When things come full circle

I am not often good with remembering details, but I have a distinct memory of the morning I told the Augusta congregation of my intentions to take a leave of absence to pursue further study. I was extremely nervous about how they would receive the news. We were still in the Easter season and I was preaching on the passage where Paul is in Athens and talks with the people about their "unknown God". We explored what can be known of God and what is mystery. I shared the feelings of vulnerability that we have when telling others of our personal experiences of God. At the end of the service I announced that in about a year I would be leaving my ministry with them to begin a new path.

One of the reasons that morning is stuck so firmly in my mind, apart from my whirlwind of emotions, was the present of a visitor. The lady snuck into the church moments before the service was due to start and I only had time for a quick smile and a hello, before worship begun. She participated throughout the service and seemed comfortable, but as the end of the service drew closer my discomfort rose. It felt strange having a visitor present for my announcement. I was nervous enough as it was. During morning tea I introduced myself properly to the visitor and apologised that she had arrived on an unusual morning. As it turned out, we had a great chat and she gave me her email address to send her my message from the service to revisit.

An email conversation had begun and the visitor told me that she was gathering spiritual stories from women to compile a book that would encourage other women to share their experiences and stories. She asked me if I would be willing to share my story of discernment. Part of me felt like running, or at least politely declining. But another part of me heard again my own sermon encouraging me to be a little vulnerable in order to encourage and empower others. At any rate, it would be a good exercise to write about this journey and how God had been working through it. I wrote it up and pressed send on the email before I could back out.

That was two years ago. I have received the occasional email from the visitor from time to time updating me and letting me know it is still in her plans. At one point she even asked me to add a little to the end to update the story. Every now and then I have wondered whether anything will ever come of her dream to publish these stories. Well... yesterday I received an email from her saying she had finally submitted the 14 stories to a publisher. Her dream was becoming a reality. It made me smile to think how this had all come full circle. It began on a morning when I was feeling particularly vulnerable sharing my experience of God's calling in life. It escalated in an invitation to share ore deeply that story with whoever might choose to read this lady's book. And now, two years later, I am about to begin listening to the stories of other women's experiences of God in an effort to find ways to empower and encourage women to name the "unknown God" in their lives. In some ways this strange story of the visitor and her mysterious book has been underlying my journey and I look forward to how it will continue in the next chapter.

Spiritual Autobiography

On Thursday, I will be leading the current participants of the Dayspring Graduate Diploma in Spiritual Direction in a morning exploring the topic of spiritual autobiography and its relevance in their role as spiritual directors. In preparation, I have reflected on some of the spiritual autobiographies I have learnt from in my journey. These have come in many different forms; books, movies, poetry, songs, artwork. 

This process has highlighted once again for me the importance of sharing stories; listening to stories of others and having our own heard. Without giving too much away about my plans, let me tell you how I plan to start the session. I am going to read the group a beautiful picture book, The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr Morris Lessmore, by William Joyce. This is such a fabulous story that speaks of the healing and restorative nature of stories. The animated film version of this story can be viewed here.

Stories hold power. They hold power for us, as the storyteller, and for those with whom we share. On Thursday, I will be encouraging the group to find creative ways to express their own story of their spiritual journey in order that they may be able to invite others to do likewise. How do you find ways of sharing your own story with others? How do you create opportunities to listen to the stories of others? I am convinced that the sharing of our stories, simple as this may seem, is the foundation needed for building understanding and breaking down barriers of difference and discrimination.

Call the Next Witness

This week I have been working on my last service with one of my congregations. The readings talk about being witnesses. I have been reflecting on what it means to be a witness and I can't go past my very recent experience of our first Deep Listening Festival last weekend. It seems that I have spent a lot of the last week sharing stories with people, listening to the experiences of others and hearing how the participants have responded to the festival. I feel I have witnessed something very special.

So what does it mean to be a witness? It seems so simple, yet so profound. I think there are three aspects to being a witness. You are present, you have an experience and you have a story to share. Being present is not just about attendance, but about allowing yourself to be fully attentive and immersed in what is happening. This seems very rare in today's world, when we are often worrying about the next thing or escaping from being fully present by drifting into the virtual world. Practising presence is vital for our spiritual and emotional wellbeing.

The second part of being a witness is to have an experience. We don't travel through life simply being an observer. Life is about participation. This was my big hope for our festival last weekend. The aim was not for people to turn up, listen and go home; but to really experience something, to be moved, to be changed. The only way we can know if this has happened is if the stories are shared. In the space of a week, I have seen evidence of two artworks that are being created in response to the festival, two poems that have been written, a labyrinth created on the beach, two people who have been moved to act in their areas of influence and a myriad of powerful stories.

The Deep Listening festival is but one example. We are witnesses to love, life and hope every day. It is a challenge to us, however, to not save our 'witnessing' for special occasions. Let us be more present, get involved more in life and share our stories with each other.

Meeting the Mystics: Meeting Me

My first 'gig' after I finish my ministry placement in a little over a month now, is facilitating the Women's Weekend Away in Perth. This is an annual event that has been going for quite a few years now. Each year, the ladies invite a different facilitator to explore a theme throughout the weekend. I first led this retreat while still studying and it was a great time with a lovely mix of fun, laughter and reflection. Back then, we looked at the theme of creating space in our lives.

This year, I will be unpacking the theme 'Meeting the Mystics: Meeting Me'. I gave the committee a couple of themes to choose from and I am so excited they went with this one. Over the weekend, we will develop an understanding of mysticism that, I hope, removes the mystery and elitism of the term so that we can see where it is relevant for us today. We will meet some of the wonderful female mystics, including Julian of Norwich, Hildegaard of Bingen, Teresa of Avila and Therese of Lisieux. We will spend some time in quiet, some out in nature, some getting arty and some playing games. 

My hope is that the women who come along will find a safe space where they can share their own experiences of God and their own spiritual journey. So often, people do not share their profound experiences out of fear that it is not seen as credible or in line with the beliefs of our faith community. The mystics of the past were often on the fringes of the church, as they were not afraid to speak out. I am looking forward to hearing the women who come along and helping their stories to be valued and validated.

It is shaping up to be a great weekend and, best of all, someone else cooks for you! If you are in or around Perth and are free from May 25th to 27th, why not come along and join us? For more information or to register have a look at the form.

The Power of a Story

This afternoon, I was invited to be the guest speaker at a World Community Day Service. If you are like me and hadn't heard of such a service before, it is similar to the ecumenical World Day of Prayer services. A theme is set along with a liturgy, hymns and readings. The job of the guest speaker is to try and say something meaningful which reflects the theme and incorporates the readings.

The theme for 2017 was "Empowered to Proclaim (Love, Liberty and Life)". On first seeing this, I thought it was a very broad theme and wasn't sure where to begin. I then looked at the readings. The first was the story from Matthew of a woman anointing Jesus' head with oil. The second was the raising of Tabitha from Acts. The final reading was the story of the healing of the crippled woman on the Sabbath from Luke. This was not helpful. Three huge stories about women. How could I do any of them justice in such a short space of time?

After much pondering, I decided to parallel each story with a story of a significant woman in my life. The three women I chose were vastly different and had effected me in various ways. I chose not to provide any analysis of the stories, but just to tell them with honesty, emotion and a touch of humour. To be honest, I wasn't sure if this would meet the expectations of the group who had given up their afternoon to be there. Having never experienced one of these services, I had no idea where the bar was set.

I needn't have worried. I should have realised the power of a personal story. People were obviously stirred, perhaps by relating part of my story to their own. People recognised their own ordinary stories as sacred, perhaps as a result of my holy holding of my own. As I shared a cuppa with some afterwards, the stories flowed easily between women who had only just met.

I thought I had taken the easy option in telling a few stories, but sharing of yourself is never without some cost. For me, it is much more tiring to share personal stories than to stick to a more removed style of preaching. The process, however, is extremely meaningful. The stories come alive in a new way, not only for the listener, but for the storyteller as well.

Soundtrack of Life

One of my skills in life, which is now obsolete, is the art of creating a mixtape. As a teenager, I created many such cassette tapes. Cathie's Hits One through to Fifteen, the Love Songs special and the Movie Classics are still hidden away in a drawer somewhere. My boyfriends during this period of my life also had the rare privilege of being gifted a mixtape with all the soppiest songs of the day expressing my undying love for them.

For those a little too young to understand the process of creating such a gem as Cathie's Hits 11 (I recall this being one of my favourites) let me explain. Before there was such a thing as iTunes or Spotify, we had to buy our music on cassette or listen to the Top 20 on the radio with finger poised on the record button. This required a high level of skill in order to avoid the DJ's intro or the beginning of the next song. After managing to capture the favourite tunes, you would then spend hours fast-fowarding and recording the tracks to a mixtape, creating your very own compilation.

I spent five hours in the car today, driving to retreat. As I drove, I flicked between my favourite songs on my phone and had an awesome sing-a-long. I was reflecting on what I would put on my mixtape today. It would have a good dose of Carole King, Missy Higgins and Kendall Payne. Of course, there would have to be Over the Rainbow and a couple of tunes from the musical Wicked.

As I listened and sang along, it occurred to me that each song had its own story for me. Some reminded me of certain people, while others described perfectly certain situations in life. Music holds so much power; the power to evoke tears, motivate us to new ways of being and bring clarity to the mess of life. My mixtape today would be a soundtrack to my life, a journey of ups and downs, joys and sorrows. I think I might create this 'mixtape'. Fortunately, with today's technology, it won't take me hours of pressing buttons. I will create a playlist titled 'Soundtrack of Life' and see how it changes over the months and years ahead - just for fun!!

Embedded Stories and Repudiating Doctrines

One of the really important decisions we made at the Uniting Church Assembly a few week's ago was to repudiate the Doctrine of Discovery. Now, if you are anything like I was when I first read this proposal, you are probably responding with - what? I had never heard of the Doctrine of Discovery, let alone understood why we were being asked to repudiate it.

After some reading and listening, I began to understand something of how this story came together. A papal decree by Pope Nicholas V in 1452, gave Christians permission to invade non-Christian lands, to dominate and take the people into slavery. This is just one example of how the church, in the past, has used its power to overcome indigenous peoples. This, of course, is not an isolated case. All over the world, people have used religion to justify actions which are shocking.

But why was it so important for the Uniting Church, who seeks justice for the First Peoples of our land, to repudiate this Doctrine. Well, I think it has to do with how stories can be forgotten, but are still embedded in our collective unconscious. Like many others at Assembly, I did not know about Pope Nicholas V and his papal bull. I cannot even imagine being part of such an appalling violation. The story has been passed down, however. It may not have been recorded so much in books or in oral tradition, but the attitudes are still alive in our communities.

I was so pleased that this proposal was brought to our attention. The story of oppression that has been hidden underground for so long, known only to those who experience it day after day, has been raised to my consciousness. It is not so much about a papal bull made over 500 years ago, but about the way that story has lived on in our unconscious. I have seen evidence of it in my own backyard only this week. We will continue to remain blind to these prejudices unless we have the courage to face the stories which have made our societies who they are.

Thank you to Congress for taking away the scales from my eyes!

Bethlehem Revisited

On the morning of May the 10th, 2005 I was standing on the shore at a conference centre just out of Athens watching a boat arrive. I had no idea that this was the beginning of a much larger story for me, where my journey would intersect with the journeys of so many others. As the boat drew closer we could see a large wooden cross on board. To the sound of African talking drums, nearly 600 participants in the Conference on World Mission and Evangelism, received it and prayed together. The 5-metre-high cross, handcrafted in Jerusalem, contained wood salvaged from olive trees in Bethlehem cut down in the building of the wall separating Israel from Palestine. It was a symbol of reconciliation and healing, and of churches standing in solidarity with Christians in the Middle East.

I must admit, at the time, I didn’t have a clue what was happening in Israel. Keeping up with current affairs had never been a strong point of mine. I knew there were problems, but couldn’t have told you anything about the separation wall and what that meant for the people. Despite my ignorance, however, I came away from that conference knowing I had experienced something meaningful and an event that would hold great weight in my life. Momentarily, my journey had touched the journey of Christians in Palestine.

Nine years on, in August this year, I found myself in Jerusalem. Our day trip to Bethlehem was with a Palestinian taxi driver. On the way there, he explained what life was like for his people many of whom struggled daily with Israeli checkpoints and living behind a separation wall. There was no bitterness as he told his story. He simply told us about his life and trusted that God was with him. As we drew closer to Bethlehem a mountainous wall appeared. In fact I struggled to call it just a wall – it was a barrier created out of fear. This was where the cross in Athens came from. It was real. The stories came flooding back and all of a sudden made sense.

I must say the Christmas story has had a different feel to it this year after visiting modern day Bethlehem. The stylized images of the nativity and shepherds in their fields have become a little less glossy after seeing the Jewish settlements built over Shepherd’s fields. Instead the hardship and the desperation of the Christmas story seems more stark as the story somehow repeats itself again and again in the stories of people today.

It is not only a journey that touched the stories of others in the first century. It continues to meet us in our journeys today.  And this is what makes the story so important for us. It is not a story that is out of touch. It is not a journey that is completely foreign to us. It was a journey of struggle, a journey of survival, a journey of hope. Jesus knew what it was to be a refugee, knew what it was like to fear for your life, knew what it was like to be away from home and still he reached out to all people with love and compassion. Despite his own experience and his own journey, he was able to meet others on their journeys and walk with them for a while in love.

Uncovering treasure in Jerusalem

I am about to begin Day 6 in Israel. We have been going none stop seeing all the sights and soaking in the atmosphere of this place. I have struggled to keep up with writing in my journal and really have not had a lot of time to process what is happening in me while so much is happening around me. Today we are leaving Jerusalem to venture further afield. As we move into the desert and then to the shores of Galilee I am hoping to have a little less of an assault on the senses to start to try and reflect on what this place, the experiences and the people have given me.

I feel a little like I have been given a precious gift, but have not unwrapped it yet. This is the sort of gift that you cannot rip the paper off, it needs to be uncovered in time with care. I have written down some headings of some stories that I know have special significance. I don't know how long it will take to discover the story beneath the story. I guess it is a bit like many of the archaeological sites I have seen. Little by little and with patience treasures are found.

So as I leave the magnificence of Jerusalem behind, my bags are a little heavier and my heart is certainly richer.Farewell Jerusalem!

A New House!

Well, we have officially moved into our new house. Our lives seem surrounded by boxes of varying sizes and shapes with mysterious contents. Gradually, we are tackling one box at a time and finding a new home for the contents. You would think that the process would be easy. This box came from the dining room, so it gets put in the dining room in the new place. The trouble is, our new house has a completely different configuration of rooms with different storage capabilities to our old place. In many ways, unpacking the boxes is like developing a whole new filing system. Where is going to be the most effective place for these items to be kept in light of this whole new context we are living in? 

During my training for ministry, a high priority was put on theological reflection. Some people found the process tiresome or difficult, but it always came quite naturally to me. I guess this blog is like a continuous theological reflection on life. In theological reflection we are encouraged to reflect on events of our own life in light of the bigger story. New insights and understandings can emerge from these reflections which need to be integrated into our own story. I find it sad that some people have amazing experiences in life, but they are not challenged to change or be transformed as a result. 

I have moved house physically a few times now. I seem to be more experienced at moving spiritual home, however. There is still rearranging to be done. There are still boxes that need to be packed and unpacked. Sometimes items find new homes. Sometimes things need to be thrown out. Moving spiritual home is not a physically demanding, but can be just as stressful and time consuming. 

We currently don't have internet or phone connections at our new place. In many ways this is a blessing. When we have those times of transition in our spiritual journey it is also helpful to disconnect the phone. We wouldn't dream of moving house without taking some time to allow this to happen. Why would we do anything less when making a spiritual shift?

I wonder how many "spiritual" boxes you have lying around your home. Maybe this Advent and Christmas time might be a good time to open some of the lids and reflect on where the contents might fit. Happy unpacking!!

Starting our Story Circle

A little over a week ago, some people in the Margaret River congregation gathered for the first "Story Circle" This was inspired by our workshop back in August with Sarah Agnew on "Telling our Story". As this was our first meeting, we had no agenda as such. We were asked to bring a piece of writing with us to share, but we only just managed to discuss these. The time was filled with spontaneous sharing of our stories. Stories of family, childhood, places we lived and times of transition. 

Some found commonalities in their stories and could talk about places that were familiar. Others lamented that they did not know the stories of their parents and wish they had asked the right questions at the right time. This spurred us on to talk about passing our stories on to our own children while we are still able.

We have decided to meet again at the beginning of December, but we have some homework in the meantime. We have all committed to at least starting to write a story for our children. It can be a story about their younger life or our own, but something we would like to share with them. I'm not sure where to start. What is an important story for my children to hear? What stories will make a difference in their life? I am hoping that in the next week a story will become obvious as one I need to write.

I wonder what stories you would write about your life. If you want to know more about the inspiration for our story circle have a look at Sarah's blog.

A Journey with Eva

I had the privilege today to share my journey home from Augusta with Eva. She was waiting on the side of the road, so I pulled over and asked where she needed to be. I am usually wary of hitchhikers. Its an unfortunate result of today's world; we are never sure who we can trust or whether we will be safe. Funnily enough, Eva shared the same thing. She didn't usually hitch, but was having faith that the right person would pull over and be able to give her a lift.

And so, two cautious travelers shared the half hour journey back to Margaret River. It began with the usual chit chat where we shared what had brought us to the point of taking this road at this time of the day. We talked philosophy, theology, sustainability and much more. The role of women in the world and in the church and in the surf was pondered. We agreed the world was out of balance. She quoted an inspirational piece of poetry, and I finished the stanza. We lamented the inflexibility and exclusivity of much of the church. I spoke to Eva with such honesty and passion about life and love and God. She was not a church goer, but we certainly had a common understanding about our spiritual lives.

I felt sorry that the journey was not much longer. I found Eva easier to talk to about much deeper topics than some of my close friends. I have heard people tell stories of hitchhikers who mysteriously disappear into thin air. People have pondered whether these people may have been angels in disguise. I have no doubt that Eva was a real, flesh and blood person. She certainly didn't vanish before my eyes. But something gave her the compulsion to decide to hitch. Something gave me the courage to stop. And something was certainly moving between us in our conversation. Unexpected moments like these are certainly "angel's blessings" in our lives.

The Boy, The Kite and The Wind

A few months ago I used this video clip at a family service. We were talking about the Spirit being like wind. This wonderful video is a retelling of the children's book by Al Andrews. I think it has a message that we need to hear. What are we passing on to our children? Are we gifting them with the things in life that will be eternal? This raises lots of questions and wondering about Spirituality with children. Enjoy the clip!