Category: the art of discipleship


Take our moments and our days…

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February 21, 2012

There is something to the rhythm of life here.  Our days are shaped by liturgy at breakfast, lunch and dinner (most days), from organic food brought at the local farmers market where we know the vendors by name, to a walk through the chaparral countryside recognising the oak trees, mallow, sage we tend in the garden (Ched has learned to take cuttings from natives).  We check the weather report daily – checking for rain (the river is empty), frost (protect the citrus and avocado trees) and while we’re there, we check the surf forecast also – checking tide, temperature and wind direction.  We do a lap of the yard almost daily – remarking on developments new buds, early blossom, pruning requirements…

I’m living more in the ‘present’ than I can remember in a long time.

In the evening we sit out by the horno (clay oven) and can see the North Star and Milky Way…

My heart is ready, O God;
I will sing your praise.
Your steadfast love is higher than the heavens,
And your faithfulness reaches to the clouds.
Be exalted, O God, above the heavens,
And let your glory shine over all the earth. (Psalm 57:5)

What does that mean? Let your glory shine…?  We talk back and forth, about animism and anarchical primitivism, I learn the difference between pantheism and panentheism and for a moment I think to myself, “what a wonderful world…”

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Sabbath Economics: Negative Capital (Debt)

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November 11, 2011

 

 

 


Sabbath Economics: Negative Capital (Debt)

In a time of global economic crises and the Occupy Wall Street campaign it is interesting to reflect on debt and the role it plays in our lives. There were an estimated 488 million debit cards and 686 million credit cards in circulation in the United States in 2009 and an estimated 36 million debit cards and 16 million credit cards in circulation in Australia. (Source: Euromonitor International, January 2010).  Historically the dominant cultural driver has been religion or government – it is currently commerce.

The Jesus movement also stood in opposition to the dominant economic model of debt bondage in his day, modelling instead what Ched Myers calls “a re-communitized economy of generalized reciprocity of sharing and cooperation” (p.34)

How much debt does your household have? What are some ways we can imagine living beyond the bondage of this debt?

Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing?

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Talitha: (Unmarried/No dependents/Renting) I was raised to live within my means – to buy things second hand, pick up a bargain when things are on special, then when that money is needed further on because the car breaks down or something the resources are there, my family wasn’t wealthy but we had ‘enough’. It was interesting to reflect on how for all of us our childhood contexts were deeply impacting on our relationship with money as adults.  How do we role model good stewardship to our own children/the children in our community when they often aren’t participants in the financial choices that we make? A debt load such as a mortgage is a really deep commitment by families to embed themselves in this neighbourhood, a stability that is vital to my own capacity to be here,  but then to service that they need to work more hours – are there ways that I could help the families in my community pay of their mortgages faster, thereby ‘freeing’ them up? What other good work might happen?

 I liked playing with the concept of a credit card slip that is a gentle reminder of the bigger cost of spending beyond the purchase price. Want one for your wallet? Send no money now, for just 3 easy purchase payments of… lol, if there’s interest I’ll make ‘em free.  Keen to think about whether we could have a bit of a communal giving account to which I transfer the money that I would otherwise have spent on something I don’t really need – if I see that money as ‘excess’ to my needs, to what better use could I be putting it? E.g. I probably get a neck & shoulder massage at the mall four-six times a year, if I made a conscious decision to do massage swaps with someone in my community instead then 1) that would probably be another way we’re able to deliberately connect and 2) this might give me $120-180 for the kitty – and a reward of this stewardship would be being able to decide together on a purpose to put that towards that benefits others.

Also recommend checking out the Christians for Occupy page, we follow a God who isn’t far away but here among us – he would have been amongst the 99% but he would have left us to go and find the 1%. Yeah, we are called to solidarity with the poor but also to invite Zaccheus to share a meal at our table, how can we keep having conversations about finance that aren’t polarising and invite others to know another layer of richness in their life – that generosity is a gift that blesses the giver as well as the receiver?

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How’s this for sabbath economics and speaking to the dominant culture?

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August 16, 2011

How’s this for sabbath economics and speaking to the powers?

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A Reflection on 1 Corinthians 13

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September 1, 2010


Of all the virtues we’ve explored,
love is surely the most comprehensive,
the most all-encompassing,
and the most slippery of them all.

What is love?

The word is used so loosely,
widely and indiscriminately,
it’s hard to pin down.
so generic is ‘love’
its substance evaporates.

I love my wife,
I love my iPhone;
I love God,
I love coffee.

Love is all you need apparently.

Love rules,
love triumphs over all.

Love obligates,
love liberates;
love is fickle,
love is strong;
love is free,
love costs;
‘greater love hath no man that this,
that he lays down his life for a friend’

We fall in love,
we make love,
we search for it on-line.

We give it generously,
sacrificially,
resentfully,
inadequately,
tentatively.

We long for love,
we dream of it;
we crave it,
we weep for it.

Love compels us,
love eludes,
confounds and distracts us.
love fulfils us and makes us sad.

Love enrages,
infuriates,
intoxicates
and blinds us.

Love lets us down,
love fails,
loves end.
And when love is lost
it leaves an ache so deep it scars.

So love is many things.

But today we celebrate the love of God.

It is a different love, a holy love.
It is also a love of complexity,
but one of such depth
and breadth
and height
and length
it renders all other loves
insignificant by comparison.

At this table we hold love in our hands:
the bread and the wine,
the body and the blood of Christ.
it is a love of such pain
and cost and sacrifice,
it leaves us speechless.

It is a love that reaches into
the depths of human experience
in all its beauty and ugliness,
it glory and depravity.

It’s a love that knows no bounds,
no limits,
no exclusions.
There’s no fine print.

It is a love that confronts,
names honestly,
forgives completely,
heals and restores.

It is perfect love.

It is this love that
1 Corinthians 13 describes,
the perfect love of God.
It is this love
we are now called to emulate.
Quite frankly, it’s beyond us.

It’s a high calling,
a big ask, this love.
it’s always patient,
always kind,
never boastful,
envious or rude.
It’s eternally selfless,
without a hint of malice,
irritation or resentment.
It rejoices in truth and transparency
no matter what the cost.
It bears all things,
believes all things,
hopes all things,
endures all things.
It never ends.

All in all, impossible really;
yet possible in the smallest of ways.

We are not called to perfection,
but we are called to follow, to try,
to keep believing when we fail,
to rise again when we fall.

Through simple words of affirmation:
‘You are precious!’
Through warm embraces
and tender brushes of the cheek;
through daily actions of welcome,
surrender and service;
by giving preference
to the meek, and the poor and the sick;
by sitting with the marginalised
and the grieving;
by speaking against wrong-doing
and unfairness.

By cooking when we don’t feel like it
persisting when we would rather resign,
forgiving when we would rather keep a grudge warm,
serving others when we would prefer to sit alone.

In all of these ways
and a thousand others,
we give hands and feet to love.
Trifling efforts they may be,
fraught with mixed motives
and uneven results.
but in our feeble efforts
at love in daily life,
we touch a love so much deeper,
so much higher,
so much more all-encompassing
than anything we can conjure up ourselves.
‘For now we see in a mirror, dimly,
but then we will see face to face.’
‘And now faith, hope and love abide,
these three: and the greatest of these is love.’

Thanks for the blessing of these words Simon Holt, CSBC

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Liminal space and the economy of God

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July 7, 2009

We take turns running prayers at the start of admin meeting and Blythe is projecting a video on the wall of bread being made: ingredients mixed, kneading, left to rise… In Matthew 13:33 Jesus says “the kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.”

Without notice the yeast begins to permeate the dough and the dough begins to rise, Jesus said “follow me” without saying where he was going but promising transformation.  A God of broken people and broken places, he asks us to leave what we know and go into wilderness desert. Far we have come, far we must go. We believe in a God of rebuilt places and rebuilt people.

This is where the concept of liminal space was first introduced to me:

 

 

We have left point A but have not arrived at point B yet.  The liminal space is the in between-ness of being neither here nor there.  These transitional phases – they are not necessarily a comfortable place to be, it is hard to know what to be sure of, but we can have a default to view change as negative and it is not always so.  God led the Israelites into the desert for 40 years, many of them complained and sought to return to the relative comfort of slavery (regular meals!) under the Egyptians. “In that way I will test them, whether they will follow my instruction or not.” (Ex 16:4) Perhaps we can begin to see these liminal spaces as an opportunity for growth and learning, with the assurance that God is with us as a broken person in a broken place.

Far we must go – but we need not go alone.

As the yeast transforms the bread, so knowing God yields subtle transformation in our lives. Be present to the transformation that is happening around you…

How would completing the sentence, “the kingdom of heaven is like…” or “the economy of God is like…”  look like in your context?

Earlier this year Samara wrote some for us, here are some that she came up with:

The Economy of God is like…

…a residents’ group who lived in the heart of the city.  One day a woman buzzed level 8 demanding assistance.  One of the residents invited her in and spent the day helping her contact Hanover, giving her access to the phones and accompanying her to apply for crisis housing.  Finally when the resident was tired and fed up after a day of being bossed around, she invited the woman over to her place for dinner.

The Economy of God is like…
…a street and hospitality group whose regular retreat campsite was destroyed by bushfire.  Some people who had experienced loss and homelessness wanted to help out, so a BBQ and cake stall was organised.  When the time came to set up the stall on Collins St, the food was all prepared but the people who’d suggested the event were not available.  Instead of cancelling, some others stepped in and ran the stall.  They sold many sausages and cupcakes, and they raised twice as much money as they had expected.  And there were two plates full of cakes left over to enjoy the next day!

The Economy of God is like…
…a youth and schools team who ran a seminar for a feisty bunch of Year 9s who thought the homeless had it easy.  When they started complaining that homeless people should have their Centrelink payments cut and go and get a job, the presenter who’d experienced homelessness explained how his 14 year old kids would end up visiting him on the street…and some of the Year 9s changed their minds!

The Economy of God is like…
…a fundraising team who went to a training day on finances.  When they got there they discovered that they were the youngest in the room by 15 years and that all the baby boomers in the room were terrified of the Global Financial Crisis.  The fundraising team spoke soothingly to them and invited them to lunch at Credo.

The Economy of God is like…
…an open meal in a basement where they invested in litres of coloured paint but no dishwasher.

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