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Eight thoughts about 2017

12/26/2017

Another year has become part of our past.

If your year was like mine it was filled with successes and mistakes, wise, and less wise decisions, rich meaningful relationships that were deeply nourishing but also misunderstandings that needed sorting out, as well as fulfilled dreams and disappointments. But in between were moments, … moments of wonder, beauty and challenges … I hope you caught them.

Whatever the year brought for you, 2017 was a chapter in your life. A year you’ll never have again. We are not the people we were at the end of 2016. Maybe we have changed in small inconceivable ways or maybe for you this year came with monumental shift.

Maybe it's a year you'll always look back on fondly, or maybe you are just glad its over.

But before you go rushing, wandering or skipping into 2018, can I encourage you to take some time to evaluate the year just gone before it becomes a distant memory. Find a quiet place, some uninterrupted time alone with a journal or digital notepad and use the time to let God unpack for you the blessings and lessons that were tucked into 2017.

So often it’s only on reflection that we see what was there all the time and we were just too busy or preoccupied to see. Hindsight is full of wisdom.

Here are 8 questions to ponder. Cherish each one – don’t dismiss any, that one might just be the one that holds the gold. May God give you insights and understanding as you consider the ways 2017 unfolded for you.

What was the highlight of your year?
What two lessons from 2017 will you take into the year ahead?
What was your greatest achievement?
What was the lowest point of the year for you and how did you handle it?
If you could live the year again, what would you do differently?
Where did you see God at work?
Make a list of the ways you saw God answer prayer
What are you most grateful for as you reflect on 2017.

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The impossible story

12/19/2017

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God chooses to work through the ordinary ... to do the impossible.

There’s Zachariah and Elizabeth, simple, God-fearing, ordinary folk who’ve trodden that lonely and heartbreaking road of infertility. Their hopes dashed again and again until finally they come to terms with the reality that they will never experience parenthood and there’d be no child to continue the family name. Time lessened the grief, but the ache never really went away … the sadness … the longing … the shame.

Then one day Zachariah was just doing what priest do, when the angel Gabriel arrived to tell him God had heard his prayer and his elderly wife would give birth to a son. And what’s more, his son, John, would be filled with the Holy Spirit from birth and prepare the way for Jesus, who was yet to be born. That would have taken a bit of processing.

True to the angel’s word, Elizabeth did conceive and Zachariah remained speechless until John was born.

Then there is Mary, a teenage servant girl, a virgin, betrothed to a carpenter. There’s the long dusty road to Bethlehem, a manger and the lowliest of births.

And shepherds in the fields, minding their sheep in the stillness of the night. Some commentators suggest that the shepherds concerned were the ones who cared for the temple sheep, the sacrificial lambs. Their fields were on the edge of the city not far from where Jesus was born. Whoever they were, they were men who knew something about hard physical work, strong men, hardened by an outdoor life in the summer heat and the bitter winds of winter.

The sovereign God of the universe, the creator of all things, chose humanity amongst the most ordinary of this world.

God continues to work through the ordinary, everyday, in exceptional ways. Over the last few months this has come to me again and again as I’ve encountered stories of God doing the impossible through the lives of people who would have considered themselves quite commonplace.

Let me share just one of those stories.

I've just finished reading a book recently released about Arthur Stace. It truly is a story of the impossible. Surviving an abusive childhood and given up by his mother, he became a hopeless alcoholic, sleeping on park benches or in the gutter, frequently arrested and eventually involved in a life of crime.

Then one Wednesday he heard that if he went to St Barnabas' on Broadway, after the minister preached, you could get a cup of tea and a rock cake. Along with some other alcoholics, Arthur headed for the rock cakes. That night he met Rev Hammond, a man who had given his life to helping alcoholics find a better life.

Arthur was unprepared for what happened next. Through the sermon that night he was convicted by the spirit and gave his life to Christ. From that day forward he never drank a drop of alcohol. With the help of Rev Hammond he turned his life around and began a ministry to men who were where he had been. He was put in charge of a hostel that Hammond had set up to provide accommodation for alcoholics. He also visited men at Callan Park mental asylum, a leper quarantine station at Little Bay and The Sydney Night Refuge run by the Methodist church. HIs ministry was to the despised and rejected of Sydney ... "as you've done it unto the least of these my brethren, you've done it unto me".

One night he attended a service at the Baptist Tabernacle in Darlinghurst and heard Rev John Ridley preach about Eternity. At the end of the sermon, Ridley said he wished he could shout Eternity throughout the streets of Sydney. As Arthur left the church that night he found a piece of yellow chalk in his pocket and bent down and wrote the word Eternity on the pavement. It was a pivotal moment.

For the next 35 years he would rise at 4am, pray for an hour and then head out to write his one word sermon outside railway stations, hospitals, pubs and on suburban footpaths. He became an enthusiastic evangelist sharing the gospel on street corners in Sydney. Ironically, eternity alone will reveal the impact of his writing, but this humble man would have been thrilled to see that word emblazoned across the Sydney Harbour Bridge on Christmas Eve 1999.

And God isn’t finished with Arthur Stace yet. After his mother abandoned him when he was seven, he was fostered by a woman who lived on a farm just out of Goulburn, NSW. He attended Goulburn Public School where he learned his beautiful copperplate writing. This is the school my grandson attends and at their final assembly last week the headmistress told them the story about a seven-year old boy named Arthur, who had attended the school.

I wasn’t there but my daughter told me that it was a powerful message to the children, one they will not likely forget. Arthur died in 1967 at the age of 83 but God continues to use his story to challenge future generations.

The incarnation reminds me yet again that nothing is impossible with God. Nothing in my life is beyond his intervention. And best of all, it reminds me that he delights to take very ordinary people like Zac and Elizabeth, shepherds and fishermen, hopeless alcoholics and you and me and work through us in ways we may never know ... for his glory.

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What scientists discovered about longevity

12/12/2017

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In 1938 researchers began following the life journey of 268 Harvard Sophomores. In 1970, they added 456 of the most disadvantaged boys from inner city Boston. Today the research project continues under its fourth director, Robert Waldinger, professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School.

A number of those participants are still alive and continue to add to the staggering amount of data collected over almost 80 years. Now researchers include DNA testing and MRI scans, procedures unimaginable in 1938. But the studies have gone much further than medical records. Each man has been interviewed and records kept about their education, work life, marriages and social interactions. Parents, wives and offspring have also been interviewed.

Some participants went on to become tradesmen, factory workers, successful businessmen, doctors, lawyers and one, John F Kennedy, became President of the United States, while some developed alcoholism and a couple where diagnosed as schizophrenic.

Almost 80 years of data have brought to light some interesting findings. Waldinger said, “When we gathered together everything we knew about them at age 50, it wasn’t their middle-age cholesterol levels that predicted how they were going to grow old, it was the quality of their relationships.” Those who had strong and supportive relationships, who felt loved and connected, were found to be physically and mentally healthier at 80.

The data showed that loneliness is toxic and the best way to a healthy and positive old age is to invest in relationship.

In summing up, Waldinger quoted Mark Twain, “There isn't time, so brief is life, for bickerings, apologies, heartburnings, callings to account. There is only time for loving, and but an instant, so to speak, for that.” Mark Twain

I find it interesting that 80 years of scientific data came to the same conclusion that Jesus taught from the beginning, real life is about love in relationship … loving God and all those who come across my path with all my heart, mind, soul and strength.

Dr Richard Rohr says we were created in the image of God – spiritual beings. Jesus came to teach us how to be human beings.

Jesus came to put flesh and bones on the greatest commandment, to give it eyes to see, ears to hear, mouth to speak and a hands to reach out in love. He poured himself out for the sick, who came for healing, for the crowds who came to be taught, for the widow and the fatherless, and for those who society rejected.

I wonder how Zaccheus felt when Jesus stopped under the Sycamore tree and asked to have dinner with him? I get that he was short and climbed up to get a better view, but maybe it was a safer place, he wasn’t the most popular person in town. I imagine he lived a pretty lonely life. Suddenly here was someone reaching out and wanting his company and it melted his heart.

And the woman found in adultery, threatened with stoning. I can only imagine the depth of gratitude and lightness of heart she experienced as she walked away with Jesus words ringing in her ears, “Neither do I condemn you”.

Jesus poured himself out for the disciples who were often very slow to understand and in the end deserted him. Then there were the legalistic, know-it-alls in authority who continually criticised and judged him … he loved them enough to confront them, even though they had the power to harm him … and they did.

"Jesus delivered the good news in a rough, messy, hands-on package of donkeys and dusty roads, bleeding women and lepers, water from the well, and wine from the water. Holy work in the world has always been like this: messy, earthy, physical, touchable.” Catherine McNeil.

I fear we are often so busy worrying about correct theology, church activities and 'ministries' or life in the fast lane that we miss the messy, inconvenient and time consuming labour of love God called us to ... the one Jesus demonstrated so simply ... loving the least of these ... then He said, “Follow me”.

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The tyranny of the shoulds

12/5/2017

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A brand new ALDI store opened recently in the centre where I shop. It has a fresh, clean look and feel and if I believe the advertising, it is “Good. Different”.

Different from what? It has different brands and products from the monotonous sameness that Coles and Woolworths continue to offer. Different prices that invite in a day when we struggle to make ends meet. No frills service that means you pack your own bag and pay extra to use a credit card in exchange for cheaper prices.

For some that will be good, others will prefer the ‘known’ brands, being able to use a credit card without extra charges and not having to pack your own bag and at lightening speed so you don’t hold up the next person.

I guess that’s the point, we are all different. Different in our expectations, tastes, likes, and dislikes. Different ethnicity, backgrounds, personalities and world views. That’s why we have numerous political parties, Christian denominations, different religions, a multitude of hairdressers and even a variety of funeral directors.

Yet ironically, despite our desire to be different, we also have a strong innate desire to ‘fit in’ … to belong. I don’t like the feeling of being the odd-man-out and yet the cost of conforming can be a very high price indeed.

In living up to others expectations or adopting a group mentality, I forfeit my individuality; the very stuff that makes me who I am. I lose something of myself and rob others of the gift of my differentness.

Someone explained it to me this way: Imagine you're a beautiful apple but someone doesn’t like apples, only bananas, so you try to be the very best banana you can be but fail miserably because you are an apple. Sadly you become neither a good banana or a sensational apple because you’ve sacrificed the best of yourself in order to try and be something else.

'Conformity comes in many guises including the pressure to live up to the expectations of others and the ones we put on ourselves, or the worst culprit of all, the 'tyranny of the shoulds'. It muscles its way into any area of our lives.

How many times a day do you think, I should do this or I should do that? Its a pressure not a free choice and it creeps into our Christian walk too. Its crippling and strips life of its joy, spontaneity and colour, and often comes in company with guilt. It limits genuine connection with others.

Real belonging happens when authenticity meets authenticity, when I'm willing to share myself, just as I am ... courageous enough to say no to conformity and yes to vulnerability.

Unwittingly, parents, teachers and the church are often the ones to train us to be slaves to the 'tyranny of the shoulds'. I become a good girl when I obey the rules and I quickly learn to be compliant. Not that I'm suggesting there be no rules, but that right and wrong be taught as distinct from my value as an individual.

One of the greatest gifts we can give our children and grandchildren is to help them accept and value who they are and know that their uniqueness is a gift to share. The world will continually try to pressure them to conform and it’s hard to resist, but if we’ve helped them to be resilient and authentic and to know they are valued, they will have the courage to stand firm in their individuality.

Good. Different. I think so.

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Eight thoughts about 2017

The impossible story

What scientists discovered about longevity

The tyranny of the shoulds

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