What is it about that movie?

There are not many movies that pull me back to the cinema for a second viewing. Mostly, I am content to wait for the release of the DVD. But, I must say, after seeing "The Greatest Showman" twice at the cinema, I could easily go a third, perhaps even a fourth. Now, I realise that musicals are not everyone's cup of tea and I may be just a little obsessed, however, there is something about this story and its accompanying songs that has me hooked.

I was listening to the soundtrack, for the umpteenth time, in the car today and it dawned on me. Almost every song recognises the paradox in life. "I am brave, I am bruised" are held together in the same breath, while the song "Tightrope" acknowledges that the path ahead may be right or wrong, an adventure or a fall. The great love scene during "Rewrite the Stars" doesn't just say "All I want is to fly with you" but also, "All I want is to fall with you". The struggles are held closely with the joys, the tears with the laughter. Perhaps more explicitly in the story, the poor and the rich, the acceptable and shunned, the black and the white struggle to exist together.

This reminded me of a discussion I was part of recently, reflecting on the life of the mystic. We spoke about how in a world of duality, the mystic manages to live within the paradox and find a third way. Is there nothing we need more in our world right now? Liberal vs conservative, east vs west, male vs female, good vs evil, right vs wrong; we manage to split into factions over almost any issue. The mystic seems to find a way to hold both in tension while moving through and amongst in a third way. It is certainly not a popular way that gains you any friends.

In fear of appearing to read too much into "The Greatest Showman" and naively accept the portrayal by Hugh Jackman, I wonder if the character of P. T. Barnum (in the movie) was a "third way" man. He bridged the worlds of the acceptable and those hidden away. He moved between the worlds of the rich and the poor. He empowered people who had no voice and encouraged relations with people from different cultures and backgrounds. No, he was not perfect, but had a vision of how life could be and invited others to join him. In doing so, people found their true self and were liberated from whatever held them back. Sound familiar?

And so I wonder if my own fascination, and perhaps that of many others across the world also, with "The Greatest Showman" comes from our deep need. That is, the need to be valued as we are, not as the world would have us. And the need for some sense of peace and hope in a world that would have us all believe in "us and them". Maybe we all have a deep hope that a Hugh Jackman might strut into our lives and help us come alive or a Zac Efron might step into our circus and help us rewrite the stars.

Blue Christmas and Aleppo

For the last five years, about a week before Christmas, I have conducted a Blue Christmas Service in my congregations. Almost every year, I question my sanity. Why do I put myself under pressure by adding another two events to my calendar? But I go ahead anyway, as a dim, glimmer of a memory reminds me this is important. And here is why.

Christmas is a time of "Joy! Joy! Joy!" If you don't get into the Christmas spirit you are frowned upon and, perhaps, guilted into wrapping some tinsel around your front door handle. But the reality is, not everyone is full of joy at Christmas time. Some have lost loved ones during the year, and the season only highlights the emptiness and the loss. Some have struggled financially, and the barrage of advertising only serves as a reminder of the "haves" and the "have nots". Some are living in pain or with illness and the isolation is even more real as families and friends gather together. Some are far away from loved ones, by choice or not. Broken relationships and the ease of travel often leave empty chairs at Christmas dinners. And all of this is before we start to look at the state of our world.

Our Blue Christmas service doesn't fix any of this, but it acknowledges the reality of life. It gives people an opportunity to stop, reflect, cry if they need to and know that it is ok to have feelings other than joy at Christmas time. We remember that the first Christmas story was not as beautiful as we tend to make it. It was a time of great turmoil and unease. We romanticise the stable, but it was probably an extremely unpleasant place to bring a child into the world. At Christmas we remember the coming of Jesus into this world, a man who stood beside the oppressed, the outcasts and the poor.

Our Blue Christmas services never attract crowds, but there is always someone; the woman who had battled breast cancer all year, the man who lost his mother, the woman battling depression and lingering ghosts from the past. Sometimes an unknown face will sneak in the back, shed many tears and leave quietly and anonymously. I may never know that person's need or how their Christmas will be. It's not so much about the words said, the songs listened to or the candles lit. It is more about a safe space created for people to be.

And so, what was going through my heart during this year's services? I thought of a dearly loved congregation member who died during the year. I brought to mind the families of those I have conducted funerals for in 2016. I thought of friends who have lost a young child this year. I wonder about people for whom we have provided food and shelter this year.

But the depth of my heart's cry was for Aleppo. I cannot comprehend what it is like to run for your life. I cannot begin to imagine the horror of seeing loved ones killed in front of me. I don't understand the despair, the nightmare it must be to feel forgotten by much of the world. I feel completely helpless. The enormity of the trauma and destruction is overwhelming. The easiest response is often denial. But I cannot ignore the pictures, the stories and the messages.

At the Blue Christmas service, we invite people to take a blue bauble or a star to hang on their tree or give to someone as a gift. I took a star for Aleppo. As the story goes, a bright star shone in that part of the world 2000 years ago. It was a guiding light, bringing hope to many. My Aleppo star is a constant prayer of hope for a people who have nothing left this Christmas time.

What's the point?

This is a question that often arises when hope seems thin. When energy runs low and we wonder about how wisely we are spending each hour we search for results and indicators of success. This is no different in ministry. At times there are so many demands on our time that some activities do not seem like good stewardship. It is at times like these that I need to remember that we do not always see the fruits of our labour.

Today, I had a beautiful conversation with a man at Tea Chat in Augusta. Carers and the elderly from around town come to have morning tea in our church every Thursday. I spend my morning making cups of tea and coffee and sitting chatting to people. Most of the time the conversations are around the weather, families or something that has happened in town. Occasionally, the words cut straight through the layers to some deeper level. This happened today.




I sat down next to this gentleman and straight away he told me there was something he wanted to tell me. "I feel very comfortable in this building", he said. "I feel comfortable talking to you even though you are a minister." He proceeded to explain how his ability to feel calm and peaceful in a church setting again had seen him attend the Catholic church last Sunday after 30 years away.

I asked him how he found it. It was like coming home. It felt good. At this point, I could have turned bitter that he had not chosen to come to our church. Instead my heart felt warmed. I had never dreamt that providing tea and scones would lead to someone returning to their faith tradition after so many years. It was never about gaining people for our church, but about relationship that leads to wholeness.

What's the point? Maybe we will never know. We can only plant seeds in faith.

Apocaholics and Seeing Beauty

One of the speakers that I have enjoyed learning from here at the Common Dreams Conference is Bruce Sanguin. Before arriving, I had heard of Sanguin but never read any of his material. During tonight's public lecture he encouraged us with some recommendations for moving into the future. He listed and explained ten different points, but a few of them,for me, were centred around a similar theme.

I learnt a new term during the explanation- apocaholic. This describes a person who is obsessed with what is wrong in the world. They see no goodness or beauty around them, only doom and gloom. They see oppression, injustice, pain and suffering almost exclusively. Sanguin encouraged us to open our eyes to the goodness, the beauty and the love that surrounds us. We need to be aware and ready to see. We need to offer hope and tell the stories of beauty from our own life experience.

I found it very easy to see the beauty in life today. I was fortunate to be able to catch up with an "old" friend from my days in Tonga. We shared lunch together and I got to meet her husband and their six day old baby. Memories of a beautiful country and a people, familiar smiles and the hope and potential bundled into a new born all lifted my heart and warmed my spirit. For a few hours, any despair I may have felt about the situation in Syria, the plight of asylum seekers, the decline of the church or anything else were put aside as I bathed in the goodness of being in the present moment. 

And tonight, on returning to our apartment we watched the last quarter of the AFL preliminary final. This may not seem such a big deal, but I am not a footy person usually. For those of you unaware, the Fremantle Dockers were playing Sydney Swans for a place in the grand final next week. Fremantle won convincingly! But what came next filled me with hope as I watched the beauty and goodness unfold. The crowd erupted, united in support of their team who were to play in their first ever grand final. The players graciously congratulated each other on a good game. And the winning team payed tribute to an opposing player who was retiring from the game. Goodness, beauty and love abounds!

So lets keep our eyes open to the beauty around us lest we become an apocaholic.

The antidote to cynicism

On Friday I was driving to Perth to attend the annual Synod meeting. Usually, I zone out a bit in the car listening to a CD I haven't heard in a while. I had left in a bit of a hurry, however, and forgot to grab some new music to keep me occupied. Instead, I found myself listening to talk back radio.

As I was nearing Perth a segment came on that looks at the issues around the world and locally and a couple of guests chat with the host about their thoughts on the subject. This particular morning they had an extra guest phoning in from the eastern states - Billy Bragg. I must say I did not know much about this artist, only that my husband has at least one of his CD's on our shelf.

He was fascinating to listen to. At one point the host brought up the fact that in a previous interview he had commented that our greatest enemy was cynicism. I found this conclusion fascinating. I have found, from experience, that cynicism is contagious. If I hang around people who are negative and distrusting it begins to rub off on me and my optimistic, hopeful self retreats under the table. This is, of course, alive and well in the church. 

But, Billy Bragg then announced that he had an antidote for cynicism. My ears pricked up! Activism is the cure! How is it that during growth points in our life everything and everyone seems to be speaking straight to us? Did Billy Bragg eavesdrop in on one of my conversations?

What is the point sitting around whinging about what is going on? Get involved and make a difference. (My hopeful self peers out from under the table and has a look around.) It sounds so obvious, but with a heightened awareness I am surprised at how the epidemic of cynicism can take over. Like anything, it is easy to talk about, but harder to put into practice. 

For me, this weekend, it has played out in getting more involved in the church. I don't know where this will lead or what my role may be, but I am no longer a prisoner to cynicism as I hold on to hope with a firm grasp. 

A New Year

“It's New Year's Eve,

and hopes are high

Dance one year in,

kiss one goodbye

Another chance, another start

So many dreams to tease the heart”

These are some of the words from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s ‘The Perfect Year’ from the musical ‘Sunset Boulevard’. There is a kind of magic about the way our calendars work. Every day the sun sets and we can begin afresh the next day as the sun rises. Each year we can kiss the previous year goodbye and make promises to ourselves about how things will change in the year to come. 

I only just saw the New Year come in this year. It turned midnight as my hubby and I had just got comfy in bed. With a quick, 'Happy New Year' we were off to sleep. It has been a few years since we have bothered to stay up, pop the champagne and sing 'Auld Lang Syne'. Part of this may be that we have children and it is not practical, but I think it is also because we have become used to the rhythmn of life. Yes, one year has gone and another has started.

But as I struggle to get used to writing 2013 on everything, I don't want to get too complacent about the blessing that each New Year can bring. A fresh start, a clean slate - this is an amazing gift of grace. No matter how 2012 has been for you, 2013 awaits full of potential, full of dreams to ‘tease our hearts’. 

The New Year is full of the unknown. It is a mystery to us all. None of us can tell what is ahead of us. We can make plans and promises to ourselves, but really it is about dealing with whatever life brings us each day. I am excited about the year ahead. I am looking forward to 'A Mandala a Month', to an overseas pilgrimage later in the year, to a year free of formal study, to living in my new house, to seeing my kids continue to grow and much, much more. 

I hope and pray that the dawn of 2013 will bring you much joy and hope for the year ahead. Happy New Year!!

It's Moving Week!!

You could say life is little chaotic right now. I am sitting in my lounge room that has boxes half packed all around me, trying to remain calm. We are now in Advent, a very busy time of the year for those who have chosen my vocation. Carols services, Christmas services, Advent study series and activities winding up for the year all need my attention. My kids have dance concerts, Christmas parties, presentation days, swimming carnivals and homework to finish. In some ways, there could not be a more crazy time to move house. 

In many ways, however, it could not be more fitting. As a family, we are about to cross another threshold together. We are starting another chapter in our new home. There are rooms to paint, vege patches to grow, and many projects to get started on. We are about to start creating our new home together. It will be a place where memories are made and much will be shared.

Advent is a time of expectation, hope and anticipation. Unfortunately, with children, this anticipation is often surrounding the much awaited presents of Christmas Day. I am grateful that this year there is a distraction. The anticipation is about our new chapter in our life. The hope is about what this will mean for our family and the expectation is of many special time ahead. It will be a time that is life giving and transformational. This is what many people live in anticipation of - the life giving change that the coming of Christ can be bring.

I'm not sure how many reflections I will manage to put on the blog over the next week. It could be a crazy time, but there will be many stories to tell once I am sitting in the lounge of our new place surrounded by half packed boxes.