank you, Emmaus Road, for showing us God more deeply.

On Being Fully Alive

2009-08-31T21:23:00.000-07:00

Irenaeus, one of the early church fathers, said
"The Glory of God is a human being fully alive."

It's a saying that bears deep thought - it's a mystery, really, in the sense that a mystery is not unknowable but infinitely knowable - there is always more depth to discover in a mystery.

As I have prepared lately for a topic called 'God vs Stuff - Consumerism and the Call to Follow Christ' I have had cause to think about this quote. I think consumerism is a religion, and a threat to Christian faith.
Jesus apparently thought so too - read Matthew 6:24, 32, and Matthew 13:22.

I've come to the deep conviction that all false gods, all idols (which seek to take us away from placing our fear, love and trust only in the One True God) seek to enslave us and dehumanise us. All idols make us less than fully human, less than fully alive. Psalm 135:15-18 says 'The idols of the nations are silver and gold, made by the hands of men. They have mouths, but cannot speak, eyes, but they cannot see; they have ears, but cannot hear, nor is there breath in their mouths . Those who make them will be like them, and so will all who trust in them.'
Like all false gods, consumerism enslaves us. Idols demand sacrifice. Anxiety and loss of identity are just two of the sacrifices we pay on the altar of consumerism, for it holds out promises of happiness it cannot fulfill.

Then if idols dehumanise us, allegiance to the One True God makes us more fully human, for we find ourselves living lives which more fully bear the image of God.
There are then some Christian practices which help to liberate us from the grip of the idols.
I'm thinking of but four at the moment.
The keeping of a Sabbath - a day of rest, in order to do no work - makes us more fully human because God himself rested. He took a whole day off from the creation and running of the Universe - and the world did not come to an end. We too can take a whole day off from doing nothing productive - and the world will not end. We can be set free from the shackles of having our identity defined by what we produce or consume. We can be set free from the shackles of technology (just turn everything off for a whole day each week!).
Generosity (giving freely of what we have been given) - makes us more fully human because we discover ourselves in the image of the Gracious and Generous God. Life is designed for free giving.
Service (discovering that people are more important than things) - makes us more fully human because we discover ourselves in the image of the Servant God. Jesus himself said 'I have not come to be served but to serve and give my life as a ransom for many.' Jesus also said 'Whoever loses his life will find it.'
Justice (seeking freedom for others) - makes us more fully human because we discover ourselves in the image of the God of Justice, the One who has a preferential option for the poor, the one who came to make things right.

All of these things lead us deeper into the image of God, deeper into full and true humanity, and thus deeper into being the people we were created and designed and called and redeemed to be.

A Parable of Community - inspiration from Taize

2009-07-19T20:42:00.000-07:00

I recently picked up the beautiful little book called The Taize Experience by Brother Roger, who began the Taize community and movement. As I was reading it, I came across this page, which captivated my attention and gave some more shape to my thinking about Emmaus Road.

"Faced with the urgent need to make the Gospel present at the heart of the human family, we are aware how limited the resources of our community are when compared with the vast horizons opening out in this eve of a new millennium.

What are you, little community? An efficient instrument? No. Never. Fine as that may be.

Perhaps a group of men united to be stronger, humanly speaking, in order to realise their own aims? Not that either.

So could we be living a common life in order to be comfortable together? No. The community would then become an end in itself, and that would allow us to settle down in cosy little nests. Being happy together? Certainly, but in the context of the offering of our lives.

What are you, little community, spread out in different parts of the world? A parable of communion, a simple reflection of that unique communion which is the Body of Christ, his Church, and therefore a leaven in the human family.

What is your calling? In our common life, we can only move forward by discovering ever anew the miracle of love, in daily forgiveness, heartfelt trust, and peace-filled contemplation of those entrusted to us. When we move away from the miracle of love, all is lost, everything comes apart.

Little community, what might be God’s desire for you? To be made alive by drawing nearer to the holiness of Christ."

(The Taize Experience, by Brother Roger – The Liturgical Press, St John’s Abbey, Collegeville, Minnesota. English language edition © 1990)

More on DNA

2009-07-14T21:54:00.000-07:00

I was reading Neil Cole's book Organic Church recently and was struck by something he says about DNA. Cole describes the DNA of any multiplying Christian community as a combination of three factors:
D - Divine Truth - letting God's word be at work in the life of the disciple
N - Nurturing Relationships - helping one another to grow in community, not alone
A - Apostolic Mission - reaching out with God's love to the world.

I was struck by the similarity between what Cole writes about DNA, and my own thoughts on 'what is essential' for a healthy church. In my own thinking, the important dimensions have been characterised as 'Discipleship, Community, Mission.' These exactly parallel Cole's 'Divine Truth, Nurturing Relationships, Apostolic Mission.' Very interesting! I had characterised one more element as 'Transformation.' I think the Transformation, though, is something we can't really plan for, because it's the mysterious work of the Holy Spirit in the life of the disciple of Christ, and through the Body of Christ, the transformation of the world. In other words, when the DNA is in place, the transformation happens!

DNA

2009-07-12T00:20:00.000-07:00

Emmaus Road DNA:

The DNA of Emmaus Road is found in basic form in the story of the two disciples on the road to Emmaus in Luke 24:13-35. It consists of commitment to four basic community practices and one basic individual practice.

Basic Practices:

Emmaus Road is a missional community. Each community is committed to four basic practices: The Meal, The Scripture, the Journey, the Mission.

· The Meal: just like the two disciples, we gather around shared food, shared time, shared life, recognising that Jesus meets us in this kind of community.

· The Scripture: The two disciples said to one another, ‘Weren’t our hearts burning within us as he talked with us and opened the Scriptures to us?’ People on the Emmaus Road commit themselves to engaging with Scripture as God’s word and the means through which we meet Jesus.

· The Journey: We recognise that we are on a journey, not arrived at our destination. This means no one is perfect; everyone is welcome; the journey is as important as the destination; there will always be surprises; and Jesus joins us where we are on the road. We invite others to join us too. We listen and dialogue; we share the journey; we encourage one another and show each other where Jesus is walking with them on the journey.

· The Mission: The two disciples hurry to share the good news that they have met Jesus – ‘they told them what had happened on the way.’ Each Emmaus Road community will intentionally and actively engage in mission – in being part of God’s self-giving love to the world. The Mission will prayerfully engage the question: ‘What concrete thing will we do together, that we cannot do alone, that participates in God’s self-giving love to the world (local and global)?’

Each individual on the Emmaus Road will be actively involved in the practice of discipleship – walking with Jesus – by being involved in a Life Transformation Group (LTG). An LTG is a group of two or three people who meet once a week to confess sin, read Scripture continuously and in context, and pray for the lost. Through the LTG, each individual will engage with the practices of Scripture, Journey, and Mission.

The LTG will be the heartbeat of Emmaus Road during the week, between the times we gather as a community.

The theology:

Emmaus Road is committed to the authority of the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments as the Word of God, and committed to continuity with the historic Christian church. Emmaus Road acknowledges and accepts the Apostle’s and Nicene Creeds of Christianity as true statements of the Christian faith, and accepts the summary of the Christian faith (The Ten Commandments, the Apostles’ Creed, The Lord’s prayer, Baptism, Holy Communion, confession and forgiveness) as found in Martin Luther’s Small Catechism.

Looking good

2009-06-22T03:18:00.000-07:00

after spending a whole lot of time playing around with it, I think I finally have the header for my blog right.
These things are important, you know!

Emmaus Road begins

2009-06-21T20:25:00.001-07:00

The Meal, The Scripture, the Journey, the Mission

After a time of prayer and fasting, much thought and many years of dreaming, the Emmaus Road Missional Community is finally getting underway. On Monday 15th June a group of us gathered to share a meal and unpack the vision for Emmaus Road. Little did I know that many of those I had invited to pray and reflect on the Emmaus Road vision were already involved in small Christian communities. The Holy Spirit is at work in different ways in different people, yet there is a wonderful sense of common purpose, vision and unity for true Christian community, shared life, walking together as followers of Jesus, and supporting each other on the journey.
As I shared the vision I asked those who were present to pray and fast and reflect back on what they hear God saying about the DNA of Emmaus Road.

For me Monday night was both a culmination and a beginning. A culmination of many years of excitement about the thoughts of cell church, house church, multiplying disciples, and mission that I've had; a culmination of much research. Now the scary and exciting part begins - the part where the rubber of faith hits the road of life, and Emmaus Road is no longer a dream in my head. It's in God's hands now. This is a beginning and like all beginnings the road ahead is unknown. There are glimpses of the path but no certainties.

Although it has taken more time than this impatient disciple would have liked, I know that this is God's timing. Starting earlier would have been disastrous; I would have been wandering around in the dark, and most likely heading for disappointment. But some extra wisdom from others who are walking the journey, and some wonderful people God has placed in our path, have meant a clearer vision, deeper patience and purer DNA for Emmaus Road.

We shared a meal, and we begin to share our lives around Scripture.
At last!

I love paradigm shifts

2009-04-17T19:51:00.000-07:00

Does it go like this for others too? Don't blog for ages then suddenly it all seems to come at once...

I had a couple of exciting paradigm shifts over Easter. These were the 'it all makes sense at once' kind of paradigm shifts, not the 'painful, long process of wrestling with it' kind of paradigm shifts.
It's nice to have the former once in a while!

Here they are, for what they're worth - more to me than you, probably, but they might prove helpful to some...

1. I've come to believe the Fourth Gospel - commonly called the 'Gospel according to John' - was written by none other than Lazarus, who was raised from the dead by Jesus. In Chapter 11, Lazarus is called 'The one Jesus loves.' It's only in Chapter 13 that we first encounter 'The disciple Jesus loved.' This theory, to my mind, neatly solves some of the big problems I've had with the Gospel of John, if written by John Zebedee. For more on this, check out Ben Witherington's blog at
http://benwitherington.blogspot.com/2007/01/was-lazarus-beloved-disciple.html

It's certainly worth thinking about!

2. Who was there when Jesus was teaching 'in private' in Luke 9?
To start off this bit, I want to quote Luke 9:18-22.
Once when Jesus was praying in private and his disciples were with him, he asked them, 'Who do the crowds say I am?' They replied, 'Some say John the Baptist, others say Elijah, and still others say one of the prophets of long ago has come back to life.'
'But what about you? Who do you say I am?' He asked.
Peter answered, 'You are the Christ of God.'

Jesus strictly warned them not to tell this to anyone. And he said, 'The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the chief priests, the elders, and the teachers of the law, and he must be killed and on the third day rise again.'

This is a KEY piece of Jesus' teaching to 'his disciples,' which Luke says happened 'in private.' Now, once you have read this passage, ask yourself: Who was there? Who are among the disciples? What do they look like? What kind of people are they?

Now, I want to quote you from Luke 24.
v1 On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. In their fright, the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, 'Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, he has risen! Remember how he told YOU, while he was still with you in Galilee, "The Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, be crucified, and on the third day be raised again." '
They THEY remembered his words.

Now, do you begin to see what I am getting at? Jesus was teaching his disciples in private. He strictly warned them not to tell anyone. Yet the angels say to the women, 'Remember how he told YOU...'

In other words, the women who came to the tomb must have been present when Jesus was teaching his disciples the core of his mission in private.
That means, every time in Luke we read the word 'disciples' we must presume at least the high possibility that women were included in that group.
This is strongly supported by Luke 8:1-3.
After this, Jesus traveled about from one town to another, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom of God. The Twelve were with him, and ALSO some women who had been cured of evil spirits and diseases...Mary Magdalene...Joanna...Susanna, and many others. These women were helping to support them out of their own means.

This has blown the top of my head off! I am so used to the Sunday School picture of Jesus surrounded just by men, especially when he was with 'The disciples.' But that ain't the case at all!
As Jesus travelled around, he travelled with women in his entourage. They are explicitly among the disciples.

Hmm.
I hope these two thoughts new to me give you pause for thought.

It's Sunday...and Christ is risen! (An Easter Dawn Sermon)

2009-04-17T16:41:00.001-07:00

This is an Easter Dawn sermon.

Do you know what day it is, as the dawn's fingers break the grip of darkness, and light begins to spread through the Eastern sky?
Do you know what day it is, as cracks begin to appear in death's icy surface?

What day is it?
It's Sunday!
And Death has begun to lose his grip on this world and all its people.
It's Sunday!
And the sins of the world have been hurled into the depths of the sea, buried in the depths of the tomb, forgiven, forgotten!
It's Sunday!
And the earthquake which has its epicentre at a tomb outside Jerusalem is sending ripples of new creation into the entire world, into the whole cosmos!
It's Sunday!
And the angels have been sent on assignment with the best Good News that ever humans had the privilege to hear!
It's Sunday!
And the massive stone has been flipped aside like a pebble so the women and disciples can see for themselves where once a body lay!
It's Sunday!
And the wrappings of death are lying folded neatly, empty!
It's Sunday!
And Mary is about to be met by the Messiah, and have her name spoken into life, and her mourning turned to joy!
It's Sunday!
And a shamefaced denier is about to be embraced, to know he is home free, about to be lifted and forgiven and transformed and sent without fear.
It's Sunday!
And prodigals are coming home, dressed in the best robe by their father, and the Feast is beginning.
It's Sunday!
And hearts of stone are being surgically removed and replaced with hearts of flesh.
It's Sunday!
And the Holy Spirit is being poured out in these hearts of flesh.
It's Sunday!
And two disciples are about to have their hearts ignited by a roadside conversation with an unrecognised stranger.
It's Sunday!
And Tom, the hard-core skeptic, is about to get hands-on evidence.
It's Sunday!
And the word 'Peace' takes on a whole new meaning.
It's Sunday!
And you are risen to life!
It's Sunday!
For YOU are just as much a part of Sunday morning as you are of that Friday Afternoon that came before.

It's Sunday!
For Christ is risen, he is risen indeed! Amen!

Ashes

2009-02-09T21:50:00.000-08:00

Ashes.
Stunned, like the rest of Australia, by the speed and ferocity of the bushfires last Saturday and by the horrific loss of life. Grieving - weeping with those who weep, and praying for the survivors and favourable weather for the firefighters. For this is bushfire season, and we are only beginning February, traditionally the time of greatest danger in our state. The country is still tinder-dry. One more hot day with blazing northerly winds and we may see more devastation.

In times like this, words often fail.
Lord, have mercy.

Ashes.
The ancient rite for the Imposition of ashes on Ash Wednesday reminds us of our mortality.

Dust we are and to dust we shall return.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

May these ashes be for us a sign of our mortality and penitence, and a reminder that we receive eternal life by God's gift alone, through Jesus Christ our Saviour.

Amen.

The fires this Saturday also remind us of our mortality. We like to think we are in control of our lives and our deaths, but the sheer fact is we are not. Because of sin, every one of us will die, and the fatalities in the bushfires are only the pointy end of that truth. Our lives - and our deaths - are not our own to control. There is only one who has the answer for death; it is Jesus, who has taken on our sin, who has gone through death and come out the other side, and offers to us a life that does not come crashing to an end, a life that not even death can snatch from us.

For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. So says Paul in Romans 3.

It's appropriate, at such a time of disaster, to remember that God's people have always faced disaster and death; they have often put words to their response. We are neither the first nor the last to face tragedy. It's appropriate for us to lament, as an act of faith, to ask 'Why, God?' To put our anger and grief and confusion into words, and to let God have those words. His shoulders are big enough to take whatever we have to throw at him. He may not give easy answers. But he does lovingly listen to our questions.

And so the words of Psalm 80.

Hear us, O Shepherd of Israel,
you who lead Joseph like a flock.
You who sit enthroned between the cherubim...
awaken your might, come and save us.
Restore us, O God.
Make your face shine upon us,
that we may be saved.
O Lord God Almighty,
how long will your anger smoulder against the prayers of your people?
You have fed them with the bread of tears;
you have made them drink tears by the bowlful...
Your vine is cut down, it is burned with fire;
at your rebuke your people perish.

Restore us, O Lord God Almighty,
make your face shine upon us
that we may be saved.

Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord.
O Lord, hear my voice.

A Midsummer's Evening in Melbourne

2009-01-19T01:59:00.000-08:00

Got to love Melbourne when it turns on this sort of weather. One of the few warmish days we've had, up into the high 30's. But come evening, and it's absolutely gorgeous. I took my youngest daughter out to the park just a minute's walk from our house. The sun was setting in a blaze of orange in the west, and the night was rising - that pink-tinged deep purple colour coming up in the east, the earth's shadow. Temperature perfect, and everyone else obviously thought so too.

I guess we live in an eclectic, multicultural part of Melbourne. There on the swing were a couple of beautiful coffee-coloured Ethiopian children, with tight curls and big dark eyes, swinging away while their mother talked vociferously on her mobile. She was wearing a colourful hijab, and I saw a use for that piece of attire that I hadn't before: apparently, it is possible to tuck your mobile in beside your ear under a tightly-fitted hijab. Presto, hands free mobile usage!

Meanwhile, an Indian and Chinese kid played on the slide. A couple of Chinese adults sat languidly on the park seat, watching proceedings peacefully. Around the oval walked the Italians and Chinese and Caucasian exercisers. My daughter quite stood out: the only blondie to be seen, with white skin and golden hair, telling me and everyone in earshot that she'd obviously grown overnight because now she could reach the monkey bars. Her theory is that 'you grow more when you sleep more.' So after every sleep she wants to check out whether she's grown or not.

I'm so grateful to have been placed in this part of the world. Not that I don't miss my friends from the Sunshine Coast; just that I believe this is where God wants us right now. So many cultures. So many people. A place to be planted and blossom. I look forward to the rest of this year with anticipation.

The Power of Presence

2009-01-12T20:19:00.000-08:00

A happening today reminded me of the Power of Presence. 'Presence' means 'being there, being around, hanging out'.
For some reason, I decided to go and hang out around the Southbank leisure precinct, read my book and do some planning and thinking there rather than staying cloistered in my study (it might have been God gently prodding me in the right direction. Or maybe coincidence. Whichever, just remember that coincidences happen more often when you pray. Or perhaps God is more visible when you have your eyes open looking for him).
Anyway, it's a hot day in Melbourne. I'm on the South Bank of the Yarra, a beautiful promenade, sitting in the shade, reading my book, doing my research, hanging out. Being present. A young man (younger than me, I think, anyway) starts hanging around me, casting sideways glances, and finally gets up the courage to ask me, 'What book are you studying there?' I show him the cover. The Forgotten Ways by Alan Hirsch. A book that changed my life and started me on the missional journey I now find myself on. 'Great book,' I enthuse, 'Have you read it?'
'That book changed my life!' he replies. Thereupon we enter into a discussion; two once-were-strangers, and Danny (that's his name) tells me about how he 'got in with the wrong crowd' after high school, went off the rails, lost his faith to some degree, until a family friend gave him that very book. The Forgotten Ways. Where he rediscovered his faith in Jesus. Turns out Danny is from Tasmania. He's just visiting Melbourne, hanging around Southbank waiting to meet up with his cousin and have a bit more of a look around Melbourne.
The power of presence. You can't have any impact if you're not there.

I wonder what might happen if we who are followers of Jesus started 'hanging out' a bit more, just being there, remembering that where we are, Jesus is. Maybe reading our Bibles in public space. (Don't get me wrong, not reading out loud, or bible bashing, or anything, but just being there.) Maybe meeting for a chat and a prayer with another follower of Jesus - in a cafe rather than in a church building or our own homes.

I learned something about the Power of Presence when I joined a local cricket team in Queensland. Of course, the guys on the team, beer-drinking, hard-swearing, loud-farting Aussie guys, gave me plenty of stick when they heard what I 'do' for a living. 'Rev,' they called me, and 'Father' (I was a wicketkeeper and got this from the slips). But I was just there to play cricket. Not to police their language or put a damper on their celebrations or anything else, just to play cricket. To be there. And guess what? It took a couple of years. But finally one of my cricket mates asked me some of the 'God questions.' I didn't bring it up; I was just there, playing cricket. Drinking a beer at the club with the others afterwards. Well, now my friend is a follower of Jesus too.

The power of presence.

Here's a quote from the very book I was reading today, that catalysed a conversation with Danny, my new friend from Tasmania:

"Presence. The fact that God was in the Nazarene neighbourhood for thirty years and no one noticed should be profoundly disturbing to our normal ways of engaging mission. Not only does it have implications for our affirmation of normal human living, it says something about the timing as well as the relative anonymity of incarnational ways of engaging in mission...One of the profound implications of our presence as representatives of Jesus is that Jesus actually likes to hang out with the people we hang out with. They get the implied message that God actually likes them..." (Alan Hirsch, The Forgotten Ways, p134)

I reckon God likes hanging out at Southbank... I reckon Jesus likes cricket, and even is a bit fond of those cricketers...

Back on blog

2009-01-04T01:19:00.000-08:00

Whoa, seven months since I last updated my blog!
It's been a busy time. It's included a change of call, change of city, change of state, and all the stuff that goes along with that.
But the Emmaus Road journey now continues from Melbourne. From me, serving not as Parish Pastor at Nambour Parish but as Pastor for Tertiary and Youth Ministry at St John's Southgate, inner city Melbourne, as well as on campus at Melbourne Uni and RMIT.

I went to a family gathering yesterday, and someone commented to me, 'You were born for this job.' I think they're right, but it's not really a job... more of a calling. No one should have as much fun at their work as I am doing. I think I've found my life's work. And now I can really start to explore missionality and different expressions of church, especially in the tertiary and urban context. Hope you can join me in this phase of my journey. Would love to get your comments.

By the way, how is it possible to be countercultural in our digital age? To give face-to-face conversations priority? To be present to, and engage with, real live people right in front of us, along with all the nuances and complexities and difficulties that people bring in real life rather than virtual/digital communities?

I've been musing on this, and think that perhaps one of the reasons relationships sometimes seem 'easier' online is that in our online personas, we can filter out all the bad bits, the rough bits, the unedited bits. We only get the 'good part' of the interaction, and we don't have to deal with the messiness of emotions and silences and awkward moments.
How can we challenge the culture?

Any ideas on counterculture within a digital community, I'd love to hear them!

Luke confronts Darth Padme

2008-05-24T04:30:00.000-07:00

This idea kind of popped into my head while talking with my Star Wars mad daughters...
Hope you get a chuckle.

Anzac Day - Australia's most solemn religious festival?

2008-05-09T00:04:00.000-07:00

I haven't blogged for a while...went on four weeks holiday after Easter which was wonderful.
While my family was in Hervey Bay, Anzac Day arrived. We decided to go to the Anzac Parade as a family. We couldn't get park the car anywhere near Freedom Park. In this (not-so- sleepy) seaside holiday town, there must have been thousands of people packed into the park, spilling over onto the road, crammed in around the edges, whole families giving up hours of their public holiday and a morning of their long weekend to witness the march and the ceremony.
Hence the title of this blog. I believe Anzac Day has become Australia's most solemn day, the day on which more people celebrate a festival which is indeed religious than any other day of the year. I would hazard a guess that there are more people gathering for Anzac Day each year in Australia than gather in church to celebrate Christmas, Easter, or Good Friday.
Somehow the mythos of what happened at Gallipoli, and the fields of the Somme and Flanders in France, has seeped its way into the very identity and spirituality of the Australian people. Despite the fact that the last of the Gallipoli Anzacs died of old age several years ago, thousands of young people make their pilgrimage to Gallipoli and the poppy fields of France for Anzac Day each year (by the way, I'm not decrying this, simply seeking to understand) .
How and why has this happened? Gallipoli was a defeat, a glorious, heroic defeat for the soldiers of the fledgling countries of Australia and New Zealand. Anzac Day definitely has to do with spirituality as defined earlier in this blog...those intersections of belonging, transcendence, purpose, and identity which help to define the spiritual.
When I listened to the speeches, they spoke of sacrifice, of courage. of freedom, of laying down one's life for one's friends and country.
'The Anzacs gave their life to win our freedom. They paid the price so we wouldn't have to. They paid the ultimate sacrifice so others could have a better life.'
These are basically verbatim quotes from the leaders. To me, they sound very familiar. The Christian faith is built around truths exactly like that. And the playing of the last post has a haunting, penetrating quality, the one time in some of our lives when we stop to think about such solemn things as death and sacrifice and ultimate meaning.
Perhaps the 'spirit of the Anzacs' has become for us Aussies a myth, not in the sense of something untrue but as a story that resonates so deeply that it gives shape and meaning to our own lives. Perhaps in some way this myth points beyond itself to another 'true myth' (in the words of CS Lewis) of freedom and love and self-sacrifice and death and life. Maybe the Anzac story becomes for our culture a resonance, a remembrance, and an entry point for the gospel of Jesus.

Maybe you had a similar experience on Australia's most solemn religious festival.

And then everyone went off to the pub, or to the beach, or to watch footy...until Anzac Day next year.

The blessing of the dying

2008-02-15T03:51:00.000-08:00

Beauty. Story. Renewal. Journey. That's the byline of this blog. Something beautiful happened to me today, a story worth telling, I believe.
As a local minister I occasionally lead the 'church service' on a Friday in the local hospital's dementia wing. This happens every six weeks. I began these services with trepidation, but have come to love them - I am sure the residents give more to me than I do to them. To aid in sparking the memory of residents with dementia, I wear my robes and stoles and crucifix as I lead the service. One dear lady, called Pat, recognised the symbolism. She's a Roman Catholic, I'm pretty sure. I was saying hello to her before the service began. While holding her hand, she drew me close, looked into my eyes, and said just for me, 'Father, I want to tell you something.' 'What do you want to tell me?' I asked.
'I want to die,' Pat said, factually, without a trace of self-pity or despair. 'Why do you want to die?' I asked in return.
'My husband died in 1944 in the war. Ever since then, I've wanted to die. My mother died a few years ago. My daughter died when she was only 56 years old. I want to die.'
She wasn't depressed; her eyes were quite clear. A remarkable conversation for a lady in the advanced stages of dementia, I thought. And I was privileged to be on the receiving end. So I followed a hunch. 'You want to go home, to be with God, to see your husband and your mum and your daughter again, is that right?'
'Yes, that's right, Father,' she said.
I did something then which may have been a bit surprising - and, I believe, was certainly liberating for her. I simply affirmed her wish. 'That's ok,' I said quietly, 'For someone who believes in Jesus, and who knows that they'll meet God face to face and see friends and loved ones again, it's fine to want to die. You don't need to be afraid of death.'
'Yes, Father,' she said again.
The reading for the church service included John 3:16, probably the most famous verse in the whole bible because it's the heart of it all. 'For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.' Pat knows this reality more deeply than a healthy young person like me could possibly know it. After the service, I was speaking with her again. She held my hand tightly, drew me close, so close that our foreheads were touching, looking in my eyes the whole time, and smiled, and said, 'Thank you, Father.' She's more lucid and present than I have seen her for many months.
Oh, yes, I had tears in my eyes. Forget about giving it. I had just received the blessing of the dying.
Thank you, Pat.

Faith Inkubators has a blessing: Child of dust, dust you are and to dust you shall return. But may you die with the words, 'Surprise me, Jesus,' on your lips.
I know Pat will.

Thoughts on 'The God Delusion'

2008-02-10T00:29:00.000-08:00

I've just finished reading Richard Dawkins' recent bestseller, The God Delusion. It's an interesting read. While I find myself agreeing with some of what Dawkins writes, and impressed with some of his prose (especially when he is writing about science rather than religion - more on this later), my overall feeling is one of disappointment. And it runs along these lines:

Is that the best that you can do in terms of evidence for the non-existence of God? I expected a philosophical humdinger, a challenge to think about deeply. But I came away from the central thesis of the book, especially the summary of the chapter 'Why God almost certainly does not exist,' with a feeling of being let down. Now, Dawkins does offer a good challenge to some of the so-called proofs of the existence of God. He does a reasonable job of demolishing some of the arguments for God's existence, but a terrible job of establishing evidence against God's existence.

Basically, Dawkins does what he often accuses his theistic counterparts of doing: he presumes the conclusion he is trying to prove. The central argument against the existence of God is the old schoolyard conundrum, 'Well, who made God then?'
The argument, boiled right down, says this:

God, if he exists and were to have created the universe, must be highly complex (more complex than the universe itself).
Being highly complex, God must be highly improbable (he never justifies this statement! All the scientific theories I can think of, as they become more subtle and more descriptive of observable reality, become more complex, but this doesn't mean they are more improbable. Quantum physics and General Relativity, for instance, are far more complex and nuanced than the Newtonian physics they replace, but they are much better at describing the way we actually see the world).
Therefore, it is highly improbable that God exists.

Dawkins may be a great scientist but I am highly disappointed at the paucity of his philosophy! Could he not see he was presuming his conclusion?

In place of God, Dawkins posits a possible infinite cascade of universes. Instead of one elegant, subtle, complex explanation (God), which cannot be measured within the physical constraints of our universe, Dawkins posits an infinity of unmeasurable explanations (a cascade of universes) which cannot be observed from within the physical constraints of our universe. Is this really more elegant?

I must say, now, some more positive comments about the book. Dawkins is highly critical of fundamentalist religion (of all faiths) which dangerously encourages people to 'unthinking faith.' I think he's absolutely right. Faith must be a thinking faith. It is eyes wide open, not blind faith. It looks at the evidence and seeks to understand. ('Faith seeking understanding' is the phrase I believe St Augustine used).

Famously, Dawkins refuses to even consider one of the most important evidences for God's existence: the evidence of the physical resurrection of Jesus Christ. He does this by simply writing off all holy books and refusing to consider them as evidence for God's existence. A poor tactic, in my opinion.

Where the book really flies, however, is when Dawkins (especially in his last chapter) is describing the awe induced by the view of the universe that science unveils for us. Reading some of this science prose truly reminded me of the joy and wonder of discovery through science. But you don't have to be a materialist or an atheist to have that rush of transcendental wonder and awe! It was here, in the end, that I finally felt a little bit sorry for Dawkins - he's missing out on another level of wonder and awe. A relationship with the One who is immanent between the quarks and transcendent beyond the quasars and superclusters of galaxies. The One who made the whole lot is also personal; the God who is truly more complex than the universe itself actually cares about what he's made.

So what's my conclusion? A good challenge to unthinking, fundamentalist religion of all types. An awe-inspiring book on science. But poor at the philosophy and terrible at the theology. In short? He's missed out on the beauty of the Queen of Sciences.

The Parable of the Ferrari and the Datsun

2008-01-30T23:00:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time there were two cars.
One was a Ferrari, a gleaming, red (of course), low-slung machine with hundreds of horses under the bonnet and one prancing stallion on the badge.
The other was a battered old Datsun with dented front panels, tyres that looked almost bald, and seventies-style vinyl seats.
Both cars were on the same road and travelling in the same direction. They were, indeed, headed to exactly the same place.
The Ferrari was quick, attractive, comfortable, powerful. Wherever it went, it turned heads, and young people especially went, "Ooh, that looks like a car I'd like to travel in." It was glitzy and expensive and looked great. It was the car that of all of them drew the largest crowds of people wherever it went. People wanted to get on board, and go wherever that Ferrari was going.
The Datsun wasn't particularly quick. It was old and slow, and, like most of the people on board, looked like it had seen better days. Indeed it had. It didn't attract many young people; it hardly attracted any attention at all.
The Ferrari headed out on the open road; the Datsun was still stuck in traffic somewhere in the big city, garnering comments of annoyance rather than appreciation.

But here's the twist.
The road turned out to be much more like the road between Kampala and Lira than the road between Brisbane and Nambour. Imagine hundreds of kilometers of rugged gravel, with potholes that could swallow a hippo (or wallow a hippo if it rained). There are road works designed to slow down Ugandan bus drivers: hundreds of speed bumps, 50cm high and 50cm long, designed to slow speeding buses. Where there is bitumen, it's also cracked and potholed and one lane wide with no shoulders. No room to pass.

Both vehicles are heading for the same place. They're on the same road. But guess which one will get there?
And how many who found the Ferrari so attractive will eventually get out in disgust as it gets marooned on the third of 300 speedbumps or loses its transmission in one of the endless potholes? How many of those passengers will say, "Vehicles. They're useless. They're all the same. What destination? I'm never hopping in a vehicle again as long as I live."
And turn their back on all vehicles, and start walking in the opposite direction.

(As all parables, of course, it's not meant to be explained. For those who want a hint: the road is life...where's the destination? What are the vehicles?)

For those who are persistent, a little bit of background:

While I was in Uganda, I had the privilege of working again with Dr Robi Sonderegger, the clinical psychologist and Christian who wrote the 'Empower' Trauma Rehab manual. One night Dr Robi and his crew came to dinner at the hotel we were staying at. One of Robi's friends asked me, 'So, what do you two see as the difference between your respective churches?' What followed was a beautiful exchange of ideas, a respectful and not defensive meeting of minds about the things which characterised our churches. Basically, we ended up agreeing that we are on the same road, travelling in the same direction, but Robi saw (as an extreme and stereotype, as he said) that the liturgical churches are old and tired and battered, especially not attractive to young people, while churches like his independent charismatic church are attractive and with-it... He said, 'We're on the same road, travelling in the same direction, heading for the same destination, but it's like the difference between travelling in a Ferrari and an old Datsun...'

Hence the parable...

The light of hope

2008-01-24T20:37:00.000-08:00

To see the light of hope returning into the eyes of people who were desperately sad, deeply touched by 'the shadow of death,' must be one of the most amazing experiences anybody can have. To see people who have been deeply traumatised by the brutal deaths of loved ones begin to lift their heads and gain control over their trauma, is one of the great privileges of my life.

Our team of eight people from our church, including myself, have just returned from a three-week trip to Northern Uganda. While we were there, our team implemented a Trauma Rehabilitation program called Empower in a new language area, around the town of Lira in Northern Uganda - a region that has been wracked by 20 years of civil war, and has only begun to experience peace from the insurgency in the last year and a half. It seems like such a simple program: a basic understanding of what trauma and stress do to the body and mind; simple but effective ways of counteracting the physical effects of trauma and the mind's unstoppable memories; sharing trauma stories; learning how to forgive and letting go of bitterness. It seems incredible that a program written at Year5 Primary level, and administered in just eight days, could be so effective.
And yet there's a greater power behind the program than simply the power of insights from clinical psychology.
God is at work in Northern Uganda, and around the world.
The ancient prophet Isaiah wrote:

'The people walking in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of the shadow of death
A light has dawened.'

The people of northern Uganda certainly live in the land of the shadow of death. Our team members at first thought that we would miss our target, the people who were really traumatised by the war with the LRA, because we were working so close to the major town of Lira and not getting out far at all. How wrong we were. Everyone in Northern Uganda has suffered major trauma. We did not meet a single person who had not lost a loved one, some in brutal circumstances. But to see women who had watched their own husbands being killed, sharing near the end of the group times how Empower had changed their lives, brought tears to my eyes. To hear (translated from Luo, the local language, from a person who speaks no English) of how someone was now sleeping well for the first time in years - how can you describe that? to see the joy on the faces of people who had been so downcast, to hear testimonies of how people had now gained control over their trauma rather than it controlling them - it's difficult to put into words. And yet God gave us the privilege of being part of this with the poorest of the poor. The light of hope shining out of eyes once filled with despair - surely the words of Isaiah are so appropriate.

It's the power of the Holy Spirit at work. The power of Jesus, who is the marvellous light that Isaiah spoke about. The call of Jesus lifted a group of average Aussies and brought them into an unfamiliar place to help bring hope. A barmaid, a retired man, a men's wear store owner, an IT lecturer from a local university, a nurse, a widow, an auto repair shop owner, and a pastor. Truly, a diverse bunch of people. Truly privileged to hear the call and follow Jesus and begin to spread his hope. It wasn't us. Just the call of Jesus. We are nobody special. But we've heard Jesus and followed him. He was there before us; he will be there after us.
One of the exciting things is, the work will continue. Our team of eight, with our African translators and co-facilitators, took about 70 people through the trauma rehab. Many of these have already begun to teach some of the skills to their friends and family. A number of these will actually go on to lead other groups; to lead other people to find freedom.

There's much more that could be said. More in future blogs.

The light of hope has dawned. What good news.

Holiness: teflon or velcro?

2007-11-28T18:19:00.000-08:00

Here's a provocative statement.
Holiness is more like velcro than teflon.

'Holiness' has got a bit of a bad name recently, I think. Partly because it's been associated with morality, doing certain things and not doing others. And unfortunately, along with that view of holiness comes quite a bit of self-righteousness, a bit of 'holier-than-thouness'. But holiness has very little to do with morality, and nothing to do with self-righteousness.

Holiness is more like velcro than teflon. It enables engagement, not isolation, with a world that desperately needs the touch of the holy, the sacred. Have a look at Jesus if you doubt the truth of this saying. He hung around with the scumbags of the world, the outcasts, the drinkers and prostitutes and tax merchants and the people that others looked down on. Jesus wasn't shunned by the ones others called 'sinners.' They were attracted to him, not repelled by him. Do you think that would have happened if he had any whiff of self-righteousness or holier-than-thouness about him? They would have run miles. No, holiness doesn't mean a teflon coating where the undesirable elements of the world just slide off, but rather traction that enables people to engage with the world. Jesus makes people holy by his touch - he infects others with holiness, rather than being infected by unholiness, if I can use that metaphor!
Holiness has little to do with morality. It's a state of being, not a state of doing. And that state of being leads to different ways of doing. Jesus shares with us his holiness and then sends us out to share it with others likewise, to touch people, to meet them where they are at, to share their lives and loves and situations without judgment or self-righteousness. And once you're infected with the holiness of Jesus, it's like a 'positive disease,' which leads to life, not death, to engagement, not isolation.

The Relational God

2007-11-28T02:03:00.000-08:00

Last Thursday I went to Brisbane to hear a renowned Old Testament scholar speak, Prof. Terry Fretheim. What he said was so stimulating and interesting to me that I wanted to blog about it. Among the many other things Prof. Fretheim spoke about, he dialogued with us at length about the God revealed in the Old Testament writings.
(None of this is my own stuff, by the way! But it's so good I had to share about it.)

Basically (said Prof Fretheim), the Biblical writers understand the world in inter-related ways - and God is a part of that inter-relatedness. The God of the OT is a RELATIONAL God - and this relationality is part of the very fabric of creation, part of the fabric of the universe. Then what came out of that really blew my socks off.

Fretheim asked, 'What are the characteristics of genuine relationships? And what does that mean for our understanding of God? If God genuinely enters into relationships with his world, that has implications for the way we understand who God is and what he is capable - or incapable - of doing.'

Here are Fretheim's five points. Think deeply about what each of them means... huge implications!

1. God so enters into relationships that ... God is not the only one who has something important to say.
(Think about your own relationships - what would a relationship be like where only one party has something important to say? How long would it last?)
This brings in the possibility of real dialogue between God and his creatures. There is the possibility of access. Prayer is not just talking to a distant deity. It is genuine communication.

2. God so enters into relationships that ... God is not the only one with something important to do and the power to do it.
In creation, God says to humans, 'I'm giving you something genuine to do and the power with which to do it.' God takes a risk and opens God's self to the possibility that the power he gives will be used in a positive or negative way.

3. God so enters into relationships that ... God is not the only one whose will counts.
God's will is resistable! The 'free will' God has given to human beings really has an impact on what happens. (Fretheim observed a couple of things here: 'Are the 10 commandments God's will? Yes? Do we sometimes resist them? Do we sometimes resist them successfully? The answer, of course, is yes!')
The implication of this is that although God has our best interests at heart at all times, sometimes what happens is 'not God's will.' There is more that goes into the outcome of an event than simply God's will. There is God's will, and my will, and the past circumstances, and the will of other people who are involved in some way in the outcome, and the past circumstances.

4. God so enters into relationships that ... God is deeply affected by what happens in the relationship.
God gets angry, tears flow, God is joyful, there is divine love, and the pleasure of God. (Fretheim asked, 'What would it mean for us to talk about the pleasure of God in the OT? In the NT?)

5. God so enters into relationships that ... the future is not all mapped out.

To say 'the future is in God's hands' brings a yes and a no. What humans do and choose has a real impact on the way the future turns out, positively or negatively.

I love this theology! I have always struggled with 'the sovereignty of God' theology, the thought that whatever happens must be God's will. (By the way, this is very much what you find in Islam. Whatever happens is 'the Will of God [Allah]' and is completely inscrutable, and must just be accepted as such.)
No, God is relational. God gives people genuine choice, genuine responsibility. Some things that happen are simply not God's will. God was, apparently, willing to take that risk, in order to be (or continue to be) the kind of relational Being which God is. God chooses to limit God's own freedom. God chooses to share power and conversation and relationship and future with God's creation. This OT picture of God is so much closer to the God I know in Jesus, who enters into such a relationship with his creation that he is willing to empty himself of his divine privileges, and talk with people, and live with people, and even die at the hands of people, than the 'Almighty Lord, Sovereign over all' whom I sometimes meet in the pages of theology.

How liberating to meet this God in the pages of the OT as well! (I always knew God was there, I just couldn't put it as eloquently as Terry Fretheim!)

Have a think - what does it mean that God genuinely enters into relationships?

Grace and joy

2007-10-10T03:04:00.000-07:00

I've just been gospelled again! I love it when than happens. This time reflecting on God's grace and the connection of grace and joy has brought it on.

God describes himself as ‘gracious and compassionate’ (Exodus 34:6) – God is grace-ful. He is full of grace, in the sense of being full of generous giving and wanting others to have the good things that he has for them. It's God’s nature to give himself away!

The Greek word for 'grace' is ‘charis’ (pronounced like the ch in the Scottish 'loch', not as in the English word ‘charm’).
The Greek word for 'joy' is ‘chara’.
My comrehensive Greek dictionary says ‘It seems that charis is not always clearly differentiated in meaning from chara.’
Grace and joy go together!
My Theological Dictionary says that in secular Greek usage, ‘charis is what delights. It may be a state causing or accompanying joy. It is joyous being or ‘charm,’ the element of delight in the beautiful, the favour shown by fortune, what is pleasing.’

So there is a deep inner connection between ‘grace’ and ‘joy.’ Grace is what delights! Grace is what liberates from any prescription of what we ‘should’ do for God. Grace produces in us a new heart, a heart which delights in doing God’s will (see Jeremiah 31:33-34 and Ezekiel 36:26-27 – this is the ‘new covenant’ that Jesus makes with us through his blood). You don’t have to do anything for God to earn his favour. He is gracious with you for the sake of Jesus. That means he delights in you! So to share in God’s generosity, and show grace to others, is to share in God’s delight and joy. No wonder true generosity is such a liberating, joyful thing!

As we grow in the knowledge of God’s grace and undeserved favour to us, we more and more delight in what God himself delights in.

St Augustine said, ‘Love God and do what you want.’ Dangerous, wouldn’t you agree? But the emphasis, of course, is on 'loving God.' Because when that happens, then 'what you want' is joyfully transformed.

Psalm 37:4 says, ‘Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.’ What? Really?
Yes, because our desires are sanctified as we grow in our relationship with God. More and more, we want what God wants. God wants freedom for us. God wants life. His commands are designed to guide us into that life and protect our freedom. And when we don’t live up to them, we also feel God’s commands accusing us (in Latin they say ‘Lex semper accusat’ – ‘the law always accuses’ – but it doesn’t only accuse, it also guides and protects!).

(Of course, this is not to say that in our Christian living we should only do ‘what we feel like doing.’ God wants to share his joy with us, and the commands he gives us are for our good, our long-term joy. To say, for instance, ‘I’m not going to show love to my wife today, because I don’t feel like it,’ is nonsense. God’s command to me as a husband to love my wife, is a command designed to bring the greatest possible long-term joy to myself and my family. All such a statement shows is that my feelings, along with the rest of me, are tainted by sin and so needs to come under the scrutiny of God’s word.)

Remember how I said that the Greek word for ‘grace’ is ‘charis’? It’s also the word for ‘gratitude’ and one of the words for ‘generosity’! To be generous with others is to enter into grace! To be full of gratitude is to live out of grace - the two words are the same!
There is also a deep inner connection between ‘grace’ (charis) and ‘thanksgiving’ (eu-charis-teo). God’s grace causes our thanksgiving! The words come from the same root. God gives us grace – and when that overflows from our lives, it comes out as thankgiving and gratitude.

I’m beginning to understand the sense that I have had that ‘natural learning’ and ‘faith’ or ‘the gospel’ are connected to each other. In fact, I think ‘natural learning’ is a parallel, a parable, if you want, of faith and the gospel.
In natural learning, there are no boxes to tick. There are no levels to achieve. We don't learn because we want good grades. We learn because we delight in learning.
In a similar but more profound way, there are no ‘shoulds’ in our relationship with God through Jesus Christ. There are no boxes to tick. There are no levels to achieve. We don't live the way God wants because we want 'good grades' or a 'good report' from him. We live God’s way because we delight in living God’s way. We are saved by grace and we live by grace.
This understanding of the parallels between natural learning and faith also explains my niggling feeling that some of the ‘unschoolers’ I know are more gracious than some Christians I know! They are more joyful. There are less boxes to tick. They are more willing to be gracious with others (especially their children) than some Christians who still see ‘Christianity’ as ‘striving’ or ‘moral goodness’ or boxes to tick – in other words, a religion!

The grace of God has ended the religious enterprise of box-ticking, grade-making God-pleasing once and for all.

Woohoo!

Not serious at all - Just for fun

2007-09-23T23:39:00.000-07:00

Here's a couple of cartoons. Just for fun, nothing more. Hope you get a chuckle.

Really? Are you serious?

2007-09-18T22:16:00.000-07:00

A recent conversation with one of my friends has been haunting me. It gets to the heart of what I say I believe - but more importantly, perhaps, of the way that I show I believe.

We were talking about how some church congregations 'expect' people to 'do more,' to be more involved, etc, and people who don't are disparagingly spoken of as 'pew-warmers.' Well, one of the things that most exasperates me (and I believe it exasperated Jesus too) is any legalistic version of 'Christianity'. Legalism and grace are completely incompatible, in my mind. Religion and faith in Jesus are two different things (see my earlier post titled When everything you think you know isn't true).

So I said something to my friend, something slightly cynical like, 'So, just coming to church and receiving God's grace isn't enough?'
And she responded, 'Yeah, but you don't really mean that for the people in your church, do you?'
The conversation drifted onto other topics at that point, but her question haunted me.

I can't get it out of my mind.
There are two levels of response in my mind to this.
One is, if I'm honest with myself as a pastor, a tendency to want to 'use' people for their gifts, talents, for what 'they can do' for me and for the church. I confess. It's true. There's part of me that sees someone in church and thinks, 'What could they be doing for the church?' And this is the same part of me that sees a healthy bank account and thinks, 'wow, just think what I could do with that money!' And it's the same part of me that sees a woman in a bikini and looks a little more lingeringly than is really necessary. And that is the part that needs God's grace, repentance, forgiveness.
Eugene Peterson says this: 'The moment we begin to see others in terms of what they can do rather than who they are, we mutilate community and violate humanity.' And that's true too. My conscience twinges me. Just as it does when I look too hard at a woman in a bikini.

There is a deeper part of me that says, 'No! I don't want to use people for what they can do.'
This part of me longs to let people simply be, wants to have people sit in the pew simply to receive God's grace, nothing more. This part of me wants more than anything else for people to hear and know the good news that God brings through Jesus: 'You don't have to do anything to please me. Nada. Zilch. Zip. Not a thing. I have done it all for you. Not give more money to church or charity. Not pray or be pious or do good works or go to church or play music for the church or light the candles or be more involved or anything. Not a thing. I am pleased with you for Jesus' sake.'

I know for a deep truth that when people have really encountered this grace of God, when they know the truth of God's gospel as good news right down in the depths of their being, then you can't stop them. People who've been graced by God in this way - try and hold them back! They are constantly energised to do stuff, to get involved with what God is doing in this world - not by guilt or 'should' or any external motivation, but by the life-giving Gospel. To be honest, I would rather not have anyone do anything in my congregation because they think they should. I'd rather have them simply sitting in the pew, receiving God's grace.

Really? Are you serious?
Yep.
With all my redeemed heart.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer said,
But it is the grace of the gospel, which is so hard for the pious to understand, that it confronts us with the truth and says: You are a sinner, a great, desperate sinner; now come, as the sinner you are, to God who loves you. He wants you as you are; He does not want anything from you, a sacrifice, a work; He wants you alone...He wants to see you as you are, He wants to be gracious to you.'

St Paul wrote,
I am not ashamed of the Gospel, because it is the power of God to save everyone who believes.

Are you serious?
Yep, I am.

OF God and goo, me and you

2007-09-09T03:10:00.000-07:00

My kids and I had the best fun you can legally have in your kitchen the other day. We made 'goo' (and you can too! Watch out, Dr Seuss may get a workout in this blog post!). It's really simple to make goo, but utterly fascinating. Just take about a cup of water. Put it in a bowl. Now slowly add cornflour, stirring so it's well mixed in. When the mixture looks like thickened cream, something really weird happens.

It's still a liquid! It flows like cream! If you put a fork or spoon on it, it will sink. But! Try and pick some up. Try and push a fork or spoon or knife or your finger into it. You can't. If it doesn't bounce off, the 'liquid' just crumbles like a really dry lump of powder. (Go on, try it after you read this post! Bet you can't play with it for just five minutes!) By the way, it's really easy to clean up off the table. It drips onto the table, but you can pick it up as a hard little ball. And after all, it's just cornflour.

It's called a non-Newtonian fluid - an everyday substance with really weird properties.

My friend Jo said, 'Hey, that's like people!' After she watched a spoon sink then tried to pull it out. 'Go gently and you can make good progress. Push too hard and you suddenly get heaps of resistance.'

And, I would say, you can make them crumble!

Hmm. Human relationships as non-Newtonian fluids. That's a new image for me. Play around with goo for a while and see if you agree.

(In Dr Seuss, that's 'Play with goo. You can too. Now you see - do you agree?')

Actually, I think God knows people are non-Newtonian. God created this universe, the whole bit, right? So he's got heaps of power. But God is aware that if he pushes us too hard, we will crumble. If he pushes too hard, we will resist. Sure, God could make us be good. He's got enough power to do that. But that would ruin the properties he really wants from us - freely given love, for one thing. Instead of flowing, people would crumble and crumple under his power. So God goes slowly and gracefully, graciously, in his interactions with people - with us. He doesn't muscle his way in. He gets into the fluid, sinks into it, immerses himself in this fluid of human relationships, slowly, gently, non-threateningly. An embryo within a mother's womb? A baby in a manger? Those things aren't threatening (except to power-hungry despots who have some sort of inkling what kind of power this little baby might have). A man telling weird stories about seeds and paths and birds and banquets and stuff? How world changing could that possibly be? One who refuses to use the power available to him, even to save his own life.

That is grace. A God who could smash us into fine, powdery chunks instead treats us gently and gracefully, working with us rather than against us, forgiving, changing people from the inside out.

The things you can learn in your kitchen...

(Just try and Dr Seuss that!)

Is anybody out there?

2007-08-29T23:01:00.000-07:00

I suppose this is one of the pitfalls of cyberspace. I wonder if everyone who writes a blog eagerly checks for comments or feedback. Well, if you're anything like me - and I know that I am - then you'd be eagerly checking. Is anyone reading this? I'd love to see your comments...

What is spirituality, really?

2007-08-29T22:35:00.000-07:00

There is a lot of talk these days about how people are into 'Spirituality' - maybe not Jesus or church, but definitely 'Spirituality.' For me, that's always been a 'waffle word' - a word that doesn't really mean anything, doesn't really have any content. For me, trying to define 'spirituality' is like trying to nail jelly to a tree.

Over the last few days I've been attending a Youth Ministry conference with Dr Roland Martinson, who's done a huge amount of research into Youth and Family Ministry and what makes for faithful, effective long term faith formation in young people. (See www.exemplarym.com for more info -it's really worth a look if you're interested in this.)

Rolly has given me some definitions, and I've just read in Eugene Peterson (one of my favourite, most subversive authors), some things which have finally helped me get a handle on that 'waffle word.' I'm a definitions sort of guy. So here goes.

Rolly suggests 'spirituality' includes these four dimensions:
1. The wonderment of identity: questions such as Who Am I? What does it mean to be human?
2. The intersection of belonging: Where do we belong? Where am I at home?
3. The questions of purpose and meaning: What is life about?
4. The presence of mystery: the sense of the numinous, the sense of transcendence, the sneaking suspicion that there is more to this whole existence than what we can see or observe empirically.

I think those are pretty good places to begin, actually!

And now a quote from Eugene Peterson:

" Spirituality is the attention we give to our souls, to the invisible interior of our lives that is the core of our identity, these image-of-God souls that comprise our uniqueness and glory. Spirituality is the concern we have for the invisibility that inheres in every visibility, for the interior that provides context for every exterior. It necessarily deals much with innerness, with silence, with solitude. It takes all matters of the soul with utmost seriousness..."

Peterson adds a word of caution about 'spirituality':

This would appear to be a wonderful thing...in actual practice spirituality very often develops into neurosis, degenerates into selfishness, becomes pretentious, turns violent. How does this happen? The short answer is that this happens when we step outside the Gospel story and take ourselves as the basic text for our spirituality; we begin exegeting ourselves as a sacred text."
(Subversive Spirituality, p6-7).

And this is my problem with the 'waffle word,' spirituality! Often selfish! Often neurotic! Often violent! How are we to stop this degeneration of what should be something deep and beautiful?

Peterson points the way:

"True spirituality, Christian spirituality, takes attention off ourselves and focuses it on another, on Jesus... Spirituality - the attention we give to our souls - turns out in practice (when we let [The Gospel of] St Mark shape our practice) to be the attention we give to God revealed in Jesus."

Can you see how Jesus - the grace of God in human flesh - addresses those deepest issues of the mind and heart, the four dimensions of spirituality, Identity, Belonging, Purpose and Meaning, and Mystery, in ways that stop spirituality going bad?

Interesting times!
I'll write more soon about the description of 'mature faith in youth' that we learnt about at the Conference, and I'd love you to consider what that means for your parenting, mentoring, youth leadering, or homeschooling!

A Franciscan Benediction

2007-08-12T03:44:00.000-07:00

May God bless you with discomfort
At easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships
So that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger
At injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people,
So that you may work for justice, freedom, and peace.

May God bless you with tears
To shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger and war,
So that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and
To turn their pain into joy.

And may God bless you with enough foolishness
To believe that you can make a difference in the world,
So that you can do what others claim cannot be done,
To bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor.

Amen. May it be so.

Why am I a Christian?

2007-08-07T17:43:00.000-07:00

This is a ‘confession of faith’ – a beginning of an attempt to answer the question, ‘Why am I a Christian?’ It was originally written as a prayer in my prayer journal.

I read a science blog recently that set me to thinking deeply about the question, ‘Why am I a Christian?’ The writer was a self-confessed Christian and a scientist, who spoke of the ‘cognitive dissonance’ of Christians who have come to believe, for example, that the Universe is very old and that evolution is a reality. In other words, such Christians can no longer be ‘Biblical literalists’ – taking every word of the Bible, in particular the creation accounts of Genesis 1-2, as literally accurate.
This blog spoke of two possible responses. The first is to try to protect the integrity of reason. This can be done in two ways: 1) Give up on the Scriptures altogether as in any way historical, accurate, factual. Some who do this perhaps even give up on faith. 2) Try to reason why faith is still reasonable – for example, through Intelligent Design theory – the theory that we can find incontrovertible evidence of God’s handiwork in nature.
The second response is to maintain the integrity of faith, and give up on some aspects of reason, or hold them in tension with Biblical thought.

So given that I am a person who has come to believe – in a scientific sense, from a knowledge of the available current evidence – that the Universe is very old, why am I a Christian?

This, of course, is a complex question that requires a complex answer. So please bear with me.

Reason, truth, faith, evidence

First, I’d like to say something about the nature of faith, truth, reason, and evidence.
When we say that we trust reason, we are almost always saying that we trust someone else’s reason – that is, we are placing our trust in the interpretation of evidence someone else has gathered. A few crude examples. Have you ever seen a gall bladder? Felt one? Held one in your hand? Yet few would claim such an object doesn’t exist. Have you ever observed a quark for yourself? Have you done the experiment with a supercollider that shows a spike where the W boson is predicted to show a spike on a graph? Have you ever measured the redshift of a distant galaxy, let alone several hundred distant galaxies, in order to come up with good evidence that the Universe really is old?
In other words, what we are used to calling ‘science’ and ‘reason’ and ‘evidence’ is actually based, largely, in what I would call faith. That is, an act of trust in someone else’s evidence. Science is a consensus on how to understand and interpret observations largely gathered by other people. It’s impossible, of course, to live as a true skeptic, only believing what you have personally observed and verified in a laboratory. Human beings just can’t operate in that way.

In short, almost all of what we believe is based in what I would call faith – an act of trust in someone else. (There may be a good number of these someone elses, all saying the same thing, of course. That’s what we have to weigh up.)
In other words, faith is the ground of almost all of what we call ‘knowledge.’
Questions of epistemology also come in here. What is truth? How do we know what is a fact and what is not? I’m reminded of a saying that goes, ‘Data is not information. Information is not knowledge. Knowledge is not wisdom.’

OK, so with that brief treatment of some background terms, I can get into the question itself. Why am I a Christian?

3 Basic miracles

I am a Christian because I believe in three basic miracles.
Those miracles are creation, incarnation, and resurrection.

Creation
I believe in Creation. I believe the sentence, ‘In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.’ (How God did so, I'm not sure!) I used to be a seven-day, young earth creationist. But I am no longer a biblical literalist. The Scriptures (including the creation accounts) are written from the viewpoint of ancient cosmology. But I believe the Scriptures are written in the form God wants them to be in. A creation account written in early-twenty-first-century cosmological terms would be meaningless to all but the people living in this time – and outdated by the mid-twentyfirst century. I believe in Scripture not merely as literal history but as revelation. The reveal to us what God wants us to know about God’s self. They are comprehensible to faith – a certain act of trust. Scripture is like incarnation. It is God coming down to our level, writing through the hands of human authors (and their thought processes!) – God’s word contained in, and limited by, human words.
(Just a couple of asides here. I do believe that the Gospels and Acts, for instance, are written essentially as they occurred, and are, if you want to use the words, historical documents. I also believe other important parts of the revelation – the Exodus, God’s covenant with Abraham, to name a couple, are also historical accounts.
Also, isn’t it interesting in the Genesis 1 account that creation begins with light – with energy, in other words. Just a hundred years ago, scientists would have scoffed – how can there be light when there are no stars? But now ‘Let there be light’ describes more succinctly than anything else I’ve heard what the Universe was like just after the Big Bang as propounded by modern cosmologists. Not that it’s right just because it agrees with the current theory. In another hundred years it might be hopelessly out of touch with current theories. Just an interesting observation, that’s all.)
So perhaps creationism – and even Intelligent Design theory – are seeking evidence of God where he has not promised to be found – ie in nature. I don’t think it’s foolish to seek evidence of God’s handiwork in nature, even to be awed and reverent because of nature; but I don’t think we should be surprised if we don’t find such evidence. As an analogy, if a character in a novel were alive and self-aware, would this character find evidence that they are the work of an author? Only if the author would reveal themselves or give the game away by writing a sentence like, ‘This is a novel!’ or ‘You are in a book!’
‘God of the gaps’ is bad science and bad theology. Saying only of what we do not understand, ‘God did it,’ is a terrible way to proceed. Just because we understand a process doesn’t mean that God is not doing it! Just because we understand planets orbit the sun because of gravity, a curved spacetime metric, for example, doesn’t mean that God is not the underlying cause or author of gravity, any less than this would be true if we found angels pushing the planets to keep them in orbit. God is immanent to his creation and he is sustaining his creation. He’s between (in, with and under) the quarks and the quantum vacuum in a similar way to the way the paper and ink are between the characters and plot of a novel. He’s beyond the quasars and superclusters of galaxies in the same way the author is not confined between the pages of the novel. God doesn’t have to leave comprehensible evidence of himself in the pages (matter, time, energy) of the universe. Yet if he doesn’t uphold and sustain – then no more creation. Creation is not self-subsistent any more than a computer program (to change the analogy) can keep running on a computer when it’s switched off.
So yes, first, I believe in creation. And I believe in the Creator.

Incarnation
Second, I believe in the second miracle – incarnation.
That God would come down into his creation, enter into it, become a human being. And reveal himself to us there. The grace of God is the deepest truth (as opposed to just information), the ground of my being. My deepest reality, which is surer than my knowledge (almost all second hand, remember?) that the universe is old or that quarks exist. I know the truth of the grace of God shown in Jesus. I believe the evidence of incarnation – played out on the pages of human history and in the laboratory of the human heart (as Pascal said). In the end, you have to trust someone. You have to have faith in something. Science, the scientific method, evidence, yes, these are good. But I think there’s a difference between facts and truth. I think truth is relational. Love, forgiveness, beauty – these things are true although they are not measurable, repeatable in a laboratory, observable scientific facts.
Jesus said, ‘I am the truth.’ A stunning claim. Well worth investigating. I have grown to believe that it’s a true claim. Jesus was who he said he was. (I might need to expand on this one later)

Resurrection
Third, I believe in the third miracle. Resurrection.
I believe the evidence of the historical, bodily resurrection of Jesus is quite overwhelming – in a historical sense, and also in a personal, experiential sense. Jesus did not stay dead. Many have reproduced such evidence. Many works of apologetics have been written on this. Many who have taken it upon themselves to investigate the evidence, even those setting out to disprove it, have come to the same conclusions. (Malcolm Muggeridge, CS Lewis, Josh McDowell, Rick Warren come to mind. 12 disciples come to mind. Saul of Tarsus comes to mind.)
Why am I a Christian? How can I be a Christian and a ‘scientist’ ( I did do a BSC majoring in Pure maths and Theoretical Physics)? Because I believe in these three miracles: Creation (and therefore a Creator); Incarnation (that Jesus was who he said he was) and Resurrection (so a living, personal redeemer who speaks and acts and lives now). If you are willing to grant these three miracles, then the other miracles all follow (not automatically, but as pointers). If you refuse to grant these three miracles, then the other miracles are nothing but dubious party tricks.
Do you want evidence of God? Then look where he’s promised to be found – in the life and death and resurrection of Jesus. Don’t seek proof of God in nature, for he hasn’t promised to be found there, and God’s too good at playing hide and seek for us to find him where he doesn’t want to be found. Why look for God where he is completely hidden and ignore the place where he is shouting, ‘Yoo-hoo, I’m over here, pick me, pick me!’?
Almost all knowledge is based on trust. Which evidence do you pick? Why do you trust that evidence? Whom do you trust?

2007-07-23T04:14:00.000-07:00

Take a close look.

Children in a Northern Uganda Internally Displaced Persons Camp, looking in through the windows of a mud-brick building...

Thinking of my own kids and what these ones have been through and seen... we can't sit by and do nothing. You don't have to go to Northern Uganda...but you can do something. (see previous post as well)

I've just visited and learnt about a movement called 'stop the trafik' which aims to raise awareness of people trafficking (ie, slavery) including child soldiers, and to do something about it. I'd invite you to sign the petition if you're willing - www.stopthetraffik.org - to try to move the UN and international governments to bring pressure to bear to stop slavery in our time.

I was shocked to read that there are more slaves now in the world than were ever trafficked to the United States in history.

It might seem like it's just too big, that you can't do everything. Sometimes social justice issues are overwhelming. But just because you can't do everything doesn't mean you shouldn't do anything.

For those of you who are Christians, you might also like to check out the Micah Challenge:

www.micahchallenge.org.au

for suggestions on how we can 'Act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God.'

Faith is active in love.

Love seeks justice.

(You could say justice is love at a distance).

Uganda

2007-07-23T03:57:00.001-07:00

On the blurb it says this blog has stuff about Uganda and other important stuff...

There is a saying that once you've drunk the waters of Africa you will always return.

(perhaps that, or find a toilet, really really quickly!)

Just tonight I watched the documentary 'Invisible Children' about the child soldiers and night commuters in Northern Uganda. If you haven't seen it, it's disturbing and confronting and really worth seeing. One of the most atrocious wars in the world, and the 'world' (read The Western World) knows almost nothing about it. Check out http://www.invisiblechildren.org/ or http://www.ugandacan.org/ for more info. The plight of the children was partly what drew me to go to Northern Uganda for the first time - and to plan to go back. Liesl talked in her comment (see first post) about visiting the third world and seeing poverty and atrocious injustice, and returning to the silent complicity of a church grown inward looking and fat. The call of Jesus to be involved in bringing justice, and freedom to the captives, is sometimes all too easy to ignore. As someone said after the film tonight, 'Just because you can't do everything is no reason not to do anything.

I consider myself a person drawn by grace (the intrinsic motivation, remember?) rather than 'driven' by anything. Faith is about receiving grace. But faith can never be alone (in the words of Martin Luther). Faith is active in love; love seeks justice. Justice could be called 'love at a distance.'

What can you do? What can I do? Become aware of the situation. Let others know. Become a voice for children whose cry goes unheard. Not just in Northern Uganda. Anywhere where children have no voice. In your church. In your school. In your community. Here in Australia or overseas. Don't try to do everything. But for God's sake, don't do nothing.

When everything you think you know isn't true...

2007-07-14T03:00:00.000-07:00

There's something intriguing about a couple of different groups of people I've come into contact with recently.
Our family are homeschoolers. We have a good network of homeschoolers in our region. To be honest, I never thought I'd end up doing this! But the further into it we've gone, and as we've learned and researched through the writings of authors such as John Holt, John Taylor Gatto, and others, the more convinced we've become that the 'education system' which we've grown up with all our lives is selling a big fat lie. 'Schooling' has very little to do with 'learning.' 'Mass Education' is a lot more about convenience and social stability than about real education that sticks with you for life.
The transition to Homeschooling is a difficult one. I remember asking myself, 'What do you do when everything you think you know turns out not to be true?' In the midst of this paradigm shift, the hardest thing is 'learning to trust' - to trust that children, and anyone actually, is capable of learning. Naturally and spontaneously. Through what we've been learning, we have also gone through the paradigm shift of 'unlearning' what we thought we knew about medicine and nutrition.
The food pyramid? With all those starches? It's simply bad for most people. Modern medicine with its drugs and interventions? Similar. What happens when everything you think you know turns out not to be true?

This shift from prescribed learning to natural learning, from schooling to homeschooling or unschooling, is very similar, I believe, to the shift from religion to faith, from law to gospel.
Why do I say this? It's so tempting to think that the way to get people to learn about God and grow in God is to tell them what to think, how to behave, what to believe. To give people a set of rules to follow, to say, 'Do this, this and this, and you'll be right with God.' But that's religion. Religion has as little to do with faith in Jesus as schooling has to do with learning. Legalism - living by the law, some set of rules to make ourselves right with God - is not faith in Jesus. Moralism is not faith. Religion is not faith, and faith in Jesus is not religion. When children (or anyone) truly learn, they learn because they have intrinsic motivation. When people come from religion to the gospel of God's grace, freely given in Jesus, they move from extrinsic motivations - from the law - to intrinsic motivations - the power of the gospel at work.
Are we willing to trust? In the midst of the paradigm shift (which is perhaps the most terrifying of all) from religion to faith, are we willing to trust that the Holy Spirit will be at work, rather than trying to force the Spirit to work, trying to prescribe the Spirit's work?

This is the shift from proselytising to dialogue. This is the shift from giving answers about God to asking questions. The shift from preaching to walking the road together. The shift from fear-based to hope-based spirituality. The shift from coercion to mutual discovery.

For me, this is what Emmaus Road is all about.

2007-06-13T04:31:00.000-07:00

Nothing to do with Emmaus Road.

I like Blokus the board game. Have discovered this pattern - yellow starts then blue, red, green - which I believe is the lowest possible number of squares used in a game which is totally blocked. (FYI, yellow goes all out, of course, but only the necessary pieces are shown here for clarity).

Don't know if anyone else cares...

Emmaus Road - a story to begin with

2007-06-07T19:57:00.000-07:00

•Emmaus Road•

•Beauty•Story•Renewal•Journey•

· On the Emmaus Road, everybody is welcome and worthy.

· We seek to find the beauty God has placed within each situation.

· We listen to each other’s story with open ears and open eyes.

· As we do so, we find renewal in the sometimes-unrecognised presence of Jesus with us.

· We recognise that we are on a journey, not arrived at our destination. This means no one is perfect; the journey is as important as the destination; there will always be surprises; and Jesus joins us where we are on the road. We invite others to join us too.

What is Emmaus Road?
Emmaus Road is not a Bible study. It’s not a self-help group. It’s a journey, a place to meet with others and with Jesus. It’s a community of people who want to be involved in listening, in dialogue, in walking the journey, and in telling others – ‘We have seen Jesus. We didn’t even know it at times, but he was right there with us on the road.’

A story to begin with:

In the middle of 2006, I went on a four-week mission trip to Northern Uganda, which has been devastated by vicious civil war for twenty years. I was surprised by the signs of God’s working and his presence. A historic cessation of hostilities was signed between the government and the rebels on the day I flew into the country. Of course, I had nothing to do with that. But nothing happens by accident in God’s design. I worked with members of a local church, then with members of a team which implemented a trauma rehabilitation program for victims of the civil war – internally displaced people (or IDPs – refugees within the borders of their own country).

I had to leave the trauma rehab team in order to fly back to Australia, several days before the other team members headed home.
On my last night in the country, I was invited for dinner at the house of the only ordained Lutheran pastor in Uganda. Also present that evening were a group of young men from another church in the USA, who had come to do a three week practical mission trip in Eastern Uganda. They were also flying out the next day.
One of them was wearing a t-shirt with these words printed on it:

Emmaus Road

•Beauty•Story•Renewal•Journey•

I was intrigued and said to him, ‘What a great shirt! What does it mean?’ (I love the story of the journey on Emmaus Road in the New Testament, the gospel of Luke, chapter 24. Check it out if you want!)

He replied, ‘Emmaus Road is the name of our church. It’s a missional community in the U.S.’ I was blown away by that. Before going to Uganda (no accidents, remember?) I’d been studying house churches and missional communities. It also happened that ane of the guys on our trauma rehab team was involved in a missional community. His name was Steve. He lived 15km from where I live, on the Sunshine Coast, and I’d had to come all the way to Northern Uganda to meet him! He had encouraged me to look into starting a missional community as an alternative expression of ‘being church,’ and I was really intrigued.

Anyway, that was all pretty cool. I was mildly excited. I went off to my hotel for the night, hoping to get a good night’s rest before two days of international flights. But I woke up at 4am with a clear, vivid, unshakeable thought in my head: ‘God wants me to start an Emmaus Road in Australia. Right where I live!’
Doxycycline, which is the antimalarial medicine I was on while on the trip to Uganda, is know to have one side effect of causing vivid dreams. But this was not the doxy, I was sure of it! I madly scribbled in my journal – of how the two were walking and talking on the Emmaus Road, when they were met by Jesus – whom they didn’t even recognise – and he came along with them on the journey, engaged in conversation with them, wanted to know all about their life and their troubles, unfolded God’s plan to them from the Scriptures, and then came and ate with them. Jesus was there all the time – and they didn’t even recognise it!

So the idea of Emmaus Road was of a place, a space, a journey, an opportunity to walk and talk and dialogue together – to be involved in conversation, and hopefully to help each other recognise and celebrate the presence of the living Jesus in our lives. This idea slowly simmered away on the backburner when I got home to the busyness of life in Australia. But recently, it’s come back with overwhelming force. Now is the time. I have a dream. I believe it’s God’s dream – and I want you to test that belief out with me.

Would you be willing to walk with me on the Emmaus Road?
What things are you discussing as you walk along? Can we journey and story together?

-Nathan Hedt