Sacred Ground

I have felt very conflicted over the last few days with the build up to Australia Day. My Facebook feed has been full of various views and opinions. Some of my friends are calling today Survival Day and I fully support the reasoning behind this. Some of my friends are calling for a change in date for similar reasons. Some are posting pictures of very "Aussie things", like shrimps on the barbie, vegemite jokes and numerous Aussie flags. And there are a few, with views I don't agree with, posting "Love it or leave" style messages. I could spend all day reading these and responding with my own personal views, but I am sure there is a more positive, life giving way for me to spend this public holiday. 

Photo: Harrison Lambert

So what have I done? Well, we spent a good portion of the day down at Contos Spring, a stunning local beach. I took my shoes off, let the sand creep between my toes, and remembered the Wardandi people, the First peoples of this area, who have taken care of this land for thousands of years. As the water splashed around my knees (it was rather cool) I thought of these people of the sea who have been custodians of this coastline and the caves under the ground for longer than I can imagine. What a privilege to live in such a stunning land!

My thoughts turned to my own being here in this land. As one of many second peoples who have called Australia home, I reflected on emigrating to Australia some 35 years ago. My parents brought me to this land for a fresh start, a new beginning. We were not fleeing a war torn land as many who come today may be, but we were certainly in search of a better life. I will always be grateful to my parents for making that choice. I would have it no other way. But I am also grateful for those people we found so welcoming when we arrived and settled here.

As I looked out at the sea, which was getting a little choppy at times, I thought of those risking their lives to seek refuge in our land. I wondered about the welcome (or lack of) that they might receive here in the years to come. I hoped that some day they might feel this sand between their toes too.

And so, I haven't felt the need today to seek out some amazing fireworks display or buy cheap Aussie bits and pieces that were all made in some other country. Instead, it has been important to remind myself of this sacred land in which we live. We can become so caught up with who owns this land, who it belongs to and who is allowed in that we have forgotten its sacredness. Millions of people have walked this beach before me, fished for their dinner and cooled off in the clear ocean. Millions of people will follow in the future. I belong here, but this sacred land does not belong to me.

Limit Not the Truth

I have just finished reading a novel that was recommended to me by a member of one of my congregations. The Last Templar, by Raymond Khoury, is a modern story that draws on the persecution of the Knights of the Temple in the Middle Ages. It was a great book and I would recommend it to those of you who enjoy a good historical mystery. There was one part of the novel that particularly grabbed my attention, however.

Towards the end of the story there is a discussion around the impact that a possible ancient discovery may have on Christianity. The content of an artefact could potentially crumble the foundation of the faith of many. The question is asked about the importance of truth and even the definition of truth. Is it believing in all the stories at a literal level or is there some far deeper truth that reaches beyond the stories? One character had a very literal faith and was faced with needing to find a deeper understanding based on their own experience the Divine. Another character never saw a place for faith or God in their life, but was faced with the mystery of life that could only be explained in spiritual terms.

What is more important for us; truth or faith? In my own life, whether the stories of the Bible are true or not does not really matter. In saying this, I am referring to whether they are factual and actually happened as the story tells. All of the stories hold truth though. Underlying the story is a theme, a relationship or an understanding that is still true in my life today. If I did not believe this I would have given up preaching years ago.

The last chapters of this gripping novel have reminded me of the importance of being open to learning and growing in faith in every encounter I may have. To hold onto an unshakeable truth embedded in writings of 2000 years ago limits the truth of God to a certain time and place. There is an old hymn that sums this up perfectly.

We limit not the truth of God
to our poor reach of mind,
to notions of our day and place,
crude, partial, and confined:
No, let a new and better hope
within our hearts be stirred:
O God, grant yet more light and truth
to break forth from your Word.
(George Rawson)

Cherish - Word for 2016

Over the last few years I have given myself a word for the year. A friend of mine told me that they did this each year and so I thought it was worth a try. Two years ago the word was 'integrity'. Last year it was 'strength'. As I chose both of these words, I had a sense of what was in store for me in the year ahead and this somehow informed my choice of word. For 2014 and 2015, these words became very important to me and evolved into words that I clung to when I lost my sense of direction or became despondent.

At the beginning of 2016, I was reflecting on what my word for the coming year could be. Nothing sprung to mind immediately. I thought about some of the changes that were ahead and the challenges they could present, but still no word. And so, I started to ask myself some deeper, more personal questions about my own needs and areas of growth. And that is when the word appeared, almost out of the blue.

As I sat on our back deck, relaxed and content, I sensed a deep need to learn to cherish life. It is not a word that is commonly used in everyday language, but it appealed to me and stuck. I looked up it's definition; to treat with tenderness and affection; to nurture with care; to foster; to hold dear; to indulge; to encourage. The more I pondered on the word, the more I realised that I needed this word. I need to learn to cherish life's moments, rather than racing on to the next one. I need to cherish my family more, rather than taking them for granted. I need to cherish my own self and my calling in life. The list went on and on.

So, 'cherish' is the word for 2016. It is not so clear how this word will impact or what it may teach me, but I am open to allowing this word to be in my life throughout the year.

Canvases Complete!

This weekend I had the wonderful privilege of sharing with a small group of women at our Contemplation on Canvas Retreat. We began the process on Friday evening reflecting on our past and the things that have shaped us in life. By the end of the night we had prepared the base of our canvas with different textures to represent stories and emotions. The canvases were left to dry overnight while we all got a good night's sleep to prepare for the big day ahead. 

The next morning we continued working on our piece by preparing the canvas. In doing this we symbolically embraced our past and celebrated it as part of who we are. It was then time to reflect on colours, symbols, words and images that depicted our present life moving into the future. We used guided meditation, listening to songs, reading quotes and pondering Leunig cartoons to assist us in finding the symbols that resonated with each of us.

Each person's canvas was unique, expressing the individual's journey. We shared in the group the story of the creation of our canvases. What an honour to be invited into each story in such an intimate way. Throughout the two days, we laughed together, ate together and were silent together. It was a wonderful experience.

After running this retreat for the first time, I am now set up to offer it to others. If you think this sounds like something you and a group of friends would like to do, get in contact and I can give you more details. I would love the opportunity to share the experience with more people.

Silence

Silence is that point of hesitation

   where I peer into the light of my own reflection,

   where all becomes clear and my ambition melts away.

Silence is the hush before I breathe deeply

   and fill my lungs - no space left empty.

Silence is not the absence of noise

   but my choice to enter my own stillness - and be.

Silence is my soul's night time,

   a dark void to rest my weary spirit.

Silence is my sabbath where I realise

   I have been walking towards my own shadow

   and gently turn my face to the light.

Silence is not a space for sending forth new shoots,

   but for sinking roots deep.

Silence is a healing space,

   a balm for deep wounds

   and a knife to hidden scars.

Silence is not safe,

   a vulnerable opening for winds of change

   and exposing light to the dark corners.

Silence is .... transformation. 

Ownership: Maintaining Control in a Fragile World

There have been a lot of stories recently in our media that have me wondering if our need for ownership is damaging our society. Many of us own the patch of land that we live on. We paid quite a sum of money, and perhaps are still paying, to claim ownership of our block, our little section of Australia.

The way our society views land as a possession has a huge influence on our attitude to sharing our land. The First Peoples of this land have a a very different view of the land. It is more about listening and being in relationship than possession and ownership. There is a lot we can learn from them. Is it any wonder that some people are so against accepting refugees into our country? The fear that we might lose control and ownership of our land is enough to have us metaphorically building our fences higher and stronger. But, is this land really ours to own? Perhaps, if we could learn to be stewards rather than owners of the land, we would have a much more generous view to sharing our land and welcoming the stranger.

Another area where people seem to assert their ownership is in the search for truth. We crave for some sort of security in life and so claim to own the truth. It makes us feel safe and gives us certainty in a fragile world. But, as soon as someone with a different truth comes along we feel under threat. Our own need to own the truth, to grasp hold of it defensively, causes us to react to difference in fear. Those who do not fit our picture of truth are excluded, oppressed or perhaps in a more subtle way, prayed for fervently that they might conform to our ways. Is the truth really ours to own? Perhaps, if we could learn to be seekers rather than owners of the truth we would have a much more generous view to sharing our wisdom with the wisdom of the stranger.

Patriotism, fundamentalism and materialism all contain an element of possession and ownership. As many of us heard in our churches last Sunday, Jesus answer to the rich, young man seeking eternal life was to give away his possessions. We could say, he was challenged to give away his sense of ownership. I wonder if he meant more than just material wealth? As we hold so tightly to the things in life that we most fear losing, do we really have the capacity to know the joy that they bring us. Perhaps our sense of ownership is what holds us back from living a life of love and compassion. 

Contemplation on Canvas

I am excited to tell you all about a new retreat that I am going to run for the first time in October. The content of the retreat has been born out of my own experience in combining my love for mixed media art and reflecting on my spiritual journey. During our time together we will spend time in personal reflection followed by a "messy" time of creatively depicting these thoughts on canvas. At the end of the retreat each participant will take home their own record, perhaps an artistic journal, of the journey they are on.

There is no need to be have any particular artistic talents to be part of this retreat. The techniques used are not complicated and are lots of fun. The retreat will be held at Margaret River Uniting Church on the 23rd and 24th of October. If you would like more information please have a look at the registration form or send me a message. If you would like to travel to come to this retreat, we may be able to assist with accommodation. There is a limit of 15 participants, so get in quick.