I have just finished reading Tim Winton’s latest book “Breath“. The book is a coming of age tale with unsurprisingly, a strong theme of breathing and its association with the strangely entwined experience of both seeking to feel truly alive and soliciting death. A lesser theme that resonates in the background as consistently as the rumbling of the sea venerated by the book’s narrator is the notion of something being pointless but beautiful. Winton raises the idea that there is little room in our culture for men to engage in something that is pointless but beautiful. That apparently, is the domain of women. Except for the relationship between men and surfing. Winton’s romantic descriptions of the sheer exhilaration and beauty of catching a wave are enticing. There is something entirely wondrous and magical about being in a wild sea with the sun dancing on glossy waves. Not to mention the thrill of inter-mingled danger and beauty. I love being out in the sea with my surfboard. I can’t say I love surfing, for I would not call my messy relationship with waves and fiberglass surfing. However, I don’t think proficiency is required to understand Winton’s interest in pointless beauty. Oddly, I sense God’s presence deeply when I am being tossed about in the ocean. A strange sense of both smallness and bigness.

I agree with Winton - our culture doesn’t mind a little shallow surface beauty for both men and women - the lifeblood of the fashion industry. But beauty that invades the soul is another thing altogether. I think that this is part of what it is to be human. And maybe, it is part of what it is to reflect God. I am not saying that God is pointless but beautiful”, but to say all that God is and does (as far as we can grasp this) is all about function, achievement and outcome driven purpose seems empty. One only needs to spend a little time in nature to witness beauty that is perhaps beautiful simply for the sake of the pleasure of the beholder.

I wonder if there would be less angst in our culture, greater depth to our spirituality, and more complete expressions of man and womanhood if we allowed room for pointless beauty. Get out your surfboards, paintbrushes, guitars or walking shoes. Whatever it is that gives you glimpses of beauty.

We recently acquired Nick Cave’s new album “Dig Lazarus Dig”. I found it somewhat jarring at first. I think I prefer Cave’s ballads - to me they best suit his sultry voice and brooding subject matter. But I have to say it is growing on me. And once again he stirs me to think.The wikipedia references Cave as saying this about Lazarus and the inspiration for the title track:

“Ever since I can remember hearing the Lazarus story, when I was a kid, you know, back in church, I was disturbed and worried by it. Traumatized, actually. We are all, of course, in awe of the greatest of Christ’s miracles - raising a man from the dead - but I couldn’t help but wonder how Lazarus felt about it. As a child it gave me the creeps, to be honest. I’ve taken Lazarus and stuck him in New York City, in order to give the song, a hip, contemporary feel. I was also thinking about Harry Houdini who spent a lot of his life trying to debunk the spiritualists who were cashing in on the bereaved. He believed there was nothing going on beyond the grave. He was the second greatest escapologist, Harry was, Lazarus, of course, being the greatest. I wanted to create a kind of vehicle, a medium, for Houdini to speak to us if he so desires, you know, from beyond the grave.”

Further confirmation that the bible is full of stories that are not really “kids stuff”. Thanks Nick, for reminding us what a story might look like from the perspective of a child. Fresh life can be found in the seemingly most unlikely of places.

As this article from the Age puts it: “perhaps minstrels will convey something to us that ministers cannot”.

I am not wanting to read too much into Cave’s morbid musings about a dysfunctional Lazarus who crashes and burns with the pressure of his miraculous second go, but never-the-less, Cave’s work is rich with spirituality, and much of it speaks with a prophetic albeit uncomfortable edge.

While checking through my google reader I spotted a question that has stayed with me. Has the church in Australia (in particular that part of the body that would identify itself with the ‘emerging church’ ) strayed too far from orthodoxy in favour of orthopraxis? I think how we answer this question is significant. My first thought is to query whether or not we need to have one or the other - are they mutually exclusive? Can we think wrongly but act rightly? Can we think rightly but act wrongly? I wonder if it is a false dichotomy. Jesus both challenged and supported the orthodoxy of his time, in both how he taught and what he did. He taught as much by what he did as by what he said. In some ways, I think his actions spoke more plainly than his words. Do ours?

Historically much energy has gone into defending doctrine. As Christians we can find ourselves busy with words defining the particulars of our faith. I think we need to continue to delve into what we believe and why, wrestle with the greys and be honest enough to admit our struggles philosophically and theologically. I also find this process rather fun. But orthodoxy is often a source of division - the foundation for attacking each other, marginalising those who think differently within and without the church. Christianity that never moves from that head space does not transform or bring life. I think our culture has had enough of that presentation of “Christianity”. If as followers of Jesus we put at least as much emphasis on what we do and how we are as we do on what we think and believe, I believe that our “Christ-ianity” will be far more alive for us and for those with whom we relate. There are fewer shades of grey when we care for the poor, when we love our neighbours, when we eat and drink together, when we stand up for those who are defenseless.

The challenge for the Australian church is not how to stand on the gay issue, it is not whether or not to play Hillsong or stand in arty candle lit huddles. Moving to a cafe, adopting seeker sensitive services or becoming technological Sunday wonders is not going to cut it either. It comes down to honestly grappling with what it means to follow Jesus. Sure, that has something to do with what we think and believe, but a whole lot more to do what flows out of us in our everyday living, our work and play, caring, loving. That is our gift of worship. That is our participation in the coming of the Kingdom.

This post is part of the synchroblog which a number of Australian Christians are participating in to celebrate Australia Day. For more on Christianity In Australia, see:

Tonight I finished viewing the last installment of a series that recently aired on the ABC - “The Abbey“.  For those who missed it, it is a kind of reality tv show set in a Benedictine monastery.  It documents the personal and communal journeys of five women with diverse backgrounds, ages and personal stories as they undertake 33 days of life as Benedictine nuns.  I found it quite profound.  Most notably, the way in which each of the women encountered God through their experience.  They found the vigils hard and inflexible, constant, tiring.  But each experienced breakthroughs in their lives, release from past hurts, and greater attunement with the physical and spiritual.   As someone who wrestles with institutionalized imaginations (do those two words go together?!) of church and faith, the impact of the experience was surprising.   The nuns were not “seeker sensitive”.  They were not “cool”.  They did not use the latest technology to create amazing experiences of worship.  There was no Hillsong, Vineyard, or anything likely to have been written in the last century or so.  They did not take the women to the pub to “hang out” and discuss spirituality.  Instead they met for prayer seven times a day commencing at 4.30am, worked in the garden, earned their keep, practiced silence (even when eating).  For the nuns, the most important thing they could do was pray for the world.  To be honest, it did not look very appealing to me - at least not as a lifestyle option.  Yet these women found God.  And not shallowly.  Deep spiritual and emotional work and healing took place.   God is to be found deeply in all places.  Rituals are not dead if God is honoured through and by their practice.  And God can reveal himself profoundly in a way that brings life through what seems to be void of life and freedom.  After watching the women’s stories unfold, it seems that one of the greatest robbers of vital spirituality is clutter in our lives.  Gadgets, internet (eek on both accounts ), addiction to the instant and immediate,  crowded lives filled with stuff, events, talking, escapism, searching for meaning by filling every last moment.   We do not take time often enough to listen, to be silent, to feel the cool soil in our fingers, to watch and wait for things to grow.  Rather challenging.   

It is late and I should be in bed, but I have just found the most amazingly simple drawing program called ‘Scribbles’ with great possibilities - check out this image below for example:

I am not sure if it is ok to post the image - I couldn’t find any info on the gallery page. Full credos to the artist “Nico”. I am looking forward to playing with Scribbles. Only for macs I think.

Here’s a find for the first day of the new year - thanks to the very soon to be married for the heads up. I like cartoons, and the more insightful (with the odd bit of cynicism) the better. The cartoon below is from “The Ongoing Adventure of ASBO Jesus”.

I like it. A lot. My thoughts are less about the merit (or not) of the views captured by the statements, but rather what they typify. Christianity in our postmodern world is often viewed as a package of strong views such as these, and precious little else. If only dogma was quite as cute as the little dog here. No, Christianity is less known for its acceptance, grace, mercy and justice than for dogmas that often propagate attitudes that are the antithesis of these things. I don’t propose a wishy-washy theology that wavers like a cultural chameleon. I am just not sure that these views are as central to the heart of Jesus, the reason we call the bible “good news” as they are sometimes made to be. Maybe our dogma needs to be exercised off leash. Thanks for the cartoons Jon.

Hope you all like the snow traipsing across my screen - I thought I had better do something a little festive here to mark the season!  Please don’t misinterpret my title for any scrooge like disdain for Christmas.  On the contrary, I think it is a wonderful time of the year.  I love the holidays, choosing presents, and yeah, I am not so holy as to deny the fact that I like receiving them too.  My title is more a reflection on what is left about Christmas when the spending, giving, receiving and returning frenzy is over?  (Lets face it, a lot of unwanted presents are given and received every year.  I am sure that ebay went wild by about midmorning on December 25th).  Most gifts lose their gleam quickly enough.  No matter how much they were or are desirable.  I found this clip on youtube that sums it up nicely.  Except it tries unhappily to blend the story of Jesus with Christmas present disatisfaction.  There is something disturbing about Jesus, who during his time on earth had very little in the way of possessions, being portrayed as an infant bemoaning the fact that he received frankinsense instead of an iphone (ok, I am reading my own wants into this one!).  I think it is symptomatic of our culture that is far more focussed on receiving rather than giving.  I know there are exceptions to this everywhere, and those stories, individuals and communities should be celebrated.  But our obsession with “stuff” irks me.  Not the least because I am guilty too, even though I know better.   I haven’t had many people wish me “happy Christmas this year”.  No, it is not because I have no friends, but because people seem to be wishing each other “happy holidays”, “enjoy the festivities”, and other such greetings.  Nothing much to do with “Christ”mas at all.  And maybe this is appropriate.  Or at least honest.  If celebrating God coming to live amongst us is at best shoved off to one side at Christmas, then lets not pretend.   For those of us who follow Jesus, the challenge is loud and clear during this time we call “Christmas”, and beyond it.  For the consumerist scourge that raises its head at Christmas is alive and well all year round.  

Yes.  This is what you think it is. No.  It is not mine. Photo taken at the red centre of Australia.  Object of envy the possession of proud resident of the U.S. of A.

I have been a Christian for a long time.  I couldn’t count how many sermons or seminars I have sat through, some with eagerness and many with barely disguisable boredom.  I am sure I have heard more than one deal with the subject of “loosing and binding”.  Usually to do with spiritual warfare.  For those of you who read my blog who may be unfamiliar with these terms (and a few more that follow), a quick play on Google or visit to the wiki will catch you up.  I have always been taught that loosing and binding was to do with managing supernatural nasties.  Enter Velvet Elvis.  I am part way through this thoroughly enjoyable book by Rob Bell, who has managed in a few short pages to challenge more than a few assumptions.   Loosing and binding has precious little to do with demons and such like, according to Rob.  Rabbis used to (and probably still do) sit around and rip through the Torah, arguing the finer points, challenging traditional interpretations, and master rabbis would make their mark by defining how something was to be understood and applied.  This may mean that some past understandings were discarded, and new applications put into force.  This process was referred to as “loosing” and “binding”.  A rule that no longer applied was “loosed”, and the fresh interpretation was considered “bound”.  This is the process that Jesus was referring to.  Jesus certainly did his share of “loosing” and “binding”.

Probably not as exciting for sermon material as loosing and binding spiritual powers,  but I for one am rather glad to be set straight on the matter.  Or rather my old understanding has been “loosed”.  And there is something rather exciting about the process.  The Scriptures are to be engaged in, tossed around, teased out, debated hotly, always searching for life-giving meaning, with a bit of “loosing” and “binding” thrown in there - a dynamic process that is continually revisited.  The bible is never “done and dusted”.  When I get time, I plan to do a bit of research of my own into the phenomenon of “loosing” and “binding”, to see if I reckon Rob has “loosed” and “bound” rightly.

Hmmm.  This has to be the most times I have used quotation marks in a post in all my  blogging years.

Tonight we enjoyed a sumptuous Japanese meal in Brunswick street Fitzroy (and no, for those of you who read my blog as regularly as I get around to posting on it, this is not going to be another post on the delights of Japanese cuisine).  Afterwards we watched  contemporary dance companies Idle Hands and Random Takeaway perform at Gertrude’s Brown Couch, a bar in Fitzroy.  The performance was part of the Melbourne’s Fringe Festival.  One of my friends, Jesse Mitchell, played guitar and sang as part of the final performance.  The choreography was achingly beautiful and sensual.  I don’t think I have ever seen a dance performance before (I have an aversion to musicals, and don’t feel old enough for operas or the ballet).  I was really impacted by the marriage of song and powerfully intimate movement.  It was like being privy to a deep moment between lovers in a way that is normally reserved to the far less adequate two-dimensional Hollywood screen scene.  It was a real treat, and if you are in Melbourne, there will be performances next week - check out the above links for dates.