I have a new job ...

Here's the promo for first event I had to organise ...

I am the Teachers Assistant ("TA") for Regent College's Anglican Studies Program. I got involved, not for the $10 an hour, but to work alongside people like Dr J.I. Packer and Professor Don Lewis, to learn more about the wider church heritage that I grew up in, but feel like I know little about, outside of Sydney Anglicanism.

So if you happen to be in Vancouver this week, please come along ...

Lest We Forget

My Old Testament Foundations course has me caught-up in the nation of Israel’s story as I am in the midst of reading the entire Old Testament in a 3-month window. I have been witnessing the Lord’s incredible and seemingly unforgettable acts of grace and deliverance as the Lord brings His people out of slavery in Egypt, splits the Red Sea to allow His people to escape, leads His people by a pillar of fire by night, provides for His people daily with manna from the heavens, and brings the walls of Jericho crashing down with a simple shout from His people - it’s an action-packed thriller!

But it doesn’t end there … David is chosen and brings Goliath down with a single stone. David is rescued and blessed with incredible military wins for Israel and is known as a man “who kept my commands and followed me with all his heart, doing only what was right in my eyes” (1 Kings 14:8). Solomon starts out so well too, building on his father David’s faithfulness, assumingly taking on board David’s instructions (2 Kings 2) and asking the Lord for wisdom so that he could lead Israel well. Solomon spends seven years building the Temple for the Lord to dwell in – a mighty international achievement that was not only very expensive to do, but required a huge amount of planning and resources to achieve. The result is amazing, and the Lord comes and dwells there. We then read of Solomon’s incredible achievements, his wealth and splendor and see that the Queen of Sheba comes and is astounded by Solomon’s achievements and longs to gain some of his wisdom. Through Solomon, Israel is abundantly blessed by God!

Reading the very next chapter (1 Kings 11), the unexpected twist in the story leapt out of the pages and slapped me in the face …
“As Solomon grew old, his wives turned his heart after other gods, and his heart was not fully devoted to the LORD his God, as the heart of David his father had been. He followed Ashtoreth the goddess of the Sidonians, and Molech the detestable god of the Ammonites.”

Solomon, this great man who God abundantly blessed, with all the wisdom in the world commits Israel’s sin, forgetting God and among others worshipped Molech – a ‘god’ who was associated with the detestable practice of child sacrifice. How can this be?

Solomon forgets, and a great man and nation fall a long way. The Lord instructed Israel’s Kings to not take many wives (Deut 17:17) and that marrying foreign women may lead the Israelites to worshipping foreign God’s. “Wise” Solomon forgot his father’s parting words, he forgot the law he was meant to meditate on and keep, and "discerning" Solomon forgot Israel’s history of forgetting their God.

For me, this is a humble reminder to not forget and to not be lead astray. Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount (as one of many examples) about building wise foundations, not serving both God and money, loosing body parts that cause us to stumble and the wide easy road – help us remember.

May God bless you and keep as you go about remembering the Lord’s faithfulness, and get caught up in Israel’s story – your story – of a loving God pursuing His chosen people. That’s a story you can’t turn your back on!

A Life of Extremes in a World of Stability

I am beginning to fear that maybe Jesus really did mean what he said. I am a product of comfortable American thought and theology – product of the western world’s approach to Christianity. But the problem is, the Jesus I see in scripture is quite consistent in his teaching and that teaching consistently does not line up with my self-interest.

We see this played out most clearly when Jesus is confronted by the Rich Young Ruler. While Jesus told the rich young ruler to “sell all that he had,” this wasn’t the only thing said in the story. When the rich young ruler came to Jesus, he questioned Jesus, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” This question is coming from someone who has it all. He is young, in his prime, full of vigor and life. He is rich with the house, job, and income that define his life and allow for good meals, wine, leisure. He is titled a “ruler” suggesting authority, power, respect. He has it all . . . and yet. And yet he comes to Jesus asking “what must I do to inherit eternal life.” This is not a question that comes out of satisfaction with one’s existence. It is a question that comes out of some quiet whisper, hint that there must be more than this – more than his current state of contentment.

Even at this point, Jesus does not respond with the famous and confronting “sell all that you have . . .” Instead, he tells the young man, “Obey the commandments . . .” With these words, the man’s context is further established. He is religiously educated, at least enough to know the commandments and to be aware of the basic concerns of the God of Israel. But still, the young man wants more clarification, suggesting what we later learn to be true, that he has been keeping them and it still isn’t satisfying him.

“Which ones?” the young man asks.

Jesus responds, “Do not murder (that one’s pretty easy). Do not commit adultery (more difficult, he probably thinks, but yeah, I’ve been good there). Do not give false testimony, honour your father and mother (tick and tick). Love your neighbour as yourself (Ooh, that one’s hard. But yes, I have honestly loved my neighbour as myself.)” The young man affirms that he has been faithful, “all these I have kept since my youth.” And Jesus does not challenge him on this affirmation of faithful living. The young man isn’t even a cynical, lapsed man of faith but a dedicated man who upholds the commandments and follows God’s laws, even the difficult ones! And yet, despite his devotion to God and his clear desire for God, as evident in his approaching Jesus, something is still missing.

Church attendance isn’t enough. Keeping God’s law isn’t enough. Approaching Jesus and seeking him isn’t even enough. Not to mention that money, power, and youth aren’t enough. Apparently, this young man is still hungry for more. Hopefully many of us are still hungry for more.

“One thing still you lack. Sell your possessions. Give the money to the poor. Come and follow me.”


Of course, this isn’t a call simply to a life of poverty. Anyone can take a vow of poverty and join a monastery in the Himalayas. And many have. No. This is a call to radical and transformative community. This is a call to an Acts 2:42-47 community. This is a call to living in real and uncomfortable ways with other believers. This is a call to an extreme life of self-sacrifice, and in that sacrifice, it is a call to finding a real, passionate life, filled with God’s Holy Spirit, truly alive with his grace and presence. This is a call to life redeemed. Life transformed. Life unending.

How can I say this? We must remember who Jesus was and what he was doing at the time. He was traveling all over Israel, with his friends and those committed to him, and he was preaching the Good News of God’s grace for his people and the world. We know from Luke 8 that some of those with Jesus helped support Jesus and the disciples through their own finances. We know that, while they were itinerant, they were often being invited into various homes to stay the night, share a meal. We also know that they celebrated important religious festivals together, as if they were family. This isn’t a call to poverty or homelessness. This is a call to a community where the rich young man would have to give up his self-determination and autonomy in order to be part of the larger community of Jesus’ followers. He had to give up his riches because they were what defined him. He also had to give up his riches because in Christ’s Kingdom there is neither rich nor poor, slave nor free, male and female.

A vow of poverty is merely a spiritual choice, part even of the sort of balance that the Buddha himself taught. Jesus never taught balance. He never taught an individual spiritual path. He never calls us into a personal faith. Jesus calls us to an extreme life. He calls us individually into a community of faith. He calls us to a life that he defines and directs as a part of his body, which is all who choose to follow him, all who believe and act on his call.

“Come and follow me . . .”

Who do you want to be?

As a rule, I don’t read fashion mags. The reason is simple – after a few pages I am reminded of my larger than acceptable thighs, small breasts, bad skin, outdated clothes; and a deep craving – no, lust – for only five or six beauty products, a hair cut and colour, and a few new outfits wells up in my heart leading to a state of mild depression for at least 48 hours. Despite this general rule of self-preservation, I picked up a few that were lying around work recently. The effect was, as expected, an addictive personal dissatisfaction as the simple lies were whispered up from every page. “This can be you. With a bit of work. It’s worth the cash, after all look at the results. This can be you!”

But, do I want “this” to be me?
Do I want to be defined as “the girl with the good clothes?”
The one with the great hair?
The smart chick?
The sexy one?
The one with the great clothes, great hair, great body, and smart?”
“The woman of style and culture?”

Who do I want to be?

Moving overseas to a city that belongs to neither of us opens up the opportunity to start over. We are not tied to family and friends in a certain area. We know the neighbourhoods only through hearsay and glances. We are free to choose where we live and, in choosing, we assent to being defined by the lifestyle and attitudes of that place.

Do we choose to live in the stylish area with shops close by so our environmental footprint is smaller, good coffee, parks and beautiful spots of creation to enjoy and be in, surrounded by other people who are interested in books and God, who dress well and have good jobs and express concern for the environment and poverty? While sitting in a nice café. Over good coffee.

Do we choose to live in the transitional area with the homeless, the petty dealers, no safe parks to enjoy and few to be in, with a community of other students who are concerned for the homeless and the petty dealers, who have little and minister to “the least of these?” But walk home warily at night. Petty dealers aren’t afraid to mug and pick-pocket.

Do we make the choice to allow our convictions to shape our personalities and interests, the people we walk with, the conversations we have, and the work that we do. Or do we live our dream of . . . of convenience, of style, of safety? After all, living closer to college (in the stylish area) means a shorter (and safer) commute, which will give us more time for the friends we make (who, due to where we live and the way we spend our time as a result, will be more like us and easier to be friends with).

We know only a few people. We are not tied to certain personalities, but have the chance to re-create those aspects of ourselves that are boxed in, for whatever reason. No one remembers the silly or wise things we have done. We have no history. We have the chance to choose our direction. We’ve started down a path with Regent but that is only the beginning. There are many types of people at Regent and many paths to take. Don’t you see – this is the thing, the struggle that we all face in every decision from the biggest (job, housing, partner) to the smallest (clothes, food, time).

Who do we want to be?

Who do you want to be?

The choices you make shape who you are. The direction you take determines the way people see you and how you see yourself. You can only stay different from your choices for so long – given a few weeks or months, you look like everyone else who going in your direction; you become what you have chosen.

So, how do you choose? Conviction? Comfort? Style? Sacrifice?

Who do you want to be?

We only have a limited amount of money, a limited amount of time to spend each day. We only have a limited amount to spend on earth. And, as we see so often in Jesus’ teachings, how we spend ourselves dictates who we are. Each choice in one direction is a choice opposed to another direction. The time spent catching up with friends is time not spent teaching English to an immigrant. Time spent with your mates is time not spent with a lonely elderly man.

I know, it is important to enjoy life – spend time with friends – enjoy God’s gifts. It is truly important to do these things. But too often we choose enjoyment out of habit and inertia and fail to actually find joy (happiness and contentment are much easier) in the gifts of God we say we are enjoying.

Who do you want to be?

Audrey Hepburn, while a humanitarian later in life, is immortalised by popular culture for high cheekbones, big sunnies, and Breakfast At Tiffany’s. She is an icon of glamour, style, and beauty. Mother Theresa needed a few more facials in her lifetime but she is immortalised by popular culture for charity, generosity, and the Sisters of Mercy. She is an icon of grace, love, and Christ.

Choose your icon. Choose your destiny. Choose who you want to be.

“mice in a world of elephants”

In the past months I have spent a good amount of time reading, thinking, writing, speaking and discussing the subject of Affluenza. Reconciling the disease of Affluenza with the Christian faith and God’s Word has been based largely on my own thoughts and developed through discussions with other like-minded brothers and sisters. Today, I was encouraged to re-read a few passages of Charlie Peacock’s New Way to Be Human. Charlie speaks (indirectly) about the Affluenza disease, but maybe more importantly opens people’s minds to the ‘New Way’, a kingdom that Jesus announces, which as Tom Wright says, must ”overturn all other agendas”.

Too often (I think) the church and church-goers simply highlight the problems of a fallen world, and too rarely do we (I am guilty too!) propose, show, live and invite people into a better way, Jesus’ way!
Charlie starts to do this in this book – enjoy a few passages from his chapter on Work, Money and the Kiss of God:

John Winthrop (1588-1649) defined success not as material wealth but as “the creation of a community in which genuinely ethical and spiritual life could be lived.” Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790), on the other hand, gave “classic expression to what many felt in the eighteenth century – and many have felt since – to be the most important thing about America: the chance for the individual to get ahead on his own initiative.” This became known as utilitarian individualism. The idea being that if a society will allow each person the freedom to pursue his or her own interests, the social good will automatically emerge. Utilitarian individualism (in its worst forms) saw opposition by the mid-nineteenth century. Women, clergy, poets and writers raised objections to a life lived in pursuit of material gain. People still raise objections today, but their voices are mice in a world of elephants.

One voice that is not small is the voice of Jesus. But when the Father sends the Counselor as my representative--and by the Counselor I mean the Holy Spirit--he will teach you everything and will remind you of everything I myself have told you (John 14:26).

Neither the need for money nor the need for goods and services defines work for the man or woman following in the new way … The gathered tribe of Jesus is meant to be a people who take God’s relational Word seriously. “All that we are and do as Christians is based upon the one-off unique achievement of Jesus. It is because he inaugurated the kingdom that we can live in the kingdom” (Tom Wright) … The Kingdom Jesus announced did create a new world and context, and a new world would require a new way of being human, Jesus came announcing a kingdom that must “overturn all other agendas”.

Can it really be that our work is to do good and that’s all? Yes. The simplest theology I can give is do good work and trust God to provide. This is the old way of Eden made new through Jesus. Honestly, this is just too good to be true for most followers, and so in matters of work and money, we think and behave like practical atheists. … rather than trusting God’s relational Word, we trust our own ambitions.

All God wants is people who will do their work as unto him, for his kingdom purposes, and trust him to care for what he loves. If we have a need for resources to accomplish good, he wants us to talk to him about it. If the work we want to do is really good, we can trust that he is way ahead of us. His whole re-creation project is about what is good and right. His invitation is to get in step with his goodness and rightness.

How do God’s people drift so far from the shore? Craig Gay (from Regent College) says that the drift is a result of our imaginations, “that we imagine our world in such a way that we ignore the real reality of God’s gracious presence within it.”

"the economics of enough"

Today I was encouraged to hear that Chris Cuffe, the '33-Million Dollar Man' (so dubbed when he stepped-down as CEO of Colonial First State Investments with his 100% earned [no golden hand-shake] bonus), has decided to give up his lucrative day-job at the Packer family owned Challenger Investments. Instead of spending most of his time 'making rich people richer', he'll spend it working to provide the funds to lend very small amounts of money to the World's poor, so that they have the opportunity to bring themselves, their families and even their communities out of the poverty trap.

Check out Opportunity International's Announcement plus a few interesting insights from an article that appeared in the SMH on Saturday "From record payout to payback time".

Cuffe wants to "swap success to seek relevance"

Cuffe says it was a trip to Nepal in his early 20's which opened his eyes to the suffering of the poor in the developing world. Last year, a trip through tsunami-ravaged parts of India and a visit to Opportunity International projects in the Philippines fuelled a desire to contribute more.

Asked why he didn't continue to earn a seven-figure salary and simply give it away, Cuffe quotes Opportunity International Australia founder, David Bussau, and the "economics of enough": "I wanted to work for a place. I am not driven to earn more and more and accumulate more and more.

"I want to pursue other things in life that are different, and contributing intellectually to a group like OI is what is attractive to my type A character … if I'm not busy, I'm not happy. I don't want to sit on the sidelines."

Along the same lines of helping the poorest nations in the world, I was encouraged (and challenged) to read Bono's 'sermon' to Washington's National Prayer Breakfast this week - "It’s not about charity, it’s about justice" - definitely worth a read!

Affluenza re-visited

My blog, Affluenza, prompted quite a response! Books were purchased, emails sent, comments made, conversations had - and hopefully lives changed. The SMH keeps talking about Affluenza too (they seem to have an obsession with Sydney's greed and debt), and on their blog today, I found a very interesting site about Affluenza the TV Show, put together by America's non-commercial PBS Television Network. Worth a look to see what this disease looks like in the US of A ...

Why is this meal different from other meals?

One Sunday when I was 13, I happened to be in church when communion was being served. I had never seen an evangelical communion before and was given no preparation for it, apart from the pastor in the front reading a passage from Corinthians. It was a story I had heard many times before but never seen, smelt or tasted. When he finished reading the praise team played some insipid music while the elders of the church passed around silver trays with broken matzoh crackers and shot-glasses full of grape juice. Everyone took their shard and shot of Jesus as the tray was passed. We stood and sang a final song. Then we left as we always did. This was the first time I ever took communion.

Of course, it is misleading to say that this was the first time I had experienced communion. As I reflected on the anticlimax of the event, my “first communion”, I remembered attending mass as a young child with neighbours. Communion at Our Lady of Perpetual Help was not a particularly “high” event and it wasn’t called communion. The Eucharist was the centrepiece of the service though, that toward which everything else pointed. As the church prepared, the priest would re-enact the story, holding the bread high above his head and breaking it with a resounding crack at just the right moment. Bells were rung and many people crossed themselves as the bread became the Body. Likewise, the priest would take the cup, a gold shining goblet that looked like something from a movie and hold it high above his head, declaring that Jesus blood was shed for the forgiveness of our sins. Again the bells rang as the wine became Blood. Wisps of incense wrapped around the alter and clung to the dark beams in the ceiling. People went forward, knelt, and held out their hands, waiting in the traditional posture of begging, for Christ. I didn’t understand the theological nuances of transubstantiation but I knew that the people were doing something that had to do with Jesus and his death, and I wanted to be a part of that. Years later, when I finally was, it was disappointing.

Passover is one of the most important of Jewish holidays, and the centre of that feast is the Seder dinner. On the table are three matzohs, recalling the hurried flight from Egypt to freedom, one of which is taken and broken in half before the meal beings. During the meal 4 glasses of wine are poured, symbolising freedom, deliverance, redemption, and release. Prayers are said throughout the meal and a liturgy of questions and answers recalls, for all present, the meaning of each aspect of the meal. The purpose of the Seder is to remember God’s salvation from the slavery of Egypt and the freedom he secured for his people. The Seder is a divine drama that is re-enacted every year to teach the children the story of their people and to remind God’s people of their story with him. It was while celebrating this ceremonial meal that Christ took two of these ancient symbols and invested them with new meaning.

“On the night he was betrayed, he took the bread. When he had given thanks he broke it and said, “Take, eat. This is my body, which is broken for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” The matzoh was broken, as it is at the beginning of the meal, but now it is more than our flight from slavery; it is the Passover sacrifice for us, the body of Jesus broken on the cross for us. Later the symbolism of the cup, which already signified freedom, deliverance, redemption and release, is fulfilled with the amazing and hard words, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” The freedom, deliverance, redemption, and release prefigured in the Seder cup are completed in the communion cup.

This is a sacred meal, a Divine drama being enacted to remind us, to allow us to participate in his death. It is a way in which we teach our children the mystery of faith and sustain our own. We know nothing apart from our senses and this is a sensual meal. We taste and smell the bread and wine, feel the texture of the bread and the sweet burning of the wine in our mouth; we hear the words repeated over the centuries, and we hear our own voices joining the chorus in response; we see the bread held high and torn in two, just as our Lord was raised high upon the cross and his body was torn for us, his blood running down his side; we see the gleaming cup and know the light and love it contains. This is a meal we are meant to “dress up” in, to live in regularly so that the death of Christ becomes a tangible part of our lives.

And yet, we seldom share this meal. And when we do, it seldom recalls this ancient and mysterious drama of an ancient and mysterious God who condescended and became one of us for the sole purpose of suffering for our freedom, deliverance, redemption, and release from sin and death. Through this neglect, we not only fail to “do this in remembrance of me” but we also fail to teach our children the drama and beauty of our faith. And we ourselves, those currently entrusted with carrying God’s message of redemption to the world, fail to enjoy the depth, complexity and passion of this divine drama in which we have been lovingly cast.

Despair

We should call it how it really is more often than we do - I was encouraged today when a mate did just this. That moment of honesty can be a beautiful thing - not because it’s good, but rather because life isn’t always ‘good times’, and that’s just part of the journey. Enjoy the honesty (and cheekiness) of Despair … “It's always darkest just before it goes pitch black.”

Sit Back and I’ll Tell You a Story

No matter who we are or where we are from, stories have shaped our lives – our understanding of ourselves, our culture, our dreams. Stories inspire, educate, encourage, thrill, frighten, and reassure us. Stories make us who we are.

Yet, what of the Christian story? You know the one – God creates a bunch of stuff. Satan and then people try to ruin it. God jumps in and tries to fix things by only rescuing those who understand and accept his actions. Everything else goes to Hell. Literally. At least, these are the bare bones of the story, the parts that we memorise for gospel presentations, the parts of the story that can be easily distilled into precepts that can be believed. Or rejected. But often, despite our love of the propositions and conclusions extracted from the story, we are secretly ashamed of the story. This shame is only reinforced when the world we desperately wish to speak to flatly rejects our propositions or “Truth” as narrow-minded, old-fashioned, lacking compassion, and arrogant. The thought that, since they don’t like the ‘Truth’ the story must be bad, begins to for in our subconscious. And so, while we believe that it is a true story and we know it is meant to be a “Good” story, we remain embarrassed by it.

At first glance, the idea that we are ashamed of our story may seem ridiculous; this story is, after all, what we all believe to be true. The problem is not with us, but with the world that has become such an evil place in recent years.

But do you remember the last time you were asked if you really believe good people go to hell simply because they don’t believe in Jesus? While I believe this is true, a part of me always squirms as I try to explain how this apparently terrible belief is actually compassionate and gracious. Do not misunderstand, we are not to back down from what we know to be “the truth”. But, when sharing the great story of God’s grace I am not, in any way, overwhelmed with the same excitement, passion, conviction, and enthusiasm as you will hear in me when I tell you about the latest novel, poem or film I’ve enjoyed. In fact, none of these emotions even register above the fear, nervousness, and sense of inadequacy. Perhaps even more disturbing is that these euphoric emotions seldom overtake me when talking with fellow Christians, among whom there ought to be no fear but only the shared joy of recounting a great story experience.

Imagine the last time you left a really good movie with friends. What happens as you leave the theatre? At first, everyone is exuberant, repeating their favourite parts. Then comes the critical discussion of exactly why it is so good. Later, a bit more quoting and laughter, maybe a bit of swooning. Finally, the enthusiastic review to anyone who will listen, complete with the demand that they go view the film as quickly as possible. Then, even years later, you find that you and your friends still talk about this film, still quote it, still pull it out and watch it with some regularity, still recommend it to everyone who hasn’t yet seen your “classic” film.

The Gospel does not provoke this response from most Christians. The problem must be with the story. Or, more correctly, with how we have been told and how we tell the story. For centuries some artists have been convinced of the quality of this story, have known that this divine drama is strong enough to be told and retold, painted, interpreted, danced, sung, designed, filmed. We read the story clearly in Dostoevsky, Eliot, Tolkien. We hear the story in Handel, Bach, U2. We even see it in its bloody agony in a Mel Gibson movie. And, for a moment, our hearts sore, knowing that they have glimpsed eternity.

Unfortunately, for most of us, the story has been bled for theological, practical, and historical reasons, leaving us with a pale, anaemic, impotent invalid of a tale that we hide in a darkened room like some humiliating relative. If we are going to share our great story with the world, we must first rescue it from notional distillation and find again the beauty that seizes hearts and compels the world to listen.