Love it Asbo Jesus!

]]> http://soulsojourn.wordpress.com/2009/10/23/the-not-so-merry-go-round/feed/ 1 Christina carousel http://soulsojourn.wordpress.com/2009/10/23/theme-change/ http://soulsojourn.wordpress.com/2009/10/23/theme-change/#comments Fri, 23 Oct 2009 12:58:40 +0000 Christina http://soulsojourn.wordpress.com/?p=207 ]]>

I haven’t got the energy these days to play around with wordpress much.  I really didn’t like the last theme, but this one seems a bit cleaner.  Need to try it on for a while.

I wrote this as a meditation for Sunday worship  a week ago…

One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the time of prayer.  It is three o’clock in the afternoon. Imagine you too are going to the temple to pray.  Perhaps you are tired, thinking of other things you need to do, or mentally replaying your day.  Perhaps you bring a burden for yourself or someone you know, and you have been earnestly waiting for this moment to present it to God.  Perhaps you are here without knowing why, or because you feel you must.

You notice Peter and John, and decide to follow behind them from a short distance.  They had been with the mysterious man called Jesus, who performed miracles, spoke of great mysteries, ate with common people, and died horribly.  There is a buzz around his former followers, they seem full of life, purposeful.

You see Peter and John stop, and notice they are outside a gate to the temple.  Ironically called “Beautiful”, as it is a gathering point for people who are not.  People broken in body and spirit.  Waiting for something.  Anything.  You see a man being carried in on a stretcher.  You recognise him, a man you have seen many times before.  He is always at the gate looking for money.  Today he is noteworthy because the followers of Jesus are looking at him.  Talking to him.

“Look at us!”  You hear.  Look at who you wonder.  The busy bustling line of the faithful going in to pray.  The sea of infirmity clustered around the gate.  Nothing out of the ordinary to be seen today.  Same outstretched hands, longing hungry eyes.  Weary faces lined with sadness. The lame man fixes his eyes on Peter and John.  What is he waiting for?

“I don’t have any money” says Peter.  Not surprising.  Jesus’ followers were not known for their wealth.  “But what I have I will give you.”  What I have.

What does Peter have, you wonder, in the brief moments before he speaks again.  What do I have?  The question rises unbidden.

In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk!”  In the name of a dead man, a lame man is told to do what has never been possible.  The speaker reaches out a hand, not to give charity, but to grasp the hand of a man shunned.  The crowd around the three hush, wondering if Peter is mad.  They wait. You wonder if it is possible.  As the man rises to his feet, the kingdom of God rushes in like blood to the head, ringing in the ears, minds and hearts of an estranged humanity.  In this man, in this moment, weakness is replaced by strength.  Sorrow gives way to leaping and dancing.  Yearning by praising God.  Beauty is given hands and feet outside the temple gate.

I wrote this post a while ago now, on my iphone using an application that clearly failed to post.  Anyway, while it is less current, I thought I’d post it now anyway….

These rambling thoughts are probably going to ruffle a few feathers, including my own. But I feel stirred to write, a rare occurrence these days. I have just read a story from the ABC website about David Ferguson, convicted pedophile who has served his time and is in the process of trying to establish a life of sorts on the other side of the bars. Except that he really has nowhere to live. Understandably, his current neighbours don’t want him living next door. Would I? Probably not, if I am really honest. But the man has served his sentence. One hopes useful interventions were put in place while he was a captive audience as it were. Perhaps he is rehabilitated. Or maybe he has learned to harness himself. I am saddened,because I feel as though he will never have opportunity to be anything other than an abuser. I am not suggesting placing children at risk, but surely he should be given an opportunity to live in a manner that takes even the tiniest step towards reintegration in society.  Where does grace fit in here? The man has most certainly been placed outside society by his conduct. The damage done to his victims is not repayable.  His conduct is barely forgivable.  But the question remains – where is grace for him, and what does it look like, if he is our neighbour, both literally and figuratively.

I am not one for following celebrities. I find the scene irritating and shallow. Not to mention fickle. Today’s darlings are tomorrow’s sources of mockery. Elevated or torn to shreds by tabloid one-liners. Airbrush or not to airbrush? Depends on whether people love to love them or love to hate them. And somehow, we think we know them, and have the right to pass judgment on them.

This morning I caught some of a video history of Michael Jackson on Rage. It was a walk through his catapult to fame. The collection of clips marked the sad transition from a charming energetic little boy to reedy slick-moving teen, to eighties pop icon, culminating with a slow diminishing of the man himself. One of the clips stood out to me – “Leave me alone“. An old song, but I have never heard it or seen it before. The clip is startling because it features all the nasty headlines, innuendos, aspects of him that have been regularly mocked. Throughout the clip it seems he pleads “leave me alone”. It saddened me.

He is now dead. And still not left alone, as jokes, media etc pick over the bones to see what will sell another magazine. He certainly had issues. But how can we separate that from falling into the hands of the cult of celebrity, our need to create and elevate others to superhuman proportions. When they can’t handle it, we tear them down.  The results can be catastrophic.

I would not have liked to walk in his shoes.

I just read this article in the Age (thanks for the tip off Cheryl).  From the article:

Asked in a new book about his community role, Mr Harvey said giving to people who “are not putting anything back into the community” is like “helping a whole heap of no-hopers to survive for no good reason”

“He said it was arguable that giving charity to the homeless was “just wasted”. “It might be a callous way of putting it but what are they doing?” he said. “They are just a drag on the whole community.”

This statement could only come from someone someone who has never known what it is to struggle.  And someone who is totally ignorant of the issues that result in homelessness.  Nothing like the billionaire armchair perspective on society’s most vulnerable.  If someone’s intrinsic value is only based on what he or she can put in to the community, we can all be written off at one stage or another of our lives.   Yes Harvey, it was callous. Not to mention Darwinian.  And your stores won’t be getting another cent from me.

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: