Well, after a protracted "phoney campaign", the PM finally visited the Governor-General to inform His Excellency that he should dissolve the Parliament and call an election for November 24th.
Forgive me if I sound cynical, but once again we're going to be launched into a contest between a Liberal Party that's about as "liberal" as a Southern Baptist Convention, and a Labor Party that wouldn't recognise the expression "working class" if it bit them on their collective arse!
At least the media will be happy, gleefully press-ganging the political main-players every day for the next six weeks in their never-ending quest for the gaff-of-the-day. Meanwhile, Messrs Howard and Rudd will be insisting that they're as different from one another as chalk and cheese, while at the same time maintaining that the other lot are copying their ideas!
Lord preserve us, but this next little while is going to be a joy to live through. Don't get me wrong, I'm gagging for a change of government: as far as I'm concerned, John Howard will go down in history as the most mediocre person to have ever been Prime Minister of this country. Which tells you something about how abysmal the Opposition has been in the last ten years - and how short sighted the voting population of this nation. And, no, it's not because they've been voting conservative, it's the reasons why: fear, ignorance, bigotry, selfishness. I reckon Amos, Hosea, and Jeremiah would have been having something to say to us over this last decade or so...
Anyhoo, we might as well settle in for what's undoubtedly going to be a "fun" ride characterised by oodles of pork-barrelling, blithely delivered assurances about the costings on all those election promises, and accusations of bad faith, incompetence, inexperience, shady dealings and general character assassination. Ain't democracy wonderful???
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: Of course democracy's no fair. And a good thing, too. Give the likes of Baldrick the vote and we'll be back to cavorting Druids, death by stoning, and dung for dinner. (Edmund Blackadder)
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Thursday, October 11, 2007
A Tight Squeeze!
It has been a heck of a week here at Comfy Couch Central!
The cause of all this excitement has been the dreaded malaise known as assignment deadlineitis!
Every semester, I begin by saying that this time I'll be organised: I'll study properly, I'll get stuck into the research for the assignments early, I won't leave anything until the last moment.
And this semester, I did - I actually did! I had two of my three assignments properly researched, with oodles of notes. And I was on the verge of getting stuck into the third - when the retina in my left eye decided it was a great time to detach again. Which in turn necessitated surgery, which also necessitated a week lying immobilised on my left side, which finally necessitated getting used to reading and writing with one eye. And then, just as a semblance of normality was returning, I came down with a chest infection - the result of which was another three weeks out of action!
Which, of course, meant all my planning - and good intentions! - went down the drain. I had to swallow my pride and ask my lecturers for extensions - which they all gladly provided with ready grace and concern for my welfare. They even asked if I needed longer than I asked for! Stupidly, I decided not to take advantage of their generosity, confident that I could get the work done in time.
WRONG! Well, almost. The deadline was this week - Friday, to be precise. And I had two of the three assignments unfinished. Well, I managed to knock over one by Tuesday, and today I've (miracle!) managed to complete the second.
Phew! It was a stretch! But I can also tell you this much: I sure appreciate the generosity and understanding of my lecturers, and their readiness to give me every possible assistance. It makes one hell of a difference to your confidence!
So here's a vote of thanks to my lecturers - I hope what I've produced justifies their generosity!
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: Teachers open the door; you must enter by yourself. (Chinese proverb)
The cause of all this excitement has been the dreaded malaise known as assignment deadlineitis!
Every semester, I begin by saying that this time I'll be organised: I'll study properly, I'll get stuck into the research for the assignments early, I won't leave anything until the last moment.
And this semester, I did - I actually did! I had two of my three assignments properly researched, with oodles of notes. And I was on the verge of getting stuck into the third - when the retina in my left eye decided it was a great time to detach again. Which in turn necessitated surgery, which also necessitated a week lying immobilised on my left side, which finally necessitated getting used to reading and writing with one eye. And then, just as a semblance of normality was returning, I came down with a chest infection - the result of which was another three weeks out of action!
Which, of course, meant all my planning - and good intentions! - went down the drain. I had to swallow my pride and ask my lecturers for extensions - which they all gladly provided with ready grace and concern for my welfare. They even asked if I needed longer than I asked for! Stupidly, I decided not to take advantage of their generosity, confident that I could get the work done in time.
WRONG! Well, almost. The deadline was this week - Friday, to be precise. And I had two of the three assignments unfinished. Well, I managed to knock over one by Tuesday, and today I've (miracle!) managed to complete the second.
Phew! It was a stretch! But I can also tell you this much: I sure appreciate the generosity and understanding of my lecturers, and their readiness to give me every possible assistance. It makes one hell of a difference to your confidence!
So here's a vote of thanks to my lecturers - I hope what I've produced justifies their generosity!
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: Teachers open the door; you must enter by yourself. (Chinese proverb)
Saturday, October 06, 2007
The True Power of Magic
In the last few weeks, I have been reading Ursula Le Guin's wonderful Earthsea Trilogy (it's now a sextet, but that's another story). This has partly been as a result of my improving eye sight after my surgery, and partly as a means of taking my mind off assignments and deadlines. But mostly it was prompted by the fact that, as part of the Selection Conference weekend when my Dearly Beloved and I had to convince the Uniting Church's Victorian-Tasmanian Synod Committee of our call to ordained ministry, we had to give a presentation of something about which we were passionate (outside church and faith).
I gave a presentation on my passion for literature and reading, and in particular, my love of writing. I did this by tracing my earliest experience with books at the local library, through my expanding repertoire of fiction and non-fiction - until I read a novel that awoke in me my talent for writing. And that book was The Tombs of Atuan, second in the Earthsea trilogy.
So it was in a mood of sentimental reminiscence that I started reading the original trilogy all over again. And once more I recalled the characters whose stories had touched me when I first read them all those many years ago, and on every occasion since. Ged, the main character, powerful and willful, possessed of great talent and deep power; his master Ogion the Silent, grave and silent, compassionate and without anger; Estarriol, Ged's wise and humble friend; Tenar, once Priestess of the Old Powers of Atuan, bringer of the Rune of Peace; and Lebannen, Prince of Enlad, the long-lost King whose destiny it is to travel with Ged across the dark lands of death in order to heal the broken Kingdom of Earthsea.
And I also read again the many passages by which I had been moved and remembered across the years: Ged taking leave from his master Ogion; Ged learning harsh lessons about power and its limitations when he tames the dragon Yevaud but cannot save a dying child; Ged receiving his faithful boat Lookfar from a poor fisherman, and in return healing the fisherman of the cataracts that were blinding him; the companionship of Ged and Estarriol as they face what they believe is certain death; Tenar being taken from her parents to serve in the Tombs of Atuan; Tenar and Ged escaping from the Tombs; Ged and Lebannen as they journey together to stop a great evil that is consuming the earth.
As I said, it was The Tombs of Atuan that woke in me my talent of writing. But it was the first novel, A Wizard of Earthsea, that I always treasured as a young adult; partly because I identified strongly with the main character, Ged, but also because I loved the character Ogion. He seemed to me to be the model of what it was to be wise: grave, silent, compassionate, without anger or vanity, possessed of a wry sense of humour, someone who acted only out of necessity, never in haste, never for reasons of self-aggrandisement or promotion, but because it was needful and just. These are not characteristics which I possess: but they remain a goal toward which I strive.
Now, however, its is the final book in the trilogy, The Farthest Shore, which has captured my allegiance. That's because it's the most philosophical of the three, the most contemplative; it is a meditation in life and living, of the joys and sorrows of being, of the pleasures and consequences of existence. And in particular, it's an exposition on power, on the use and abuse of power; and on how power is rarely what we imagine it to be. And there are some truly amazing passages, thoughtful and powerful in their insight:
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: Only in silence the word, only in dark the light, only in dying life: bright the hawk's flight on the empty sky. (Ursula Le Guin)
I gave a presentation on my passion for literature and reading, and in particular, my love of writing. I did this by tracing my earliest experience with books at the local library, through my expanding repertoire of fiction and non-fiction - until I read a novel that awoke in me my talent for writing. And that book was The Tombs of Atuan, second in the Earthsea trilogy.
So it was in a mood of sentimental reminiscence that I started reading the original trilogy all over again. And once more I recalled the characters whose stories had touched me when I first read them all those many years ago, and on every occasion since. Ged, the main character, powerful and willful, possessed of great talent and deep power; his master Ogion the Silent, grave and silent, compassionate and without anger; Estarriol, Ged's wise and humble friend; Tenar, once Priestess of the Old Powers of Atuan, bringer of the Rune of Peace; and Lebannen, Prince of Enlad, the long-lost King whose destiny it is to travel with Ged across the dark lands of death in order to heal the broken Kingdom of Earthsea.
And I also read again the many passages by which I had been moved and remembered across the years: Ged taking leave from his master Ogion; Ged learning harsh lessons about power and its limitations when he tames the dragon Yevaud but cannot save a dying child; Ged receiving his faithful boat Lookfar from a poor fisherman, and in return healing the fisherman of the cataracts that were blinding him; the companionship of Ged and Estarriol as they face what they believe is certain death; Tenar being taken from her parents to serve in the Tombs of Atuan; Tenar and Ged escaping from the Tombs; Ged and Lebannen as they journey together to stop a great evil that is consuming the earth.
As I said, it was The Tombs of Atuan that woke in me my talent of writing. But it was the first novel, A Wizard of Earthsea, that I always treasured as a young adult; partly because I identified strongly with the main character, Ged, but also because I loved the character Ogion. He seemed to me to be the model of what it was to be wise: grave, silent, compassionate, without anger or vanity, possessed of a wry sense of humour, someone who acted only out of necessity, never in haste, never for reasons of self-aggrandisement or promotion, but because it was needful and just. These are not characteristics which I possess: but they remain a goal toward which I strive.
Now, however, its is the final book in the trilogy, The Farthest Shore, which has captured my allegiance. That's because it's the most philosophical of the three, the most contemplative; it is a meditation in life and living, of the joys and sorrows of being, of the pleasures and consequences of existence. And in particular, it's an exposition on power, on the use and abuse of power; and on how power is rarely what we imagine it to be. And there are some truly amazing passages, thoughtful and powerful in their insight:
"When I was young I had to choose between the life of being and the life of doing. And I leapt at the latter like a trout to a fly. But each deed you do, each act, binds you to itself and to its consequences, and makes you act again and yet again. Then very seldom do you come upon a space, a time like this, between act and act, when you may stop and simply be. Or wonder who, after all, you are." (Chapter Three)
There is a certain bleakness in finding hope where one expected certainty. (Chapter Three)
"Only one thing can resist an evil-hearted man. And that is another man. In our shame is our glory. Only our spirit, which is capable of evil, is capable of overcoming it." (Chapter Three)
"Do you see...how an act is not, as young men think, like a rock that one picks up and throws, and it hits or misses, and that's the end of it. When that rock is lifted, the earth is lighter, the hand that bears it heavier. When it is thrown the circuit of the stars responds, and where it strikes or falls the universe is changed. On every act the balance of the whole depends. The winds and seas, the powers of water and earth and light, all that these do, and all that the beasts and green things do, is well done, and rightly done...But we, in so far as we have power over the world and over one another, we must learn to do what the leaf and the whale and the wind do of their own nature. We must learn to keep the balance. Having intelligence, we must not act in ignorance. Having choice, we must not act without responsibility." (Chapter Four)
"This is. And thou art. There is no safety. There is no end. The word must be heard in silence, There must be darkness to see the stars. The dance is always danced above the hollow place, above the terrible abyss." (Chapter Eight)
"To refuse death is to refuse life." (Chapter Eight)
"The traitor, the self, the self that cries I want to live, let the world rot so long as I can live! The little traitor soul in us, in the dark, like the spider in the box. He talks to all of us. But only some understand him." (Chapter Nine)
"Only what is mortal bears life...Only in death is there rebirth. The Balance is not a stillness. It is a movement - an eternal becoming." (Chapter Nine)
"What is a good man? Is a good man one who would not do evil, who would not open a door to darkness, who has no darkness in him? Look again...Look a little farther." (Chapter Nine)
"You stand on the borders of possibility, in the shadowland, in the realm of dream, and you hear the voice saying Come. As I once did. But I am old. I have made my choices. I have done what I must do. I stand in daylight facing my own death. And I know that there is only one power worth having. And that is the power, not to take, but to accept. Not to have, but to give." (Chapter Nine)
"You fear them because you fear death, and rightly: for death is terrible, and must be feared...And life is also a terrible thing...and must be feared and praised." (Chapter Eleven)
"Look at the land; look about you. This is your kingdom, the kingdom of life. This is your immortality. Look at the hills, the mortal hills. They do not endure forever. The hills with the living grass on them, and the streams with water running...In all the world, in all the worlds, in all the immensity of time, there is no other like each of those streams, rising cold out of the earth where no eye sees it, running through the sunlight and the darkness to the sea. Deep are the springs of being, deeper than life, than death..." (Chapter Eleven)
"I have given my love to what is worthy of love. Is that not the kingdom, and the unperishing spring?" (Chapter Eleven)
"A living body suffers pain...a living body grows old; it dies. Death is the price we pay for our life, and for all life." (Chapter Twelve)
As one critic wrote of Le Guin's work: "If you've had enough of Harry Potter-style kid wizardry, Le Guin offers a powerful tonic. These tales are intense, moving, engaging, and best of all, character driven. Le Guin knows people, wizards or not."
I couldn't put it better myself. And that's why I'll always love this trilogy.Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: Only in silence the word, only in dark the light, only in dying life: bright the hawk's flight on the empty sky. (Ursula Le Guin)
Friday, September 28, 2007
Time For Revenge?
Thanks to Caro, I took the Nerd Test and have emerged as a self-revealed High Nerd!
This is how I scored...
Now, if only I can figure out who to wreck my nerdish vengence upon...
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: Genius is the capacity for evading hard work. (Elbert Hubbard)
This is how I scored...
Now, if only I can figure out who to wreck my nerdish vengence upon...
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: Genius is the capacity for evading hard work. (Elbert Hubbard)
Thursday, September 20, 2007
I Know I'm Bookish, But...
You can blame this one on Caro...although I'm actually quite pleased with the result, as this is one of my favourite books of all time...
You're To Kill a Mockingbird!
by Harper Lee
Perceived as a revolutionary and groundbreaking person, you have
changed the minds of many people. While questioning the authority around you, you've
also taken a significant amount of flack. But you've had the admirable guts to
persevere. There's a weird guy in the neighborhood using dubious means to protect you,
but you're pretty sure it's worth it in the end. In the end, it remains unclear to you
whether finches and mockingbirds get along in real life.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
Talk to you soon,
BB.
And Now For Something a Little Less Serious...
You Are a Blue Crayon |
 Your world is colored in calm, understated, deep colors. You are a loyal person, and the truest friend anyone could hope to find. On the inside, you tend to be emotional and even a bit moody. However, you know that people depend on you. So you put on a strong front. Your color wheel opposite is orange. Orange people may be opinionated, but you feel they lack the depth to truly understand what they're saying. |
| You Are 72% Good |
 You are a good person. You do the best you can to be ethical, fair, and moral. And as you know, being a good person means making hard decisions... and following them through. If you're confronted with an ethical dilemma, you will usually do the right thing. Of course you do slip up. No one's perfect. But you do your best to correct your missteps. You are also probably: incredibly honest, especially with yourself Right now you are on track to being: A respected leader To be a better person: Be kind to someone who is not very kind to you |
| You Are a Haunted House |
 You are a deeply complicated and sometimes deeply disturbed person. You can't help but be attracted to the dark side of life - even when it's pretty gruesome. In relationships, you are honest and real. So real that it's definitely a little scary. You don't fake it or play along just to get along. And people either respect this... or deeply resent it Your life is thoughtful, deep, and even philosophical at times. You see the world as it is. You don't sugar coat anything. Facing and fighting your fears is important to you. You believe that too much of life is whitewashed. You're not too morbid... you just believe that you can't enjoy life without exorcising a few demons first! At your best, you are brave, intense, and fearless. Not only do you face the abyss head on - you challenge your friends to do the same. At your worst, you are depressed and morose. If you're not careful, your thoughts take over your mind... and they aren't pretty! |
| You Are Sunrise |
 You enjoy living a slow, fulfilling life. You enjoy living every moment, no matter how ordinary. You are a person of reflection and meditation. You start and end every day by looking inward. Caring and giving, you enjoy making people happy. You're often cooking for friends or buying them gifts. All in all, you know how to love life for what it is - not for how it should be. |
| You Are a Centaur |
 In general, you are a very cautious and reserved person. However, you are also warm hearted, and you enjoy helping others in practical ways. You are a great teacher, and you are really good at helping people get their lives in order. You are very intuitive, and you go with your gut. You make good decisions easily. |
A Question of Trust
Who do you trust?”
With this slogan, John Howard propelled the Coalition to victory at the last election. When the Coalition also achieved the rare feat of gaining control of the Senate, Howard assured Australians that he would not abuse the power that had been placed in his hands.
But as another election approaches, it seems the Coalition has been hoisted on the petard of its own sloganeering. And the hoisting has come from a most unexpected direction: industrial relations.
The introduction, in 2006, of the Workchoices legislation - the Howard government’s blueprint for industrial reform - was always bound to be controversial. But instead of the anticipated campaign of industrial protest, which could be relied on to generate temporary attention before fading away, the union movement has responded with a clever media assault that has both resonated with the public and left the government wrong-footed. Not even big business’ deep pockets have been able to reverse the contribution which industrial relations has made to the Howard government’s slide in the polls.
Trust is at the heart of the industrial relations debate. When John Howard promised not to abuse his Senate majority, he was building on the covenant he had constructed with the Australian “mainstream” at earlier elections: loyalty at the ballot-box in exchange for protection of “mainstream” interests. Had he limited the scope of Workchoices to sidelining the union movement, he could arguably have escaped any perception of broken promises; but by enacting legislation that has so completely skewed the employment relationship in favour of employers, he has betrayed his own covenant.
The union movement has seized upon this breach to drive home the message that, under Workchoices, everyone is vulnerable. Their method is simple and effective: real-life case-histories narrated by the individuals concerned, chronicling the loss of conditions and jobs as employers take advantage of Workchoices to refashion the industrial landscape.
The government and business response has been expensive and ineffective. Lavishly produced commercials depicting mythologically happy workplaces cannot match the gritty realism of rural workers standing in the middle of arid landscape saying: “Out here, jobs aren’t that easy to find.” Unions know it is easier to play on fears than it is to build up hopes - this, afterall, is the same formula that has ensured John Howard’s repeated electoral success. But when a sense of betrayal is added to fear, slick commercialism serves only to reinforce the point the union movement has been making to anyone who‘ll listen: the Howard government cannot be trusted.
It is clear from the latest government-business offensive that the lessons of 2006 have not been learned. A new batch of commercials have been produced insisting employment conditions are protected as a matter of “fact”; that the effect of Workchoices has been an equal prosperity for employers and employees; and warning against thuggish union officials armed with industrial power. But what the Howard government and its business allies have failed to realise is that, in an atmosphere of distrust, such claims appear only as propaganda; by asserting so fervently that all is well under Workchoices, they in fact beg the question of whether or not this is actually the case.
Especially when every instance of workers having their conditions stripped or losing their jobs receives widespread media attention. And when studies by reputable academic institutions repeatedly demonstrate that the net effect of individual contracts is to cause a reduction in conditions, commercials insisting that the contrary is “fact” simply appear dishonest.
Had the Howard government been more discerning, it might have run commercials admitting its mistakes and pointing to initiatives such as the “fairness test” as proof it was committed to creating a balanced system. As a strategy, this involves some risk; but Howard’s hopes for re-election rest on re-establishing the trust of the “mainstream”. A display of humility might just have done so.
However, it’s unlikely such honesty will be forthcoming. John Howard’s determination to re-shape the Australian economy in the neo-liberal mould will admit of no mistakes. In the meantime, the “mainstream” on which Howard has built his political support has lost its trust in him - not least because the harsh reality of life under Workchoices belies the chimeral promises of the government’s media campaign.
Talk to you soon,
BB
Quote for the Day: A politician is someone who believes you don't have to fool the people all the time - just during election campaigns. (Stanley Davis)
With this slogan, John Howard propelled the Coalition to victory at the last election. When the Coalition also achieved the rare feat of gaining control of the Senate, Howard assured Australians that he would not abuse the power that had been placed in his hands.
But as another election approaches, it seems the Coalition has been hoisted on the petard of its own sloganeering. And the hoisting has come from a most unexpected direction: industrial relations.
The introduction, in 2006, of the Workchoices legislation - the Howard government’s blueprint for industrial reform - was always bound to be controversial. But instead of the anticipated campaign of industrial protest, which could be relied on to generate temporary attention before fading away, the union movement has responded with a clever media assault that has both resonated with the public and left the government wrong-footed. Not even big business’ deep pockets have been able to reverse the contribution which industrial relations has made to the Howard government’s slide in the polls.
Trust is at the heart of the industrial relations debate. When John Howard promised not to abuse his Senate majority, he was building on the covenant he had constructed with the Australian “mainstream” at earlier elections: loyalty at the ballot-box in exchange for protection of “mainstream” interests. Had he limited the scope of Workchoices to sidelining the union movement, he could arguably have escaped any perception of broken promises; but by enacting legislation that has so completely skewed the employment relationship in favour of employers, he has betrayed his own covenant.
The union movement has seized upon this breach to drive home the message that, under Workchoices, everyone is vulnerable. Their method is simple and effective: real-life case-histories narrated by the individuals concerned, chronicling the loss of conditions and jobs as employers take advantage of Workchoices to refashion the industrial landscape.
The government and business response has been expensive and ineffective. Lavishly produced commercials depicting mythologically happy workplaces cannot match the gritty realism of rural workers standing in the middle of arid landscape saying: “Out here, jobs aren’t that easy to find.” Unions know it is easier to play on fears than it is to build up hopes - this, afterall, is the same formula that has ensured John Howard’s repeated electoral success. But when a sense of betrayal is added to fear, slick commercialism serves only to reinforce the point the union movement has been making to anyone who‘ll listen: the Howard government cannot be trusted.
It is clear from the latest government-business offensive that the lessons of 2006 have not been learned. A new batch of commercials have been produced insisting employment conditions are protected as a matter of “fact”; that the effect of Workchoices has been an equal prosperity for employers and employees; and warning against thuggish union officials armed with industrial power. But what the Howard government and its business allies have failed to realise is that, in an atmosphere of distrust, such claims appear only as propaganda; by asserting so fervently that all is well under Workchoices, they in fact beg the question of whether or not this is actually the case.
Especially when every instance of workers having their conditions stripped or losing their jobs receives widespread media attention. And when studies by reputable academic institutions repeatedly demonstrate that the net effect of individual contracts is to cause a reduction in conditions, commercials insisting that the contrary is “fact” simply appear dishonest.
Had the Howard government been more discerning, it might have run commercials admitting its mistakes and pointing to initiatives such as the “fairness test” as proof it was committed to creating a balanced system. As a strategy, this involves some risk; but Howard’s hopes for re-election rest on re-establishing the trust of the “mainstream”. A display of humility might just have done so.
However, it’s unlikely such honesty will be forthcoming. John Howard’s determination to re-shape the Australian economy in the neo-liberal mould will admit of no mistakes. In the meantime, the “mainstream” on which Howard has built his political support has lost its trust in him - not least because the harsh reality of life under Workchoices belies the chimeral promises of the government’s media campaign.
Talk to you soon,
BB
Quote for the Day: A politician is someone who believes you don't have to fool the people all the time - just during election campaigns. (Stanley Davis)
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
The Envelope Please...
Yesterday afternoon, as I was coming home from another day at uni, I turned the corner into my street, and as I strolled toward home, saw the postie pulling away from my letterbox, having stuffed a fistful of mail into the box.
Now I wonder, I thought, could that be....?
I was expecting a letter. Indeed, I was expecting two letters, one for myself, the other for my Dearly Beloved. They were advices from the Uniting Church in Australia's Victorian-Tasmanian Synod telling us whether or not we had been affirmed as candidates to the ordained ministry.
I'll be honest with you here: I had been sweating on this letter. And the reason was that I frankly thought it would be bad news: the answer would be, well, if not no exactly, then not yet. I was expecting the Synod to say that while they recognised I had a genuine call to ministry, I needed to further develop the graces and giftings by which that call was accompanied, and re-apply for affirmation at a later date.
Why was I thinking this way? Not because I thought I'd had a particularly bad time at the Selection Conference, which had been held over the course of the weekend just passed. The questioning had been close and intensive, at times a little confronting, and the role-playing scenarios were conducted in the fish-bowl like atmosphere of constant scrutiny by the Selection Panel. But I thought I had more than held my own. Rather, as the weekend progressed, I developed the nagging suspicion that the Panel members thought that I needed more exposure to the wider Uniting Church, that as a prospective ministry candidate I was perhaps a little "under done"; there seemed a definite "theme" developing which underlay the questions I was being asked.
Mind you, I certainly understood why this might be the case. Compared to my Dearly Beloved, I have been a member of the Uniting Church for a relatively short period of time, having undergone my own journey of faith that involved growing up a Catholic, becoming alienated from Catholicism in my late teens, spending most of my twenties wrestling with matters of faith and church, before finally entering the Uniting Church in my thirties. Under these circumstances, the church were perfectly entitled to enquire about the depth of my faith and conviction, and whether or not I was truly responding to a call of God on my life, or if I was applying to candidate for other reasons.
And so I was given a good grilling by the Panel members. As I say, I was of the belief that I withstood the pressure and responded effectively; but whether this would be enough to overcome any misgivings was a completely open question. I came away from he conference completely unsure of what to think.
At least, that was the case in respect of myself; about my Dearly Beloved I had no doubts whatsoever. She performed brilliantly over the course the weekend, going from strength to strength. That she would be affirmed I had no doubts whatsoever.
So, as the postie zipped past me on his motorbike and I approached the letterbox, a small quiver of mingled hope and unease fluttered through my nervous system. Had I passed this final test of what had been a long and exhaustive process; or would I fall at the final hurdle? Or would I have to wait another 24 hours to learn my fate?
The letters from Synod were waiting in the letterbox. With fumbling fingers, I opened the envelope. Within the Express Post envelope was an ordinary mail envelope. I opened this second envelope and wrenched open the letter within.
It is with joy that we affirm your sense of call and acknowledge the gifts and graces you bring to ministry...
I had made it! The Synod had accepted my application! Woo-hoo!
I called my Dearly Beloved to convey the news to her, as well as the entirely expected result that she, too, had also been affirmed by the Selection Panel. Then a round of phone calls to family and friends, especially Jim and Ris who supported us through the weekend, and Ian and Margery who provided us with some much-needed time-out on Saturday night. And also to our local minister, Ian, who has been such a wonderful fount of support and grace through the application process.
Now that the euphoria has died, I realise that the hard work begins now. Three years (at least) of formation and training at Theological Hall, over and above my BTheol degree studies, as well as congregational placements and, ultimately, a year as an intern before I can be ordained. Moreover, I am deeply conscious of the trust and responsibility that has devolved upon me. But it will be wonderful having my Dearly Beloved with me at Hall; and with humility, hard work, and a little grace, this new beginning will lead to many wonderful and faith-affirming experiences.
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: No man is so completely happy that something somewhere does not clash with his condition. It is the nature of human affairs to be fraught with anxiety; they never prosper perfectly, and they never remain constant. (Boethius)
Now I wonder, I thought, could that be....?
I was expecting a letter. Indeed, I was expecting two letters, one for myself, the other for my Dearly Beloved. They were advices from the Uniting Church in Australia's Victorian-Tasmanian Synod telling us whether or not we had been affirmed as candidates to the ordained ministry.
I'll be honest with you here: I had been sweating on this letter. And the reason was that I frankly thought it would be bad news: the answer would be, well, if not no exactly, then not yet. I was expecting the Synod to say that while they recognised I had a genuine call to ministry, I needed to further develop the graces and giftings by which that call was accompanied, and re-apply for affirmation at a later date.
Why was I thinking this way? Not because I thought I'd had a particularly bad time at the Selection Conference, which had been held over the course of the weekend just passed. The questioning had been close and intensive, at times a little confronting, and the role-playing scenarios were conducted in the fish-bowl like atmosphere of constant scrutiny by the Selection Panel. But I thought I had more than held my own. Rather, as the weekend progressed, I developed the nagging suspicion that the Panel members thought that I needed more exposure to the wider Uniting Church, that as a prospective ministry candidate I was perhaps a little "under done"; there seemed a definite "theme" developing which underlay the questions I was being asked.
Mind you, I certainly understood why this might be the case. Compared to my Dearly Beloved, I have been a member of the Uniting Church for a relatively short period of time, having undergone my own journey of faith that involved growing up a Catholic, becoming alienated from Catholicism in my late teens, spending most of my twenties wrestling with matters of faith and church, before finally entering the Uniting Church in my thirties. Under these circumstances, the church were perfectly entitled to enquire about the depth of my faith and conviction, and whether or not I was truly responding to a call of God on my life, or if I was applying to candidate for other reasons.
And so I was given a good grilling by the Panel members. As I say, I was of the belief that I withstood the pressure and responded effectively; but whether this would be enough to overcome any misgivings was a completely open question. I came away from he conference completely unsure of what to think.
At least, that was the case in respect of myself; about my Dearly Beloved I had no doubts whatsoever. She performed brilliantly over the course the weekend, going from strength to strength. That she would be affirmed I had no doubts whatsoever.
So, as the postie zipped past me on his motorbike and I approached the letterbox, a small quiver of mingled hope and unease fluttered through my nervous system. Had I passed this final test of what had been a long and exhaustive process; or would I fall at the final hurdle? Or would I have to wait another 24 hours to learn my fate?
The letters from Synod were waiting in the letterbox. With fumbling fingers, I opened the envelope. Within the Express Post envelope was an ordinary mail envelope. I opened this second envelope and wrenched open the letter within.
It is with joy that we affirm your sense of call and acknowledge the gifts and graces you bring to ministry...
I had made it! The Synod had accepted my application! Woo-hoo!
I called my Dearly Beloved to convey the news to her, as well as the entirely expected result that she, too, had also been affirmed by the Selection Panel. Then a round of phone calls to family and friends, especially Jim and Ris who supported us through the weekend, and Ian and Margery who provided us with some much-needed time-out on Saturday night. And also to our local minister, Ian, who has been such a wonderful fount of support and grace through the application process.
Now that the euphoria has died, I realise that the hard work begins now. Three years (at least) of formation and training at Theological Hall, over and above my BTheol degree studies, as well as congregational placements and, ultimately, a year as an intern before I can be ordained. Moreover, I am deeply conscious of the trust and responsibility that has devolved upon me. But it will be wonderful having my Dearly Beloved with me at Hall; and with humility, hard work, and a little grace, this new beginning will lead to many wonderful and faith-affirming experiences.
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: No man is so completely happy that something somewhere does not clash with his condition. It is the nature of human affairs to be fraught with anxiety; they never prosper perfectly, and they never remain constant. (Boethius)
Friday, September 07, 2007
What A Week!
This has been the week from hell.
As you will recall from my last missive, I had to undergo surgery on my left eye last Friday due to the fact that the retina in said eye decided right now would be a good time to detach - again. I've always said that the universe has a sense of humour, and that while we mightn't always see the humour in the gag, at least we could draw consolation from being the butt of cosmic jokes beyond our control. But seriously, folks, this time I'm going to complain to the gag writer!
The surgery itself went fine: accompanied by my Dearly Beloved, we bowled up to the Royal Eye and Ear Hospital in Melbourne at the appointed time. My last conscious thought as they put me under was that the anesthetic nurse's gloves smelled; the next thing I know, I was being encouraged to wake up and tilt my head to the left as far as I could. The significance of that last instruction will shortly become obvious.
As with the last time, the staff were superb. The nurses were compassionate and attentive, the surgery team were calm and encouraging, and the catering and ancillary staff were cheerful and considerate. Just one more demonstration of how incredibly fortunate we are in Australia to have a functioning public health system; and how we must guard this precious resource from being dismantled into an American-style health-care for the wealthy dysfunction.
Of course, retinal surgery is a fairly significant procedure, so I wasn't expecting to come out of the surgery without some discomfort. But, as I knew from last year's experience, this would quickly wear off, leaving me to deal with the more gruelling rigours of the recovery process itself. And this is why that instruction, as I emerged from he anesthetic fug, to tilt my head to the left became significant. Because, unlike last year, when I had to lie on my stomach for a week to aid the healing process, this time I had to lie on my left side. All the time. For a week. I couldn't lie on my back or my right side or my stomach; only on my left side, with just ten or so minutes every hour for the purposes of getting up and stretching my limbs and obtaining some relief.
Well, it was sheer agony. Lying on my stomach last year put a lot of pressure on my lower back, but that could be countered by stuffing a few pillows under my hips to flex my spine. This time, however, there was no relief, and the pain was spread over a series of pressure points: face, neck, shoulder, and hip. And all on the left side.
By the third day, my whole body was throbbing with pain. My face ached, my neck ached, my shoulders and hips ached: even my bones ached, throbbing with a deep seated pain that made me wonder if this was what it was like having leukemia or being a bone marrow doner. It got to the point when the only comfortable condition was unconsciousness - but even that was an elusive bliss, because the pain completely destroyed my sleep patterns, necessitating my retreat first to the sofa bed in the spare room; then, when that became unendurable because of its metal frame, the couch in the living room.
And to top it all off, I was suffering from caffeine withdrawal, owing to the fact that I hadn't had any coffee since the Saturday after the operation. Not that I drink much coffee as it is, but even a lifetime of moderate usage was enough to provoke crippling headaches to go along with all the other malaises as a consequence of my not imbibing. A compelling cause for reflection on the power of addiction!
All of this would have been bad enough were it not for the addition of the hours that just dragged past in empty procession. I couldn't read, couldn't watch TV, couldn't do anything to occupy my mind except listen to the radio and mark off the passage of time via program changes and hourly news updates. I practically colonised the lounge-room, with pillow, doona, and radio, the latter my only weapon for combating the empty desolation of enforced idleness. Thank heaven for Radio National is all I can say!
Not that this week has been a walk in the park for my Dearly Beloved. She was unwell herself over the weekend and at the beginning of the week; and since she is a secondary school teacher, the year is rapidly approaching the business end of the calendar, with final exams and all the pressures and anxieties of stressed students. To make matters worse, my chronic insomnia has played havoc with her own need for regular sleep.
Sooooo - here we are at the end of a pretty awful week, both exhausted, both not exactly in tip-top shape, and both of us having to face the Uniting Church Victorian-Tasmanian Synod Selection Conference for people applying to candidate to the ordained ministry. This is the apogee of a long process for both of us: the final stage of the church's discernment of our sense of call to ordained ministry. After this weekend, which is an intense series of interviews, presentations, and role plays, the Church will decide whether or not it discerns our call to ministry, and whether or not as a consequence it will accept our applications to candidate.
You'd think all this would be enough to terminally depress a person and put them off the whole project altogether. Except for the fact that my Dearly Beloved and I have had the terrific pastoral support and care of our minister, Ian, and of the North Ringwood Uniting Church community; we've had lots of encouragement and best wishes from friends, family, and acquaintances; and, most importantly, we'll have the support of our friends Ris and Jim at the Selection Conference, and also of Ian and Margery by way of a dinner debrief on Saturday night. All of these examples of care and support have buoyed our spirits; but most of all, we are committed to our respective and shared sense of vocation to serve in God's ministry, and we trust that God's ineffable presence in Christ and the Holy Spirit will help the Church discern our call.
Talk to you soon,
BB
Quote for the Day: Fortune has not yet turned her hatred against all your blessings. The storm has not yet broken upon you with too much violence. Your anchors are holding firm, and they permit you both comfort in the present, and hope in the future. (Boethius)
As you will recall from my last missive, I had to undergo surgery on my left eye last Friday due to the fact that the retina in said eye decided right now would be a good time to detach - again. I've always said that the universe has a sense of humour, and that while we mightn't always see the humour in the gag, at least we could draw consolation from being the butt of cosmic jokes beyond our control. But seriously, folks, this time I'm going to complain to the gag writer!
The surgery itself went fine: accompanied by my Dearly Beloved, we bowled up to the Royal Eye and Ear Hospital in Melbourne at the appointed time. My last conscious thought as they put me under was that the anesthetic nurse's gloves smelled; the next thing I know, I was being encouraged to wake up and tilt my head to the left as far as I could. The significance of that last instruction will shortly become obvious.
As with the last time, the staff were superb. The nurses were compassionate and attentive, the surgery team were calm and encouraging, and the catering and ancillary staff were cheerful and considerate. Just one more demonstration of how incredibly fortunate we are in Australia to have a functioning public health system; and how we must guard this precious resource from being dismantled into an American-style health-care for the wealthy dysfunction.
Of course, retinal surgery is a fairly significant procedure, so I wasn't expecting to come out of the surgery without some discomfort. But, as I knew from last year's experience, this would quickly wear off, leaving me to deal with the more gruelling rigours of the recovery process itself. And this is why that instruction, as I emerged from he anesthetic fug, to tilt my head to the left became significant. Because, unlike last year, when I had to lie on my stomach for a week to aid the healing process, this time I had to lie on my left side. All the time. For a week. I couldn't lie on my back or my right side or my stomach; only on my left side, with just ten or so minutes every hour for the purposes of getting up and stretching my limbs and obtaining some relief.
Well, it was sheer agony. Lying on my stomach last year put a lot of pressure on my lower back, but that could be countered by stuffing a few pillows under my hips to flex my spine. This time, however, there was no relief, and the pain was spread over a series of pressure points: face, neck, shoulder, and hip. And all on the left side.
By the third day, my whole body was throbbing with pain. My face ached, my neck ached, my shoulders and hips ached: even my bones ached, throbbing with a deep seated pain that made me wonder if this was what it was like having leukemia or being a bone marrow doner. It got to the point when the only comfortable condition was unconsciousness - but even that was an elusive bliss, because the pain completely destroyed my sleep patterns, necessitating my retreat first to the sofa bed in the spare room; then, when that became unendurable because of its metal frame, the couch in the living room.
And to top it all off, I was suffering from caffeine withdrawal, owing to the fact that I hadn't had any coffee since the Saturday after the operation. Not that I drink much coffee as it is, but even a lifetime of moderate usage was enough to provoke crippling headaches to go along with all the other malaises as a consequence of my not imbibing. A compelling cause for reflection on the power of addiction!
All of this would have been bad enough were it not for the addition of the hours that just dragged past in empty procession. I couldn't read, couldn't watch TV, couldn't do anything to occupy my mind except listen to the radio and mark off the passage of time via program changes and hourly news updates. I practically colonised the lounge-room, with pillow, doona, and radio, the latter my only weapon for combating the empty desolation of enforced idleness. Thank heaven for Radio National is all I can say!
Not that this week has been a walk in the park for my Dearly Beloved. She was unwell herself over the weekend and at the beginning of the week; and since she is a secondary school teacher, the year is rapidly approaching the business end of the calendar, with final exams and all the pressures and anxieties of stressed students. To make matters worse, my chronic insomnia has played havoc with her own need for regular sleep.
Sooooo - here we are at the end of a pretty awful week, both exhausted, both not exactly in tip-top shape, and both of us having to face the Uniting Church Victorian-Tasmanian Synod Selection Conference for people applying to candidate to the ordained ministry. This is the apogee of a long process for both of us: the final stage of the church's discernment of our sense of call to ordained ministry. After this weekend, which is an intense series of interviews, presentations, and role plays, the Church will decide whether or not it discerns our call to ministry, and whether or not as a consequence it will accept our applications to candidate.
You'd think all this would be enough to terminally depress a person and put them off the whole project altogether. Except for the fact that my Dearly Beloved and I have had the terrific pastoral support and care of our minister, Ian, and of the North Ringwood Uniting Church community; we've had lots of encouragement and best wishes from friends, family, and acquaintances; and, most importantly, we'll have the support of our friends Ris and Jim at the Selection Conference, and also of Ian and Margery by way of a dinner debrief on Saturday night. All of these examples of care and support have buoyed our spirits; but most of all, we are committed to our respective and shared sense of vocation to serve in God's ministry, and we trust that God's ineffable presence in Christ and the Holy Spirit will help the Church discern our call.
Talk to you soon,
BB
Quote for the Day: Fortune has not yet turned her hatred against all your blessings. The storm has not yet broken upon you with too much violence. Your anchors are holding firm, and they permit you both comfort in the present, and hope in the future. (Boethius)
Thursday, August 30, 2007
A Brief Interlude
I'm afraid I'm going to be off air for a short interlude.
Last weekend, the retina in my left eye decided it would be a good time to detach itself from the rest of the eye, necessitating my having to undergo surgery tomorrow. Mildly inconvenient, given my Dearly Beloved and I are scheduled to attend the Selection Conference of the Victorian-Tasmanian Synod of the Uniting Church in Australia the weekend after next - the final stage of our applications to candidate to the ordained ministry!
Who says the universe doesn't have a sense of humour?
While the operation itself is only a day procedure, I'll not only end up looking like I've gone ten rounds with Muhammad Ali, the restricted vision will militate against me being able to put up any posts for a while.
But fear not - normal service shall be resumed shortly. So I'll see you on the flip side once my own personal approximation of 20:20 vision has been restored.
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: In the country of the blind, the one-eyed man is king. (Erasmus)
Last weekend, the retina in my left eye decided it would be a good time to detach itself from the rest of the eye, necessitating my having to undergo surgery tomorrow. Mildly inconvenient, given my Dearly Beloved and I are scheduled to attend the Selection Conference of the Victorian-Tasmanian Synod of the Uniting Church in Australia the weekend after next - the final stage of our applications to candidate to the ordained ministry!
Who says the universe doesn't have a sense of humour?
While the operation itself is only a day procedure, I'll not only end up looking like I've gone ten rounds with Muhammad Ali, the restricted vision will militate against me being able to put up any posts for a while.
But fear not - normal service shall be resumed shortly. So I'll see you on the flip side once my own personal approximation of 20:20 vision has been restored.
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: In the country of the blind, the one-eyed man is king. (Erasmus)
Monday, August 27, 2007
Language, please!
This weekend just gone, my Dearly Beloved and I played host to Jason, a Chinese teacher presently in Australia on an exchange visit.
Jason teaches English at a school in central China; most young Chinese are keen to get ahead in life and live a more "luxurious" Western lifestyle, so having good English skills is seen as vital to getting the kind of employment that can facilitate this ambition. My Dearly Beloved, being amongst other things, an Australian who teaches Chinese to young Australians wanting to learn a second language, has taken a number of student groups over to China to provide some cultural context to the language. The school at which Jason teaches and my Dearly Beloved's school have a sister school relationship; and so, this weekend, we showed Jason some of the sights of Melbourne.
It has been an interesting experience meeting Jason. He English skills are very good, and he displays a quick-wittedness and sense of humour in English that can take you unawares because of his normally gentle and disarming manner. For example, Jason very kindly offered to cook us dinner on Saturday night, and whipped up a beautiful dish of stir-fried noodles, vegetables, and lamb. As I was watching him expertly stir the food in the wok with a pair of chopsticks, I decided to be a smart-arse and said:
"What is it with Chinese civilisation? You guys invented paper, and gunpowder, and government, and a whole heap of other stuff. How come you never invented the knife and fork?"
A slow smile spread across Jason's face, and without taking his eyes off the wok, he said quietly: "I don't know. How come you guys never learned to use chopsticks?"
I had to laugh. Not only was it a great comeback, it also made a cogent point: us Westerners have learned lot of things from Chinese civilisation, yet those aspects which we've never managed to make our own we have tended to adopt a rather superior attitude towards. Jason's riposte was a lovely little lesson in humility.
Mind you, it appears that the Australian idiom has been causing Jason some head-scratching moments. As we were eating the meal Jason had prepared, and were engaging in general conversation, he asked in his usual unassuming manner: "Can you tell me what wanker means?"
I nearly chocked on my noodles. Oh dear, I thought, some of the kids at school have been introducing Jason to the local colloquialisms...
Fortunately, my Dearly Beloved was able to explain the meaning using a compound Chinese term that meant "to use by hand" and "the airplane" (I'm sure you'll be able to work it out!). Don't ask me how she knew; I don't want to know! Jason considered my Dearly Beloved's explanation for a moment, then enquired: "So if we're driving somewhere, and someone in another car does something stupid, I should call him a wanker?"
We hastily assured him that he should not do so - not unless he wants to risk getting into trouble!
Jason has dubbed me Wenlong, which (very roughly) means "wise dragon". My Dearly Beloved is Li Shan, or "beautiful mountain". Jason is "Golden Monkey" - I'm still trying to get my head (and tongue) around the Chinese for that! But it was very pleasant hosting him for the weekend, and as he'll be here for a few more weeks, I'm sure there will be further opportunities to help each other around the traps and pitfalls of our respective languages!
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: The instant a wise man understands that he is wise, he becomes a fool. (Confucius)
Jason teaches English at a school in central China; most young Chinese are keen to get ahead in life and live a more "luxurious" Western lifestyle, so having good English skills is seen as vital to getting the kind of employment that can facilitate this ambition. My Dearly Beloved, being amongst other things, an Australian who teaches Chinese to young Australians wanting to learn a second language, has taken a number of student groups over to China to provide some cultural context to the language. The school at which Jason teaches and my Dearly Beloved's school have a sister school relationship; and so, this weekend, we showed Jason some of the sights of Melbourne.
It has been an interesting experience meeting Jason. He English skills are very good, and he displays a quick-wittedness and sense of humour in English that can take you unawares because of his normally gentle and disarming manner. For example, Jason very kindly offered to cook us dinner on Saturday night, and whipped up a beautiful dish of stir-fried noodles, vegetables, and lamb. As I was watching him expertly stir the food in the wok with a pair of chopsticks, I decided to be a smart-arse and said:
"What is it with Chinese civilisation? You guys invented paper, and gunpowder, and government, and a whole heap of other stuff. How come you never invented the knife and fork?"
A slow smile spread across Jason's face, and without taking his eyes off the wok, he said quietly: "I don't know. How come you guys never learned to use chopsticks?"
I had to laugh. Not only was it a great comeback, it also made a cogent point: us Westerners have learned lot of things from Chinese civilisation, yet those aspects which we've never managed to make our own we have tended to adopt a rather superior attitude towards. Jason's riposte was a lovely little lesson in humility.
Mind you, it appears that the Australian idiom has been causing Jason some head-scratching moments. As we were eating the meal Jason had prepared, and were engaging in general conversation, he asked in his usual unassuming manner: "Can you tell me what wanker means?"
I nearly chocked on my noodles. Oh dear, I thought, some of the kids at school have been introducing Jason to the local colloquialisms...
Fortunately, my Dearly Beloved was able to explain the meaning using a compound Chinese term that meant "to use by hand" and "the airplane" (I'm sure you'll be able to work it out!). Don't ask me how she knew; I don't want to know! Jason considered my Dearly Beloved's explanation for a moment, then enquired: "So if we're driving somewhere, and someone in another car does something stupid, I should call him a wanker?"
We hastily assured him that he should not do so - not unless he wants to risk getting into trouble!
Jason has dubbed me Wenlong, which (very roughly) means "wise dragon". My Dearly Beloved is Li Shan, or "beautiful mountain". Jason is "Golden Monkey" - I'm still trying to get my head (and tongue) around the Chinese for that! But it was very pleasant hosting him for the weekend, and as he'll be here for a few more weeks, I'm sure there will be further opportunities to help each other around the traps and pitfalls of our respective languages!
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: The instant a wise man understands that he is wise, he becomes a fool. (Confucius)
Monday, August 20, 2007
Agape Service
Last night, my Dearly Beloved and I (aided and abetted by our trusty band of liturgical co-conspirators at Ringwood North Uniting Church) led an Agape Service. This service was part of a series of monthly services which we've titled "Pilgrimage Services" - both to reflect our individual and communal journey of faith, and to highlight the fact that these services have been a deliberate exploration of the rich tradition of Christian prayer and worship styles.
The agape (pronounced a-gah-pay, from the Koine Greek meaning love) is one of the most ancient traditions in Christianity, stretching back to the period of the early church community when there was no institutional church. Instead, Christians would gather at someone's home and celebrate their faith through a communal meal that commemorated both the Last Supper and the fellowship of their faith community.
For the purposes of this service, we borrowed heavily from the wonderful Iona Abbey Worship Book, which itself is a product of the Iona Community in Scotland. The Worship Book had lots of resources for Agape Services, including prayers and service structure, and we both drew on these and constructed the service in our own way with PowerPoint presentations, music, recordings, and periods of meditative silence. We also included a simple meal of soup (my Dearly Beloved made pumpkin, while Murray, one of our number, provided minestrone) and bread and water. We then followed with a communion that, instead of containing a formal liturgy, simply involved the group sharing delicious oatmeal cookies (thanks Nicola!) and grape juice; our minister, Ian, spoke a simple but powerful blessing, and we partook of the elements.
The group ate and drank in a deep, contemplative silence in which the bond of unity and sense of community were almost physical. There was a truly wonderful sense of spiritual presence, of the love and grace of God. I have always believed in the KISS principle, and last night helped reinforce my sense that the simple is so often the most profound and moving.
In lots of ways, it was an appropriate occasion. Earlier that day, my Dearly Beloved and I attended the wedding of our friends Bron and Fletch. It was a lovely service, elegant but uncomplicated, achieved with a real depth of emotion and occasion. And during the regular service that morning, my Dearly Beloved had cleverly used the classic Dr Seuss story, Horton Hatches an Egg, during the Children's Service to illustrate the themes of faith and commitment. So to finish off the day with an Agape Service felt like a more than germane bookend to the events of the day.
And it's always instructive what you can learn from others. One of the participants jokingly quipped that it was disappointing that we weren't reclining - a reminder of the fact that, during the early Christian period, such meals as the Agape would have been eaten while reclining, not sitting. And during a conversation with another participant, I learned that the Lindisfarne Community in northern England have also produced a Worship Book that contains lots of resources for community worship. I reckon the odds are pretty good my Dearly Beloved and I will be checking out - and making use of - this book in the near future!
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: The greatest truths are the simplest; and so are the greatest men. (Julius & Augustus Hare)
The agape (pronounced a-gah-pay, from the Koine Greek meaning love) is one of the most ancient traditions in Christianity, stretching back to the period of the early church community when there was no institutional church. Instead, Christians would gather at someone's home and celebrate their faith through a communal meal that commemorated both the Last Supper and the fellowship of their faith community.
For the purposes of this service, we borrowed heavily from the wonderful Iona Abbey Worship Book, which itself is a product of the Iona Community in Scotland. The Worship Book had lots of resources for Agape Services, including prayers and service structure, and we both drew on these and constructed the service in our own way with PowerPoint presentations, music, recordings, and periods of meditative silence. We also included a simple meal of soup (my Dearly Beloved made pumpkin, while Murray, one of our number, provided minestrone) and bread and water. We then followed with a communion that, instead of containing a formal liturgy, simply involved the group sharing delicious oatmeal cookies (thanks Nicola!) and grape juice; our minister, Ian, spoke a simple but powerful blessing, and we partook of the elements.
The group ate and drank in a deep, contemplative silence in which the bond of unity and sense of community were almost physical. There was a truly wonderful sense of spiritual presence, of the love and grace of God. I have always believed in the KISS principle, and last night helped reinforce my sense that the simple is so often the most profound and moving.
In lots of ways, it was an appropriate occasion. Earlier that day, my Dearly Beloved and I attended the wedding of our friends Bron and Fletch. It was a lovely service, elegant but uncomplicated, achieved with a real depth of emotion and occasion. And during the regular service that morning, my Dearly Beloved had cleverly used the classic Dr Seuss story, Horton Hatches an Egg, during the Children's Service to illustrate the themes of faith and commitment. So to finish off the day with an Agape Service felt like a more than germane bookend to the events of the day.
And it's always instructive what you can learn from others. One of the participants jokingly quipped that it was disappointing that we weren't reclining - a reminder of the fact that, during the early Christian period, such meals as the Agape would have been eaten while reclining, not sitting. And during a conversation with another participant, I learned that the Lindisfarne Community in northern England have also produced a Worship Book that contains lots of resources for community worship. I reckon the odds are pretty good my Dearly Beloved and I will be checking out - and making use of - this book in the near future!
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: The greatest truths are the simplest; and so are the greatest men. (Julius & Augustus Hare)
Thursday, August 16, 2007
By Any Other Name....
I don't really pay much attention to these blog quiz thingies (you may have noticed!) but sometimes you have to wonder whether they're not actually on to something afterall...
And this...
Or this...
And finally....
I know, I know...it's hard being this good all the time! Thanks to Avril for most of these...
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: Behind every successful man stands a surprised woman. (Maryon Pearson)
| You are a Lavender Rose |
 You represent love at first sight and enchantment. Your vibe: intense and intriguing Falling in love with you is: deep and meaningful |
And this...
| You Are 85% Grown Up, 15% Kid |
 Your emotional maturity is fully developed, and you have an excellent grasp on your emotions. In fact, you are so emotionally mature - you should consider being a therapist! |
Or this...
| What Your Favorite Color Purple Says About You: |
 Intuitive --- Seeking --- Creative Kind --- Self-Sacrificing --- Growth Oriented Strong --- Very Wise --- Rare |
And finally....
| You Are Strawberries with Cream |
 Fresh and uncomplicated, you are always enjoyed but often overlooked. You're confident in who you are. You don't need a facade to feel better about yourself. |
I know, I know...it's hard being this good all the time! Thanks to Avril for most of these...
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: Behind every successful man stands a surprised woman. (Maryon Pearson)
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Orthodoxy and Freedom
Way back in July, when my Dearly Beloved and I appeared before the Maroondah Presbytery as part of our ongoing application to candidate to the ordained ministry of the Uniting Church, I was asked by one Presbytery member how I would deal with the issue of orthodoxy and the requirement to uphold the doctrinal teaching of the church.
I was asked this question because, in the course of my presentation to the Presbytery, I had articulated my conviction that Christianity was essentially a faith of freedom. In this respect, I had described the received tradition of the Church not as the be-all-and-end-all of faith, but as its starting point, the basis from which, in the light of new information and new understanding, Christians could make their faith relevant to the present and enable it to be open to the future. In my view, tradition is not - and cannot be - that which ties us to the past; rather, it is the foundation for the future, that which enables us to take new directions and move toward new horizons.
Thus, it seemed to me that the unasked question behind the question was, given my views about Christianity as a faith of freedom, how would I accept the authority of the Church and articulate its doctrinal position?
As far as I am concerned, this is a perfectly legitimate - indeed, a necessary - question, because it asks for a clarification of what is meant by "freedom". Is the "freedom" which I believe is the core of Christian faith an anarchic liberality, a free-for-all that gives permission to individuals to believe what they choose, and act accordingly? Or is this "freedom" one that exists within a context of a particular understanding of the nature of faith, and the nature of the relation between humankind and God?
And my answer, emphatically, is the latter. Christianity is a faith that embodies a particular understanding of freedom grounded in the ministry of Christ, and of Christ as God's self-revelation in the world. But what is this particularity?
Firstly, I think the freedom of Christian faith arises from the fact that Christ came to bring humanity life, and life in abundance. Not, however, the "abundance" of so-called prosperity theology, which is the mere subordination of Christianity to free-market capitalism; nor is it the "abundance" of leading a life of ease or unending happiness, which is the yoking of faith to our wish-fulfilment. On the contrary, the abundance which Christ offers is a life lived fully, a life in which we enter into the fullness of our human nature. Moreover, it is a life in which we engage with every dimension of experience - the good, the bad, the indifferent - on the basis of faith, instead of simply using faith as a consolation for hardship or suffering. It is, in short, the experience of life in which faith is a philosophy for being, and not merely the expressed assent to doctrinal statements.
Secondly, I believe this freedom exists in a context in which doctrine and credal statements form the framework that enables the expression of freedom, instead of restricting or curtailing its expression. Thus, doctrine becomes not a cage but a launching place for the freedom of Christian faith, the basis upon which people - both individually, and as members of a faith community - can explore, question, examine, debate, and enter into the depths of faith as a lived, interior experience, instead of a mere ritualistic or formulaic process. In other words, it is a context in which freedom arises from doctrine and credal statements liberating the individual rather than confine them to a particular viewpoint or understanding.
Thirdly, I believe that the combination of the first two points - faith as a philosophy of being, and as a context in which doctrine enables the expression of freedom - combine to produce a third context: the freedom to reinterpret the past in light of new knowledge and new understanding in order to attain a deeper and richer understanding. This is innovation not as breaking with the past - which is not really innovation at all - but as drawing on the past in collaboration with new insights in order to be relevant in present contexts and open to new futures. This is the freedom to engage in innovation that honours the past and reaches toward new horizons.
Thus it is that I answered the question that was put to me by saying that the issue of orthodoxy and authority and tradition was dependent on how one viewed these aspects of the faith experience: were they chains that tied us to a dead past, or were they the foundations that enabled us to have a living present reality and also entertain prospects for future development. If the former, then orthodoxy was an oppressive weight; if the latter, then it was a liberating, life-giving force.
My view is definitely the latter.
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: To live is to change, and to be perfect is to have changed often. (Cardinal Newman)
I was asked this question because, in the course of my presentation to the Presbytery, I had articulated my conviction that Christianity was essentially a faith of freedom. In this respect, I had described the received tradition of the Church not as the be-all-and-end-all of faith, but as its starting point, the basis from which, in the light of new information and new understanding, Christians could make their faith relevant to the present and enable it to be open to the future. In my view, tradition is not - and cannot be - that which ties us to the past; rather, it is the foundation for the future, that which enables us to take new directions and move toward new horizons.
Thus, it seemed to me that the unasked question behind the question was, given my views about Christianity as a faith of freedom, how would I accept the authority of the Church and articulate its doctrinal position?
As far as I am concerned, this is a perfectly legitimate - indeed, a necessary - question, because it asks for a clarification of what is meant by "freedom". Is the "freedom" which I believe is the core of Christian faith an anarchic liberality, a free-for-all that gives permission to individuals to believe what they choose, and act accordingly? Or is this "freedom" one that exists within a context of a particular understanding of the nature of faith, and the nature of the relation between humankind and God?
And my answer, emphatically, is the latter. Christianity is a faith that embodies a particular understanding of freedom grounded in the ministry of Christ, and of Christ as God's self-revelation in the world. But what is this particularity?
Firstly, I think the freedom of Christian faith arises from the fact that Christ came to bring humanity life, and life in abundance. Not, however, the "abundance" of so-called prosperity theology, which is the mere subordination of Christianity to free-market capitalism; nor is it the "abundance" of leading a life of ease or unending happiness, which is the yoking of faith to our wish-fulfilment. On the contrary, the abundance which Christ offers is a life lived fully, a life in which we enter into the fullness of our human nature. Moreover, it is a life in which we engage with every dimension of experience - the good, the bad, the indifferent - on the basis of faith, instead of simply using faith as a consolation for hardship or suffering. It is, in short, the experience of life in which faith is a philosophy for being, and not merely the expressed assent to doctrinal statements.
Secondly, I believe this freedom exists in a context in which doctrine and credal statements form the framework that enables the expression of freedom, instead of restricting or curtailing its expression. Thus, doctrine becomes not a cage but a launching place for the freedom of Christian faith, the basis upon which people - both individually, and as members of a faith community - can explore, question, examine, debate, and enter into the depths of faith as a lived, interior experience, instead of a mere ritualistic or formulaic process. In other words, it is a context in which freedom arises from doctrine and credal statements liberating the individual rather than confine them to a particular viewpoint or understanding.
Thirdly, I believe that the combination of the first two points - faith as a philosophy of being, and as a context in which doctrine enables the expression of freedom - combine to produce a third context: the freedom to reinterpret the past in light of new knowledge and new understanding in order to attain a deeper and richer understanding. This is innovation not as breaking with the past - which is not really innovation at all - but as drawing on the past in collaboration with new insights in order to be relevant in present contexts and open to new futures. This is the freedom to engage in innovation that honours the past and reaches toward new horizons.
Thus it is that I answered the question that was put to me by saying that the issue of orthodoxy and authority and tradition was dependent on how one viewed these aspects of the faith experience: were they chains that tied us to a dead past, or were they the foundations that enabled us to have a living present reality and also entertain prospects for future development. If the former, then orthodoxy was an oppressive weight; if the latter, then it was a liberating, life-giving force.
My view is definitely the latter.
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: To live is to change, and to be perfect is to have changed often. (Cardinal Newman)
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Idle MInds...
Well, you know what they say about people with too much time on their hands! These are courtesy of Caro (she's not a good influence on me)!
Now that's seriously spooky, because I came up as Rolf (why have they spelled it Rowlf?) the Dog on another, similar Muppet Personality Test a few years ago...oh, well, onwards and downwards...
You only scored an "A" Caro...what a shame! (Sorry, my evil slip is showing, isn't it!)
This one is frankly confusing...it seems to me the "analysis" is a tad contradictory at points...And, finally, to prove I'm different (and not completely vain!)...
The meaning of all this - who knows? Or is he on first...?
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: Vanity is merely other people's pride. (Sacha Guitry)
| You Are Rowlf the Dog |
 Mellow and serious, you enjoy time alone cultivating your talents. You're a cool dog, and you always present a relaxed vibe. A talented pianist, you can play almost anything - especially songs by Beethoven. "My bark is worse than my bite, and my piano playing beats 'em both." |
Now that's seriously spooky, because I came up as Rolf (why have they spelled it Rowlf?) the Dog on another, similar Muppet Personality Test a few years ago...oh, well, onwards and downwards...
| Your Vocabulary Score: A+ |
 Congratulations on your multifarious vocabulary! You must be quite an erudite person. |
You only scored an "A" Caro...what a shame! (Sorry, my evil slip is showing, isn't it!)
| What Your Latte Says About You |
 You are very decadent in all aspects of your life. You never scale back, and you always live large. You can be quite silly at times, but you know when to buckle down and be serious. Intense and energetic, you aren't completely happy unless you are bouncing off the walls. You're addicted to caffeine. There's no denying it. You are responsible, mature, and truly an adult. You're occasionally playful, but you find it hard to be carefree. You are deep and thoughtful, but you are never withdrawn. |
This one is frankly confusing...it seems to me the "analysis" is a tad contradictory at points...And, finally, to prove I'm different (and not completely vain!)...
| You Should Rule Saturn |
 Saturn is a mysterious planet that can rarely be seen with the naked eye. You are perfect to rule Saturn because like its rings, you don't always follow the rules of nature. And like Saturn, to really be able to understand you, someone must delve beyond your appearance. You are not an easy person to befriend. However, once you enter a friendship, you'll be a friend for life. You think slowly but deeply. You only gain great understanding after a situation has past. |
The meaning of all this - who knows? Or is he on first...?
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: Vanity is merely other people's pride. (Sacha Guitry)
Saturday, August 04, 2007
Come the Revolution
I think this one redresses the balance slightly...
So there - I might be a slob, but I'm a slob with a conscience!
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: Your conscience is what your mother told you before you were six years old. (Brock Chisholm)
| You Are 12% Capitalist, 88% Socialist |
 You see a lot of injustice in the world, and you'd like to see it fixed. As far as you're concerned, all the wrong people have the power. You're strongly in favor of the redistribution of wealth - and more protection for the average person. |
So there - I might be a slob, but I'm a slob with a conscience!
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: Your conscience is what your mother told you before you were six years old. (Brock Chisholm)
Oh Dear...
Maybe I should have quit while I was ahead!
Maybe I should be getting in touch with my "inner Barney" instead of my "inner Homer"!
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: Behavioural psychology is the science of pulling habits out of rats. (Douglas Busch)
| You Are Barney |
 You could have been an intellectual leader... Instead, your whole life is an homage to beer You will be remembered for: your beautiful singing voice and your burps Your life philosophy: "There's nothing like beer to give you that inflated sense of self-esteem." |
Maybe I should be getting in touch with my "inner Barney" instead of my "inner Homer"!
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: Behavioural psychology is the science of pulling habits out of rats. (Douglas Busch)
The Evil Within...
Alright, so my promise that the last blog post quiz thingie would be the last one for today was a "non-core promise" - so make me Prime Minister of Australia, already!
However, given I told a porkie on that one, I just couldn't resist the How Evil Are You? blog quiz - and here's the result!
I'll bet the folks currently test reading the manuscript of my novel are thinking this right now, too!
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: Wickedness is simply a myth invented by good people to account for the attractiveness of ohers. (Oscar Wilde)
However, given I told a porkie on that one, I just couldn't resist the How Evil Are You? blog quiz - and here's the result!
| You Are 28% Evil |
 A bit of evil lurks in your heart, but you hide it well. In some ways, you are the most dangerous kind of evil. |
I'll bet the folks currently test reading the manuscript of my novel are thinking this right now, too!
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: Wickedness is simply a myth invented by good people to account for the attractiveness of ohers. (Oscar Wilde)
Blue Day
Okay, okay, the last blog quiz post was meant to be a one off, but then my eye got caught by the following....Frankly, I'd say I'm doing pretty well today, wouldn't you?
But this is the last one...promise!
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: A diagnosis is simply the physician's activity of determining the state of your purse in order to decide how sick to make you. (Ambrose Bierce)
| Your Inner Color is Blue |
 Your Personality: Your natural warmth and intuition nurtures those around you. You are accepting and always follow your heart. You in Love: Relationships are your top priority, and this includes love. You are most happy when you are serious with someone. Your Career: You need to help others in your job to feel satistifed. You would be a great nurse, psychologist, or counselor. |
But this is the last one...promise!
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: A diagnosis is simply the physician's activity of determining the state of your purse in order to decide how sick to make you. (Ambrose Bierce)
Stormy Weather
I've got a few things I want to get off my chest on this blog in the upcoming weeks(s), but at the moment I'm a little pre-occupied with starting second semester (and still trying to get my head around the fact that I passed New Testament Greek!), so these posts of moment are confined to the back burner for the time being.
However, just to pass the time, I did another of those blog quiz thingies, this time on the question: What Type of Weather Are You? And, I have to say, they got it absolutely right!
Read it and weep, folks!
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: Greatness is a zigzag streak of lightning in the brain. (Herbert H Asquith)
However, just to pass the time, I did another of those blog quiz thingies, this time on the question: What Type of Weather Are You? And, I have to say, they got it absolutely right!
| You Are Lightning |
 Beautiful yet dangerous People will stop and watch you when you appear Even though you're capable of random violence You are best known for: your power Your dominant state: performing |
Read it and weep, folks!
Talk to you soon,
BB.
Quote for the Day: Greatness is a zigzag streak of lightning in the brain. (Herbert H Asquith)
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