What is going on here?

The year is 1976 and I am boarding at Horsham so that I can attend Horsham High School. I come back to the farm at Warracknabeal for weekends and school holidays.  Horsham High is a much happier place than my previous school. 1976 is a great year and I feel secure, and supported and have a great circle of friends.

You can imagine my befuddlement and surprise when at the end of the year, the car is packed up, complete with siblings and we move to Horsham leaving my father on the farm.

What is going on here?

For years I did not, could not understand what had happened and why. My parents understandably shielded me from the slings and arrows of a very painful breakdown and then divorce. I had no idea and could not read the situation. Partly because it was hidden from me and partly because I did not have the maturity and insight of an adult.

In today’s gospel, some other people completely misread the situation. They do not understand what Jesus is on about, why he has come among them and his very radical understanding of what family is. So let’s have a look at these people.

First, the crowds show up. These pesky little blighters have been persistently gathering around Jesus from the very beginning of Mark’s gospel.

They swarm around Jesus at every turn (Mark 1:33, 37, 45; Mark 2:2, 13, 15; Mark 3:7-10.

The crowd does not speak, they express no worries, but their actions suggest they want more of Jesus. Exactly what they want is not clear, but they are not there to pass the time of day and talk about chooks, footy and the weather. They’re not even going to let Jesus and his disciples eat, so clearly there is a flurry of activity and conversation.

What is going on here?

The second group of people to show up are Jesus’ family. They intend to seize Jesus. Now the worrying begins. They should know him the best. They have been with Jesus since before his public ministry began. They have the most to lose if Jesus’  ministry provokes the wrong people; the people who have the power to crush Him. Jesus’ family want to take him away. Mark says that those family members think he is “beside himself”. They  have determined that Jesus is not in his right mind. It seems they have no other way of interpreting what he has been saying and doing since he went off to see John and undergo a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. They have drawn their own conclusions.

They don’t really know what is going on here. They think they know, but they are wrong.

The third group of people to show up are the scribes from Jerusalem. They  are eager to offer their explanation of Jesus and his power. Jesus has a demon. “He is possessed by Beelzebul!  The prince of demons.

The family and the scribes are the two people who should know Jesus best. But by failing to see what is right in front of their eyes they demonstrate that they do not know him at all. They inevitably draw wrong conclusions. Both groups lack imagination. Both groups dismiss the possibility that God is restoring his Kingdom through the simple man in the house. They write it off as a satanic deception. They show themselves devoid of hope and openly contemptuous of God’s work. They don’t ask the question ‘What is really going on here? Or maybe an even better question, “What if…?”

Instead of spending the time and energy and being open to other possibilities, they actually miss out on opportunities. God’s opportunities for them, the opportunities that he so longs to offer them, to us.

What is going on here?

Part of their problem is this. The culture of responsibility, identity, stability, and opportunity were so bound up with blood relationships that Jesus’ pronouncement of a new family which includes everyone who does God’s will, no matter how scrappy and warped the family tree might be, is abhorrent and down right wrong.  But it can also bring great joy to some and it should bring great joy to us, especially if we find ourselves estranged from our own families of origin.

Which brings me back to that overpacked station wagon heading off to Horsham. It took my father about 5 years of hard work and persistence to reestablish the relationship. It was not the same, nor should it have been. I was 22, studying at a Tertiary level, testing a vocation or rather being tested by a vocation. In the marvellous flush of engaged life.

What is going on here?

And at the end of life and at the beginning of life, at every stage, at every encounter where families are changed, not ended, where relationships are enhanced and transfigured into new dimensions and negotiate different, wonky ways of thinking and interacting.

And today at the altar when we break bread, share the peace, pour the wine… in silence, in words and in song. ‘What is going on here’ and ‘What if…?’

June 2nd, 2024

A pack of ‘undesirables’.

Today’s gospel begins in an idyllic rural setting. The sun is shining, the birds are tweeting, and the corn is standing tall and gently swaying in the breeze. Dark clouds are a distant memory. It’s a sabbath day so there is no activity, no hurlby burly, all is calm and well. Think Of Snow White and the seven dwarfs when the creatures join in the singing. A scene of innocence and wholesomeness. Or the opening scene of Oklahoma. The world is as it should be. It’s all going so very well.

Jesus has even been chattering about wine and wineskins. There’s no hint of the argy bargy that is about to follow.

Now read on.

On this serene Sabbath Jesus and his mates are strolling through the grain fields helping themselves to some of the corn from Farmer Ishmael's bumper crop. Enter stage right a mob of angry Pharisees. Why is their blood pressure so high and their voices so loud?

It’s not walking through cornfields on the Sabbath that upsets the religious authorities about Jesus and his cronies. It’s not that they have helped themselves to farmer Ishmael’s corn. What really gets up their goat is the fact that Jesus and his good Jewish disciples have plucked the corn … the … Sabbath. Picking corn counts as work, so it’s forbidden; but what is even worse than that, is Jesus reinterpreting the law. ‘The Sabbath was made for human beings’, he points out: ‘Not the other way round’.

Everyone should have one day of rest per week to remind us that God is the centre of life rather than ourselves. Actually… we aren’t indispensable. Workaholism is not the same as holiness- and yes, I’m preaching to myself here, too. Clergy are innovative at persuading themselves that they are indispensable and that the way to heaven is to show that your diary is overflowing with reminders and appointments. The technological age did not give us more time at all to be with family and friends. It seduced us. It lied! We find that the addiction to the screen and the need to fill up blank pages in the diary is its own form of insidious slavery. We are not better at keeping the Sabbath at all. The sabbath was made as a gift to us and for us. Why are we so quick to shun it? Why can’t we reach out and grab it and run with it? Relish and revel in it. We would come back so much more insightful, so much more energised, so much more fruitful and attractive to those we seek to serve. Sadly to our detriment and those around us, we are less than we ought to be because we have less to offer them. We are unable to give them what they rightly need and so richly deserve.

The Pharisees, those on the inner, rebuke Jesus and his disciples and ask why this pack of undesirables aren’t keeping the Sabbath.

The  Holy Clerics see only one thing. That the Sabbath is being broken. They do not see the hunger or the need of the disciples. Further, the Pharisees miss out on the likely truth that these blokes in the cornfields might have something quite lovely and important to offer them.

And of course, there is a lesson here for any of us who has ever considered ourselves to be on the inner. To see past what is outwardly going on and to recognise the needs of our brothers and sisters. Not what is happening but why this is happening and having ascertained our brothers and sisters need to go and do something about it. And if we are very brave we might see WHO it is, that stands among us. The one who is hungry for our love and has so much to offer to us.

“A pack of undesirables.” Vagabonds, misfits and scoundrels. Marching in on our territory. Stomping all over what we have worked so hard to establish and grow and flourish and on the Sabbath let me tell you! No respect, no understanding, no comprehension of our sabbath, our ways and they clearly have no desire to fit in. They should never have come here. There is no place for them. They should just move on.

In God’s eyes, everyone is desirable. None are undesirable. All are infinitely precious to Him, no matter how they dress, what their tax bracket, their family status or the colour of the skin from which they emerged from the womb. It matters not if they are one of 6 kids under 10 or an only child from a private school. They are desirable no matter the dialect on their tongue or the faith culture they happen to have grown up in.

Like those ‘undesirable,'  hungry disciples, it is those in greatest need who walk closest to God. It is those who stomp all over our sense of what we think is right and proper who actually have the most to teach us.

Would God smite us terribly if we spent more time keeping the sabbath and mucking about in the cornfields with the ‘undesirables’? Well hey, there’s only one way to find out.

“People of accomplishment rarely sat back and let things happen to them. They went out and happened to things.” Leonardo da Vinci 1452.

This explains a lot about why Leonardo is still being talked about, why we still look up to him and why exhibitions and his drawings can be admired and gawped at. The process of going out and happening to things ie. Being proactive is not altogether easy.

First, you have to see the ‘something’. Glimpse an opportunity, perceive a need, understand that something is not right, or could be improved upon.

Then you have to think through what is needed to make the thing happen or to be remodelled. All this without allowing apathy and procrastination to wash over and seduce you. Apathy and procrastination are very seductive.

Then you have to summon the wherewithal, actually, go and do it and maintain the energy and verve through to its completion. Whew!

But there is something else that is necessary to be a ‘Leonardo’ and to happen to things. A vital part is realising and admitting that sometimes, maybe often, you were wrong. That the problem is insurmountable, or the way you were tackling was not the best or most fruitful way.

The ability to make this admission is a very precious commodity and perhaps is the most important skill of all.

About one of his inventions, Leonardo wrote something like: ‘If the results are not as anticipated and the outcome is flawed then the concept should be disregarded swiftly and permanently.’ All of the above is not an easy checklist. There are few public, high-profile ‘Leonardos’.

But my guess is that there are many ‘Leonardos’ “happening to things’; quietly, selflessly, unobtrusively, but nevertheless effectively. We could always use more of them. Go out and happen to things.

Of first-world responsibilities.

In another place, I made the point that we have first-world luxuries like peace, the internet and motor vehicles.

It has occurred to me since that we also have first-world responsibilities.

There is a responsibility to ourselves. We have this amazing thing called a body which needs feeding, cleansing and exercising. Like a car, there are also times when it needs taking off the road and servicing. This is called annual leave, family leave, long service leave, and a pyjama day. ‘Go gently’ is a favourite mantra of a colleague of mine. I know he’s right, but it's a difficult thing to accomplish. We feel as though we should be filling up our empty spaces to show how effective dazzling and spectacular we are. How indispensable we must be when our diaries are stuffed full of busyness. The reality is that we would be much more effective and productive if we just did nothing for a couple of hours and let our thoughts and quandaries slush around for a bit. Like the best jobs, the right answers often find us rather than us finding them.

We also have a first-world responsibility to everyone else, especially those who are less fortunate than ourselves. I consider the fact that I have never gone hungry an undeserved privilege. I have always had a roof over my head and I have always had a circle of people who have cared about me and shown that care especially when I needed it most. These gifts show me the responsibilities I have to those who have none of these things. Maybe if we all took a deep breath and looked again at our first-world responsibilities, more people would enjoy the first-world luxuries we take for granted.

The story of the burning coal.

The first reading today is an absolute corker and as always there are at least two ways of looking at it.

First, there is the literal sense of the passage—what the words mean in their original, historical context—Isaiah’s encounter with the Living God.

The second way is to look at it through the lens of our worship. The reading speaks of the transformation that takes place in us when we receive the Lord Jesus in the Eucharist.

So, … first level. The historical call of Isaiah.

The setting is the Temple of Jerusalem in 740 B.C., the year that King Uzziah of Judah died. Our friend Isaiah finds himself in the house of worship and is granted a vision of the Lord, exalted and enthroned in majesty. He witnesses winged angels, called seraphim, calling out to one another: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts”. Sound familiar? The volume is turned up so loud that it shakes the sanctuary to its foundations. Understandably Isaiah is overwhelmed by this awesome display of God’s glory and his heart is fear… full. “Woe is me!” he cries, “I am lost . . . I am a man of unclean lips”.

Because Isaiah has been so frank about his grubbiness one of the seraphim takes “a burning coal”  from the fires of the Temple altar and proceeds to touch Isaiah’s mouth with the glowing ember. “Behold,” says the seraphim. “This has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin is forgiven” And then Isaiah’s fear melts away. The Lord asks whom he can send as a prophet to his people, and Isaiah steps forward with the unflinching response: “Here I am! Send me”. So it is that Isaiah is commissioned as a prophet and equipped to speak the word of the Lord. It’s a marvellous image for someone like me who is blessed with a vivid imagination.

But what does any of this have to do with what we are doing here today? So we come to the second level. The symbolic level.

Remember that at Pentecost we spent a bit of time thinking about the Holy Spirit as a flame?

Further, I want to use some words from a couple of gentlemen who lived a long time ago and kindly did my homework for me.

First, St. Cyril of Alexandria, who died about A.D. 444.

“One of the seraphim is sent to Isaiah with a burning coal which he took from the altar with tongs. I see this coal as a symbol of Christ. Remember God appeared in this way to the people of Israel as they stood before the Lord at Mount Sinai as flames and smoke.” 

Secondly, a gentleman known as St. John of Damascus wrote this about receiving Communion.

“Let us receive the body of the Crucified One. With eyes, lips, and faces turned toward it, let us receive the divine burning coal, so that the fire of the coal may be added to the desire within us to consume our sins and enlighten our hearts, and so that by this communion of the divine fire we may be set afire and deified.” (ie Made Holy)

These guys write in an esoteric way, but their point is just as important as ever. We live in a society that seems to have cast aside the potency of the symbol; an age where we have to understand everything in facts and numbers. We have become reluctant to dive into the symbol and let it wash over us, allowing the experience to heal us and to simply just enjoy the symbol for its own deliciousness.

The encounter with our burning coal we call communion does three things.

First, Holy Communion is a purifying encounter with the Lord. Receiving Him on our lips has the effect of burning away our sins.

Secondly, the fire that touches Isaiah’s mouth shows us that Holy Communion is a deifying encounter with the Lord. That is, it helps us to become more like God.

Finally, Holy Communion is a commissioning encounter with the Lord. In other words, when we receive the sacramental coal from the Lord’s altar, we are equipped to bring the gospel to the world.

That, after all, is what the Eucharist is all about. It cleanses us and sanctifies us for a purpose—to go forth as witnesses to the living Word of God. Many Christians call what we are doing here today a Mass because the last thing that happens is commissioning or sending forth. Go in peace to love and serve the Lord. We are dismissed

A couple of things to finish with.

First, you might like to think of Isaiah in a little while when with archangels and archangels we will also say “Holy Holy Holy Lord. Heaven and earth are full of your glory.”

Secondly… notice that the party of redemption can only begin when Isaiah confesses his unworthiness. Oddly, God’s work in us and the world can only start when we are honest with ourselves and with God. Then and only then, the coal of God’s love finds us, touches us, seals us and we are sent out to bring the living flame of faith to a darkened and chilly world.

May 19th Pentecost 2024.
Guard the Holy fire.

There is something mysterious, alluring and powerful about fire. There is something quite charming about staring into some flames in an open fireplace, but in rural Australia, we also understand how fickle and brutal fire can be. We are somehow both attracted to and in fear of flames.

Fire is no stranger to us and has been around for a very long time; in fact as far back as Moses and the Old Testament

When the Israelites had finally escaped the dastardly clutches of Pharaoh and were without GPS or compass….

(Exodus 13:21)

“The Lord went in front of them in a pillar of cloud by day, to lead them along the way, and in a pillar of fire by night, to give them light, so that they might travel by day and by night.”

Then when they get to Mount Sinai the light show and special effects are even more spectacular

Exodus 19:18

“Now Mount Sinai was wrapped in smoke because the Lord had descended upon it in fire; the smoke went up like the smoke of a kiln, while the whole mountain shook violently”. Marvellous Stuff!

And in today’s first lesson, there’s even more fire.

“When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them.”

This is why, as a ‘descendant’ of those apostles a bishop wears a funny flame-like hat called a mitre. I hope you will be able to see Bishop Garry wearing his mitre in a photo in the pew sheet today.

And here in church, we have candles and at Christchurch Hamilton has an opportunity to light some personal candles.

All of us would be familiar with and entranced by the eternal flame that burns at the tomb of the unknown soldier. It speaks to us. Engages us. When we look at the eternal flame there is something deep within us that we understand and also resounds within us. It is more than just an echo of a history that is the tragic slaughter of the past. Somehow it  is also  part of who we are as a nation, as individuals and as a community. The flame continues to burn to remind us that love did not die on the battlefield.

But most potently and personally there is the flame of faith which is kindled somewhere, somehow deep within us. Sometimes it flares up brightly and gives light and warmth.

Sometimes it sputters and can even go out.

But the flame of His love cannot be extinguished because that is who He IS. His love is not just something He does. It is Him. It can never die and perhaps it is in those moments when our faith seems spluttery and futile and cannot be ignited, that HE will burn brightest. He will take our arm and walk with us through the black caverns of despair and doubt which are large and frightening .

Remember this…”And even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil for you are with me.”

Guard the holy fire that is within you and all of us. If you see someone else’s candle going out, it takes a heartbeat to go and give some of your flame to theirs. You'll discover that your faith is actually brighter and more radiant because of this

One of the gifts of the Holy Spirit is fear. Fear means respect and awe, and also a healthy fear of doing anything that would harm our relationship with God. Guard the holy fire.

The best analogy I can think of is that exhilarating time in our lives when we first discover a relationship so precious, so exciting, so gorgeous that we will do anything to preserve and protect it. The first flush of romantic love. It is like holding onto a precious crystal vase that you treat with reverence, joy and respect. You rejoice in it and are thrilled just by looking at it. And you look at it often. You look at it a lot just because… it makes your heart go faster and you look at it just because you can. You guard it. You would lie down in front of a Big Mac truck to protect it.

How precious and treasured it was and is. How fiercely and carefully you want to guard and keep it as well as celebrate and enjoy it.

Guard the holy Fire. Your fire which is His fire.

Charles Wesley sums up this protective joy, the vocation to guard the Holy fire, in his sublime hymn ‘O thou who camest from Above.’ With a yelp of joy I hand it over to Him to articulate what I have clumsily been trying to say.

O thou who camest from above
the fire celestial to impart,
kindle a flame of sacred love
on the mean altar of my heart!

There let it for thy glory burn
with inextinguishable blaze,
and trembling to its source return
in humble prayer and fervent praise.

Jesus, confirm my heart’s desire
to work, and speak, and think for thee;
still let me guard the holy fire,
and still stir up the gift in me.

Ready for all thy perfect will,
my acts of faith and love repeat;
till death thy endless mercies seal,
and make the sacrifice complete.

Praise to the God who disturbs us.

May 12th 2024.

Today I want to try to unpack the story of the election of Matthias in the second reading.

Here’s what we know.

Peter stands up in front of about a hundred and twenty folk and gives a little speech. He lets them know that there is going to be an election to replace Judas.

“Brothers and sisters, the Scripture had to be fulfilled in which the Holy Spirit spoke long ago through David concerning Judas, who served as a guide for those who arrested Jesus. He was one of our number and shared in our ministry.

 Therefore it is necessary to choose one of the men who have been with us the whole time the Lord Jesus was living among us, beginning from John’s baptism to the time when Jesus was taken up from us. For one of these must become a witness with us of his resurrection.”

Two nominations were received. 1. Joseph called Barsabbas (also known as Justus) and 2. Matthias. known as …. well … just … Matthias.

Now … Did these gentlemen know that they were going to be nominated? Were they lobbied over a long leisurely lunch of fish, wine, lamb and olives?

Did they have any idea that this very day God was going to disturb them?

A suitable prayer is then offered which is good, right, healthy and essential.

“Lord, you know everyone’s heart. Show us which of these two you have chosen to take over this apostolic ministry, which Judas left to go where he belongs.”

Notice please they are not saying exactly where it is that Judas has gone … Judas is now God’s problem just as surely as you and I will one day be God’s problem. Are God’s problem.

Then they cast lots.

This was a familiar practice for the Jews because it was the way priests were chosen for service in the temple. The 800-1000 priests who were assembled at a given time for a week’s service in the Temple all wrote their name on rocks and the rocks were put into a big container and shaken until one came out. The name on the rock would be the one chosen to preside over the morning or evening sacrifice or serve at the altar of incense. In this case, they put the names Matthias and Joseph also called Barsabbas (Son of the Sabbath) or Justus (the Just One) on rocks and shook them out and the lot fell to Matthias and he was constituted among the apostles. Here is something important for us to grasp. God doesn’t always choose the people who would seem most likely. Just as no one would have predicted that among the apostles there would be, fishermen, tax collectors and relative nobodies, so here if it were a decision solely of men rather than of God then Matthias would not have been chosen above someone who had already earned two nicknames because of the way he lived the faith.

He had the nickname Son of the Sabbath and also the Just One. This was an outstanding candidate who had great credentials. But God’s ways are not our ways.

Something else that is important.

Matthias was not somehow better than Joseph. God did not somehow love Matthias more than Joseph. It’s just that God wanted Matthias for this specific role.

Which has implications for us in 2024.

It’s not that we’re better than others, or more loved by God than others. We were allotted to become more aware of that love of God — “Just as the Father loves me,” Jesus says today, “so I love you” — and to have the chance to live it through Christ’s Mystical Body. But with that gift comes a task: you and I are called to pass on the knowledge of that treasure. Just like God chose the Jews as the people to receive his revelation so that one day that light could be brought to all nations, so God has allotted each of us to receive the gift of Himself, his words, and his presence, so that we may bring these marvellous gifts to others and others to God. Our names have been written on him who is the “stone rejected by the builders who has become the cornerstone.” Our names have been written on the rock on whom Jesus built his Church and are united in communion with Peter and his successors our bishops.

Likewise, we need to be people who are able not just to tell people he is alive, but to show people he is alive.

Something else to think about: those two gentlemen were disturbed by God that day. Things changed for them. I wonder if Justus went home bitter, angry and disappointed and I wonder if Matthias wondered what on earth he had done allowing his name to go forward.

Whatever the coming days and weeks brought for these two chaps, God had disturbed, tousled and ruffled them.

And I suspect he continues to agitate, interrupt and disturb us. Rarely through the spectacular and the life-changing, but always in the mundane and the tedious.

We give thanks for this almost imperceptible continuous activity that troubles and annoys us. Praise to the God who disturbs us.

“Fix your course to a star and you can navigate through any storm”

Leonardo da Vinci 1452.

Jeanine and I were privileged to attend the LUME in Melbourne where there was an immersive experience featuring the works and inventions of Leonardo Da Vinci. Not only did he paint, he also invented and thought deeply about a lot of important things. Part of this exhibition was some of his more insightful and profound sayings. I intend to use some of them in this forum. One of them I found particularly helpful.

“Fix your course to a star and you can navigate through any storm”.

We all need some standard to measure ourselves against. Some places, some aspirations, and some ideals to reach for. Clarify your purpose and values and align them with your goals and strategies.

We live in a very turbulent ever-changing almost washing machine-tumbling society and world. We can so easily be tossed about and emerge battered, confused and bewildered. There are so many competing demands and philosophies out there, that it would be very easy to select a different one each day to suit our whim of the moment. This would of course see us sloshed about with no direction or hope of arriving anywhere or accomplishing anything.

A star is a good metaphor because you never actually physically reach it. You are always striving, always looking beyond yourself; always there is more to try for.

So for your reflection, you might like to ask what are the ‘stars’ that you strive for? Who taught you these principles? You likely acquired them almost by osmosis from a significant elder in your life. Maybe a parent or a teacher.

Have these ‘stars’ been helpful or have you found others along the way and what are your storms?

May 5th … You did not  choose me… but…

One of the many security tests Jeanine and I encountered on our trip to the States was that we had our fingerprints taken, both going in and leaving the country.

We were tired, jet-lagged, bemused and fraught by it all, but we were not going to argue with the really big guys with the really big shiny badges and the really big guns. Oh no sireee! We swiftly did as we were told and looked forward to that moment when we made our way to the luggage carousel, then to Jacky and David, then to a taxi and then to a shower.

I offer this little memory because it should remind us that each and every one of us is completely unique. No two people have exactly the same fingerprints. No one has exactly the same set of fingerprints as you and some really clever people could probably use other body bits and pieces to make the same scientifically provable fact. It is also true that no one else has exactly the same set of memories and combinations of perceptions as you. You are marvellously unique and that is a wonderful and exciting reality to try and hold onto and get your head around … if you can.

That's the good news.

The flip side of this glorious truth is God knows your blueprint. He designed it specifically and he knows your every wrinkle, your every gift, your every flaw, and he knows exactly what you are really, really good at and what you enjoy.

This means that he will specifically choose you, has specifically chosen you for this particular point in history in this particular place to do some particular work.

Hence the haunting line “You did not choose me … but I chose you” from the gospel today.

Clergy I am first to admit, are particularly good at kidding themselves that God has chosen them to do fantastic wonderful whizz bang sparkly things and to go to the plum parish St. Swithens in the bog.

If only they knew.

God always takes the initiative, God always does the calling and sometimes we discover to our dismay that it is not altogether to our liking.

I could point you to any number of your favourite biblical characters who found themselves called by God to a position that they did not want, or like, or ask for.

Consider the Blessed Virgin Mary who did not send a welcome email to the Archangel Gabrielle to apply for the job.

Or Joseph who had to spend some time in Pharaoh's prison wrongly accused of an improper relationship with Pharaoh's wife. Or Moses, or the disciples.. and you can probably think of lots of others.

But what about a modern-day 21st-century example?

Glad you asked.

Bishop John Stewart was Bishop of the Eastern Region of Melbourne. One of his roles was to attract vital, young, intelligent, witty, geeky, holy clergy to the Eastern parishes of Melbourne. Not an altogether easy role but there you have it.

Perhaps as a sweetener to this role or perhaps to raise his blood pressure even further, Bishop John was given the role of administrator of the diocese. Ah, now here is a better gig. You simply step into the Archbishop's role whilst he’s on holiday or in Lambeth or whatever it is that Archbishops do when they are not in the office and, maybe flex a bit of muscle, send out for pizza for the office staff and anything too thorny you say ‘Thats an archbishop's decision and you’ll have to wait until they return from the Bahamas.’

Bishop John was doing a fine job as administrator in October 1989 when Archbishop David Penman was on leave. All was going swimmingly well when Archbishop David died just as arrangements were being made for a heart transplant.

All of sudden Bishop John is ‘It’. For an unknown period of time he’s now Number One and all of a sudden the job isn’t so much fun any more. You can’t just go down to the local supermarket and see which Archbishop is on special this week. This process takes time and no one knew it better than Bishop John.

Bishop Johns's fervent prayer as he entered the office each day was a simple and profound prayer and one that I am tempted to offer from time to time.

“Dear God, please don’t let anything happen today.”

It was years later that I got to know Him better. He and his Janine had a holiday house to the north of St. John’s Soldiers Hill and whenever he was there for the weekend he would graciously come and preach for me. A different flavour, a different voice and fresh sparkling insight. He was a treasure and would take me out to ridiculously long lunches and enlighten me with hysterical tales of recalcitrant clergy the names of which for some reason I cannot now remember. We were just what each of us needed at that point in time, in that place, each with our own particular talent for chattering and listening. Bishop John needed to savour his stories and reminisce. I needed to learn what not to do… again! Each of us, with our own frailties and foibles.

I’m typing this within 24 hours of learning of his death. The fruit of his conversations are made all the more likeable because of the fruit of the vine is still abiding and still lasts and will continue to abide, until I see Him again.

You did not choose me … no I chose you and commanded you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last.

What / Who am I doing this for?

We gathered at Melville Oval Hamilton. It was a drizzly, chilly morning and there were hundreds with me. There is a single light on the statue and far too many crosses on the lawn.

It was cold, bleak and depressing. I had left the comfort of a warm bed and a scalding shower. It was easy to slip into the question… What am I doing this for? Despite the countless ghost-like figures in the early morning gloom, I was in a solitary place.

The thought that rescued me from my self-pity was this. It must have been so much worse for those who first landed on the shores with bullets slaughtering the friend next to them. I did not have fear coursing through my veins. I knew that I would be going back to a warm home, a cup of rich espresso and a day of work that I relish. But these youth who could easily have been my son or daughter… What were they thinking? Did they ask the same question? What am I doing this for?

A better question would be WHO am I doing this for? The brutal, inescapable truth is that those teenagers did it for me. The answer to my question is… I am doing it for them.

We have never met. They lived and died decades earlier. They are but names on a monument to me. But they were real people with hopes, dreams, aspirations, laughter, tears and joy. Real bullets tearing through real flesh. Real breath, real bones, real death.

They did it for us. I did it for them and will continue to do so until that day when He who taught us that all life is sacred gathers us into His loving arms and we finally live in peace.

Wicked Little Letters

I went to see this film the other day. I should probably start with the health warning that some of the letters were technicolour in their content. That’s the next level above colourful.

The film starred some well-known folk like Olivia Colman, Edith Swan, Jessie Buckley and Rose Gooding.

The film was based upon a true court case in the 1920s and without giving too much of the plot away, several wicked little letters were posted around Littlehampton in England. The letters are crude, insulting, clever and demeaning. Fingers are pointed at who the author might be and.. well… the plot unfolds with a quirky bounce. It’s a jolly good romp. The good guys come out trumps whilst the right person/author is caught out and given their just deserts.

Aside from just being good fun, I was reminded again about the potency of the written word. The responsibility of those whose written words are read by many people is significant. Once written, whether on paper or a screen, they cannot be retrieved. You can’t pretend that you somehow didn’t write them. In this electronic age, it’s even more salutary because your words can be speedily sent on to countless numbers of people in the time it takes to click a computer mouse. I don’t think that there is such a thing as an anonymous email these days. That’s why we rightly employ clever, wise people in this burgeoning industry called Cybercrime.

The lesson for all those who stroke the keyboard, and especially myself is ‘Be careful.’ Read and re-read, your words before they are sent off into the cyber cosmos. Our wicked little letters are more easily found out in the 2020s than they would have been in the 1920s.