What really matters.

I'm posting this story here, because it is a good reminder of the one constant truth that binds all Christians. Sometimes I feel worn down by divisions over certain issues and the fact that I feel I need to come to a decision on certain things. Jesus' death and resurrection trumps it all. I love perspective.

From Tara's note:

Taken from "Views From A Bouncy Castle" by Adrian Plass. This short story makes me smile, and wish that like children, we could be as easy to teach, correct and rebuke.

"Much more than recently, in the year when Katy became three, I strolled into the garden one sparkling April morning, to find my diminutive daughter pushing one arm up as far as it would go towards the sky. In her outstretched hand was a single bluebell, newly picked from the border beside the lawn. As she offered her flower to the shining early sun, she identified it with loud ecstasy.

"DAFFODIL!!" she shouted, "DAFFODI-I-IL!!"

I am as tediously obsessed with accuracy as most parents. I corrected her gently.

"No darling," I said. "It's a bluebell."

Not one inch did she reduce the length of her stretching arm, not one decibel did she lower her volume: "BLUEBELL!" she shouted, "BLUEBE-E-ELL!"

Katy's joy was in being part of the morning and having a beautiful flower, not in anything so trivial as being right. She accepted my pedantic correction, but it didn't change anything important.

If only those of us who are Christians wer more like Katy in the garden, less concerned with how right we are in our individual emphases and dogmas than with the joy of being one with Jesus.

"YOU HAVE TO SPEAK IN TONGUES TO BE A CHRISTIAN!" one of us might shout ecstatically.

"No, you don't," God might correct us gently.

"YOU DON'T HAVE TO SPEAK IN TONGUES TO BE A CHRISTIAN!" we would shout with undiminished joy."

I'm going to blog a lot this week.

I seem to have a complex about being comfortable.

If life is easy, something is wrong. If I don't feel like I'm making a sacrifice, if I don't feel isolated from the world somehow, if the thought of poverty doesn't make me feel a strong sense of injustice then I've got to be missing the point. Nobody likes being thought of as different or just plain weird but everytime I feel misunderstood or persecuted (using the term very loosely), it seems that I'm on the right track.

Jesus said that if anyone should come after me, he must deny himself and take his cross up daily and follow me (Luke 9:23). I don't want to create a living hell for myself but if I ever find myself simply blending into the world... I shudder to think what I might have let go of in the process.

This life wasn't meant to be easy. But it's not meant to last either. Bring it on.

Don't accept the unacceptable.

I've just read an article in the Sunday Telegraph about young Indian children who are forced into devastating manual labour in remote limestone quarries. At these quarries, children as young as 6 are mining the 'trendy' Kota limestone which has been used to pave the entire King St Wharf entertainment precinct in Sydney.

The work is backbreaking, the heat is scorching and the payment is 50 Indian rupees per day, or $1.20AUD for an eleven hour day. Despite the fact that the caste system is officially outlawed in India, all of those who work in the mines are still observed as 'untouchables', or Dalits, which literally means crushed or broken to pieces. The children who work at these mines do not have a choice because they are supporting their families and helping to pay off debts incurred by their parents.

It's very hard work - sometimes I hurt my fingers with the tools. I wish I went to a school, but instead I am here.

We travelled from across India for this work. To you this might seem cruel. But when there is no work you will see the worst forms of cruelty.

I have never heard of Australia. When they pavers leave here, I don't know where they go.

It's hard, painful work. I'll go back to school later. But for now, I help my family by working here. I don't like it, but there is no choice.

I'm about to say something that may be controversial and harsh but honestly, when have I ever cared?

Suppose that photographs of young Indian, African and Asian children were different. Imagine that typical (how it pains me that I can even refer to poverty as 'typical') landscape of poverty - we've seen it so many times. Dirty. Dusty. Dilapidated. Skeletal. Imagine those children, the ones whose eyes silently cry out to us, pleading for help, for the recognition that their lives are worth something. Then imagine this: that the children you are seeing have porcelain skin, blonde hair and blue eyes. Might society then see them as people? Might we then be moved to act? How does that image make you feel? Does it suddenly make a difference?

I'm trying to unclench my fists. Oh Lord, let me be a voice for those who have none.

For Sue.

This isn't very well thought out but I had a conversation tonight that included the topic of Fairtrade and I feel like sharing.

Basically, here are two reasons to support Fairtrade from Sian, our night church minister's wife:

1. Eating lots and lots of cheap chocolate is bad for you.
2. Stewardship! I really like this. Sian says that we are a society that just consumes and consumes and we rarely, if ever, consider where our products come from or the circumstances in which they were made. Supporting Fairtrade encourages us to think deeper about where our products come from and the effect that the production process has on the environment. It may only be a small step, but it's a start.

Also, there are some Fairtrade companies that really are passionate about giving farmers/producers a fair price such as Tribes and Nations, headed up by the Murrays, or the lovely South African lady at the Open Hand cafe in India who stocks naught but Fairtrade goods. I would rather buy products from them any day.

And also, the trickle down effect is rubbish. I remember vaguely case studies from Development Studies that examined the idea that all levels of society would benefit if the economy was given over to an entirely free market. Doesn't work. Economics takes no notice of people but simply operates on the principle of supply/demand. If you're poor, you're screwed and even more so in a free market because there are absolutely no guarantees that you will get a thing. So regulation might upset the market and throw things off balance, as you were explaining Sue, but I believe it's necessary. Because unfortunately, greedy and sinful human beings screwed up first and there needs to be intervention to provide for those who haven't a hope of providing for themselves.

So yeah, there's my rant based on minimal reading and discussion. Still supporting Fairtrade, but welcome to opposing views, as always.

I sound like Obama with all this talk of change.

Thank goodness we are on a break because I'm struggling to put any effort into anything that isn't ministry.

On Monday night over 50 people gathered at our little church in Bossley Park and every single person was a young ministry leader from the South-West of Sydney. I still can't quite believe it happened. Only God could have pulled us all together and he certainly pulled me through it because I was having kittens over every little detail. For years I have heard from Peter Lin that something needs to change in the South-West, that we need to start smashing the idea that ministry cannot survive here, that we are not strategic enough. Not to mention the fact that nobody wants to live here if they can help it, Christians included.

WELL SCREW THAT.

Hello? God is sovereign. He is in control. He is watching over His people. So why shy away from an area, as though it could be impossible for God to use you and see His saving work done? How could those before me have had so little faith? Enough. God is moving, wherever you are in Sydney, but I'm going to say that the most exciting place to be in right now is the South-West.

Finally people are starting to share this vision and I thank God for Pete. He convicted every person in the room, made the needs of the South-West more real than ever before and we're getting a response. I am full of anticipation but am laying it all at His feet. If God chooses to use this movement, He will. If this is not the means then something else will reveal itself.

No matter what, I am desperate to see God glorified here, to make the most of the opportunities he has placed before us and they are boundless. If this one generation stuck it out so much could happen, so much could change.

Who are you calling unstrategic?

Painful truth.

“I have three things I’d like to say today. First, while you were sleeping last night, 30,000 kids died of starvation or diseases related to malnutrition. Second, most of you don’t give a shit. What’s worse is that you’re more upset with the fact that I said shit than the fact that 30,000 kids died last night.”
- Tony Campolo

Purposeful existence.

Can the atheist claim to live out a purposeful existence? Is it possible to deny God, concede that the sum total of life is 'triviality for a moment and then nothing' (Bertrand Russell) and then attempt to find meaning? It seems like a hopeless contradiction that leads one right back to God. But...

Who am I to say that the atheist cannot find meaning in the life they live right now? They can laugh and love and appreciate beauty. It's all there before them and if they believe life is fleeting and this is all there is then, hell, better make the most of it. Just because the universe will cool and die eventually does not mean that this moment cannot be lived for all it's worth. What can I say in response?

Thankyou, William Lane Craig, for explaining to me the difference between a subjective and objective purpose for existence. It's an answer I've been after for a little while now.



Oh, Christopher Hitchens...

Love as it really is.

I'm preparing to do a lesson on love for my year 6/7/8 group otherwise known as SUP (six up) and I think it's going to rock their world, just quietly. Well I'm going to have fun turning their preconceived ideas on love completely upside down. I'm pretty sure that as soon as I mention the word love, the boys are going to squirm in their seats and just generally be sillier than usual. The reason? Love is for girls! It's mushy. Love? Ew!

Once again, the world has completely screwed up one of God's gifts and managed to make love selfish. I say this because it is not common for someone to love their enemy, or for it to even enter their head that they should. Love is reserved for someone who has earned it, only those you care about, as one of my girls at our lunchtime group said today. If love was dependent on how deserving the subject was... Actually I'm struggling to finish that sentence because there'd be no hope for any of us if that was the case. God loves us just because. Yet that love is so deep that he gave up his only son.

This is really blowing my mind. To love, really love, takes enormous strength. The world seems to associate love with weakness and vulnerability. To some extent that may be true, but real love simply means putting others before yourself. It requires no particular 'fuzzy' feeling, you might not even like it. But if we only loved those who loved us, how could the Christian be distinct? About a million bible verses are hitting me right now but I'm just trying to explain it all in my own words. Jesus hung on a cross, totally humiliated and hated. But he let it happen. He willingly layed down his life for his sheep and in all his amazing glory, took it back up again. His death was the ultimate example of love, love as it really is, the model that we should be following and striving for. Not the cop-out presented in chick flicks. Perhaps this is overkill but I do think that the Hollywood perception of love is quite damaging. Not only are the expectations completely unrealistic, but if all you're striving for is looks, wealth and charm you will not end up happy. It's such a pale imitation of what the heart really longs for. Because of course what the heart is really longing for is reconciliation with God. So then, why sell yourself short?

Gosh I ramble.

Found this old blog... I like it because I remember how strongly I felt. I really struggle to stick to one topic, though. I don't really know how I went from the first paragraph to the next, it doesn't seem like they're connected in anyway, but whatever.

-----------------------------------------------------------

A little part of me dies everytime I hear this song by the Pussycat Dolls called "When I Grow Up". I cannot even begin to express how much it disappoints and angers me. It's not just a song, it seems to embody, utterly and totally, everything that the masses of society want to achieve. What particularly worries me is that this song is almost directed at youth. I work at a bowling alley that regularly hosts kids parties and we happily take song requests. Well, at least superficially I graciously accept their requests but my heart sinks when 7 year old girls want to sing about kissing other girls and growing up to be narcissistic exhibitionists. This topic is nothing new, quite frequently there are newspaper articles and stories addressing the sexualisation of youth, but I can't help but add my two cents. Surely there has to be more to life than this? If you find that you need a certain pair of shoes or the right name on your handbag to feel validated then I can say, without being nasty or condescending, that I feel sorry for you.

My faith has matured incredibly over the past few months and I'm learning to let go of the vanities and aspirations that do me no favours. Just recently I read the biography of Gladys Aylward, a female missionary who left for China in the 1930s with less than $10 in her pocket but with complete trust in God. Her life was quite difficult at first; she didn't know the language or the culture but God sent amazing people her way and she soon became one of the most influential and respected women in her region. She cared for up to 100 children at a time, visited and converted even the most hardened of criminals within harsh prisons and even had the honour of speaking with monks in a Chinese lamasery. I have read a few biographies over the past few months about missionaries but Gladys' story challenged me most of all. It humbled me to the point of shame - what the hell am I worrying about material things for when the fact that I even so much as live in this country means that I am privy to luxury. It made me realise just how selfish this society is and how easy it is to be corrupted by it. Despite the dangers that Gladys faced, I envy her because she was able to trust God with absolutely everything. Amidst all this materialism and ambition its easy to make excuses and trust only within yourself. I felt I would have packed up and left for India the next day if I could have, spending the rest of my life doing nothing but telling other people about how my relationship with God fulfils me unlike anything else. Then I had to stop and think about it. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like India was perhaps an easy way out. An escape. Certainly I'd do my best to spread the message but truly, I think the need for missionaries is greater in the developed world. Nobody here wants to be told that they're a sinner, that they should submit to someone greater than them and that actually, they're not in control. India embraces all things spiritual so even if I spoke to someone who had different beliefs at least they're open to the idea of finding God. But here... I'm forever worried about the reactions of my friends to my faith and the extent of its influence over my life. The fact that it is my life. But that's another worry I'm learning to overcome. I know the majority of the world will think I'm crazy but I know what I believe in, I know the unique truth of it and I'm going to spend the rest of my life sharing it with anyone who will listen.

Right place, right time.

Connect09 is a brilliant initiative. Freddo's adaptation Love This Broken City is even better. I can't believe that it has taken us so long to make a decisive push to get out into the community. So many new ministries have started up this year and it has made Barneys in Bossley Park a really exciting place to be. From ESL classes, to Music Time for mums and bubs, market stalls, a mission week, scripture seminars, consistent evangelistic events, lunchtime groups at local high schools... God has been amazing. Our congregation has grown and is full of people who are gifted and are looking for new ways to use those gifts to glorify God. Ministry in the South West is not doomed to failure. There is so much potential here - if only others could see it.

And now another ministry initiative, possibly? A network of young leaders who are committed to ministry in our region and will meet together to pray, share, learn and encourage? It's exactly what we need and my brain is positively exploding with ideas...!

In the next ten years or so, God is going to make his name well and truly known. Awesome things are going to happen. I can just feel it.

A Martyr's Grace

Lord, I give up my own purposes and plans, all my own desires and hopes and ambitions and accept Thy will for my life. I give myself, my life, my all utterly to Thee, to be Thine forever. I hand over to Thy keeping all of my friendships; all the people whom I love are to take a second place in my heart. Fill me and seal me with Thy Holy Spirit. Work out Thy whole will in my life, at any cost, now and forever. To me to live is Christ. Amen.

Elizabeth Alden Stam wrote those words when she was 19. At the age of 28 she was martyred for her service to the Lord in Miaosheo, China in 1934.

I'm 19. Can I make the same pledge that Betty did and really mean it? I want faith like that more than anything.

Therefore I've been challenged to think about how much of myself I'm really giving to God. Can I say that he has all of me, without compromise? What, or who, do I hold onto instead of first finding fulfilment in him?

I also really like this poem by another China missionary named E. H. Hamilton. He wrote it to commemorate the martyrdom of one of his colleagues:

Afraid? Of What?
To feel the spirit's glad release?
To pass from pain to perfect peace,
The strife and strain of life to cease?
Afraid - of that?

Afraid? Of What?
Afraid to see the Savior's face,
To hear His welcome, and to trace
The glory gleam from wounds of grace?
Afraid - of that?

Afraid? Of What?
A flash, a crash, a pierced heart;
Darkness, light, O Heaven's art!
A wound of His a counterpart!
Afraid - of that?

Afraid? Of What?
To do by death what life could not -
Baptise with blood a stony plot,
Till souls shall blossom from the spot?
Afraid - of that?

Brace yourself.

At the risk of furthering Clare Werbeloff's so-called fame by blogging about it here, I have to say, I am disgusted by the situation.

Funnily enough, it's not actually her I have a problem with and she will go back to being a nobody fairly soon so I hope she thoroughly enjoys her five minutes in the spotlight.

My gripe is this: what kind of society decides that this deserves so much attention? Why are people YouTubing this, Twittering this, Facebooking this, for goodness sake I'm Blogspotting this. Why does Clare have fan pages? Why are people making t-shirts bearing the slogan 'chk chk Boom'? Is there nothing and no one else for us to be looking up to? Why is this important? Why did she have a news story on A Current Affair? (Oh, how I despise that television show) Do her nonsensical and potentially offensive comments actually rate as newsworthy?

Apparently, YES.

Why? Why? Why? What happened to us???

And don't even get me started on this rubbish with the virtual acceptance of football players and their sex scandals. 'Support Matthew Johns'. Please. So he had the guts to come forward and admit his part in a shameful act - this does not make him a hero relative to his mates. Whether it was consensual or not - something needs to be done to address the consistent shortcomings (and thats putting it nicely) of sports stars who have a lot of influence over society.

I sometimes think I was born in the wrong era. No, that's not it. It's that I am longing, longing for a new creation. So very far away from all of this.

Happiness.

Comes in the form of a brand new, hard cover NIV.

Yup.

Creeping up slowly.

I am so happy. No, again, happy isn't the right word. The right word is joyful. I have a constant and reassuring joy in my heart, the type that only a Christian has and only a fellow Christian can understand. Yes, I am joyful. But I'm also feeling isolated.

More and more it's becoming difficult to relate to those who are 'of the world' and not just 'in the world'. I can't share what's important to me, I can't explain the significance of a particular moment, I can't gush about how amazing God has been to me this week. I can't. Not to them. I have nothing to give that's of relevance to them and if I dare to explain something vaguely spiritual I have to prepare them with: "I know this will sound odd to you, but..."

My friends are now just people I hang out with. Let's see a movie. Fine. But does it go much deeper than that anymore? I'm not sure how long it will be before phone calls go from weekly, to monthly, to...

Make yourself interesting, they say. What's interesting to the world is partying and drinking and casual sex. Simple as that. My friends' recently tagged Facebook photos are of them at a different bar or club every weekend, and mine are of me at church picnics and on mission trips.

Non-Christian friends are in my life for a reason. They're probably the ones I need to be holding on to the most. But how? How?