The Cacophony Ensemble

Got a bit on?Get back to where you once belonged

2007-11-01T12:31:00.000+08:00

Balance is a tricky thing. You don't sort it out once then let it take care of itself for the next twenty years. And while there are different checks that help to maintain or move back to balance, it's always going to be an ongoing process.

Depending on how you're wired, if you're left to your own devices and inclinations, you'll either default to a lazy bugger who wishes they didn't struggle with procrastination, or to an over-committed, over-worked maniac. There's a continuum there, but most people are likely to be some darker or lighter shade of grey in the black and white that bounds each end of the scale.

For me, balance has always had to be an intentional thing. Left unattended I head towards the darker end of the scale (yet seem well capable of procrastination at the same time). I think that's called multi-skilled—or an affliction...possibly both.

The trouble is, there's so many fun things to do in life. So many opportunities, 'people to see and places to go', kilometres to run, books to read and stuff to write, work to do, quality conversations to have, people you'd love to invest in, and opportunities to serve God with our heart, soul and mind...but there's only 168 hours in a week. And 24 of those 168 hours he calls us to rest! If only so many of these things weren't enjoyable, fulfilling and inherently good. And if only some of them weren't so incredibly intoxicating.

We all have different sized engines. Our capacities are different. Some are exhausted by a 40-hour week, some thrive on double that. Comparisons aren't helpful although an understanding of our uniqueness is important.

Peter Brock appeared in a television commercial once that contained the line 'I've always said, bite off more than you can chew, then chew like hell'. Great fodder for the Type A's of the world. Also great fodder for dysfunction.

So, a couple of thoughts for the time-poor and balance-impaired to get back to where you once belonged:

1. Submit your schedule to God—He's got a better idea of balance than all of us put together.
2. Passionately pursue what's in you and then get into that stuff. Learn to say no to the alluring and essentially good things that come your way but are beyond either your capacity or your understanding of calling.
3. Get your head around the things that make your life spacious and are typical of your life in balance. Whether it's praying, reading, time alone with God, walking the dog, running, journaling or catching up with friends for coffee; have an understanding of what they are. Knowing what they are might give you a better chance of recognising the early warning signs of the balance shifting.
4. If you no longer have the time to do the things that give you pleasure, or you don't derive pleasure from the things that once did, it's time to make some changes.
5. Surround yourself with some people who know you and your capacity well enough to know when the fulcrum is shifting and needs readjustment. Make yourself accountable to them.
6. Be bold enough to question your load and realign and recalibrate. Create regular times to review so you can track how you're doing.
7. Know your capacity. Continue to grow your awareness of your tipping points.
8. Factor margin. Don't expect things not to grow. Don't expect to have perfect health all the time. Don't expect everything to track along like some controlled lab experiment. Have enough space to accommodate the ebb and flow of life while knowing that from time to time unaccounted for stuff comes along that blows the whole ship out of the water. There are times when you have to chew like crazy—don't drop your bundle, chew!
9. Teachers have DOTT time, others have TOIL or RDOs, make sure you've got yours.
10. Have the ability to name your Sabbath and the ways you keep it holy.
11. Don't use a list like this as a reason for saying 'no' to any new thing, but understand that commitments work in concert with everything else, not in isolation.
12. Understand motive. Some of the reasons you'll commit to stuff maybe a bit warped.
13. Perspective is a beautiful thing when it comes to balance. A change of location or context allows us to think things over again.
14. Don't beat yourself up. Unless you're some kind of freak, or comatose, you're likely to get out of whack every now and then.

Paul said in Galatians 6:4, ' Make a careful exploration of who you are and the work you have been given, and then sink yourself into that. Don't be impressed with yourself. Don't compare yourself with others. Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life.' The easiest thing to do in all of this is compare yourself to others as justification or to puff yourself up or deflate yourself. Don't. It's about who you are and the work you've been given.

Got to go...there's some re-aligning to do.

The Occasional Ensemblee Series: Caitlin D'Arrietta offers a Top 5 to whistle along toTop 5: Best Music Video Clips

2007-10-25T12:17:00.000+08:00

Music video clips have played a pivotal role in the life of Cailin D'Arrietta. Since the age of 5, video clips have provided the soundtrack for her life and times.

'A good video clip is like a movie compressed into three minutes', Caitlin says.

And, in a spirit consistent with her fervour and devotion, she invites you to nominate the music video clips that have moved you, changed your destiny...or that you've thought were just pretty good. Like 'Big' by Peter Gabriel for example. Just saying...

Do schools kill creativity?

2007-09-28T23:56:00.000+08:00

A fellow cacophonist, Amanda Powell, sent this through the other day. It's worth investing 20 minutes...perhaps a number of times.

How far is too far?

2007-09-28T10:12:00.000+08:00

No, I’m not talking about dating in high school. I’m talking about to what extent we let something grab us—how much time, energy and money do we give to a particular passion/hobby/fixation?

Since embarking on the journey to making great coffee, I’ve met some extremely passionate people. These people sit as far as possible on the other end of the spectrum from those who see coffee as nothing more than a hot energy drink. For them, coffee is a story rooted in history, it’s a science, it’s a life-long romance. In the pursuit of consistent perfection, there are options such as single origin milk (milk from the same paddock of cows), heated debates on whether ‘to tap or not to tap’ and the availability of $13,000 espresso machines employing the latest technology. Those in the game say their mission is never complete; they will always be searching for new ways to perfect the espresso.

This kind of devotion isn’t peculiar to caffeine-lovers; one can go as far as one wants along any given path in the pursuit of excellence. If it’s the Lord of the Rings you’re into, you don’t need to stop at reading the book and watching the movies. You can learn the language of Elvish, join a virtual Middle Earth community and subscribe to the Lord of the Rings Fan Club glossy, bi-monthly magazine.

If it’s mountain climbing that takes your fancy, you can spend hundreds of thousands of dollars buying the necessary equipment (and life insurance) and hundreds of hours training mentally and physically.

I find this single-mindedness and wholehearted dedication to pursuing excellence inspiring. These sort of people often make good business people because it’s always easier to sell something you’re sold on yourself. They’re also the sort of people who corner you at parties to tell you all about their passion.

I think the apostle Paul was a fan of extreme devotion. (He might also have been a bit annoying at parties). He tells Timothy in a letter: “Pursue a righteous life—a life of wonder, faith, love, steadiness, courtesy. Run hard and fast in the faith. Seize the eternal life, the life you were called to…”

I think we’re wired to get into things. It’s interesting that when something is taken to the extreme, there’s often no other way to describe it other than in religious terms. In espresso, the perfect shot is called a ‘godshot’. Those who stand on the top of Everest usually describe it as a spiritual experience. And we all know Lord of the Rings geeks are part of a cult.

So the answer to how far is too far? I think the sky’s the limit. The challenge is to apply our passions to the way we relate to God and our purpose for being here—to wholeheartedly pursue righteousness. Is there something you’re into in a big way? That’s great. Just try and demand the same level of devotion from yourself in regards to your faith.

Any suggestions as to how this can be done?

Work. Rest. Play.Part Three: Play

2007-09-26T17:56:00.000+08:00

Sure, it's taken me a while to get to Part Three, but I've had reasons: 1) What do you say about play if your work has a facet of play? 2) what do you say about play if you rest has a facet of play? and 3) the lack of intentionality about embracing the play component that would have got this post written earlier! Procrastination probably deserves a dishonorable mention as well.
I guess a good place to start would be with the intersection of work, rest and play.

If I only define work as 'that activity that generates an income that sustains me and my family' then I leave out a lot of 'work'. For as enjoyable and rewarding as some rest and play is, there's generally some work involved as well. As enjoyable as a good run might be (it would feature in my rest and play), it can be hard work as well. So, there'll always be overlap.

I think it takes work simply to make the space to play. Intentionality at least. To meet up with friends requires organisation, planning or spontaneity and coincidence. With the exception of coincidence, you've got to do something!

Anyway, back to play.

I scribbled down a bunch of reasons why 'play' is a better than good thing while I was waiting for someone the other day. I'm running with the loose definition of 'play' as some physical, spiritual, social or intellectual activity that invigorates, recreates or stimulates the mind, body or soul - yep, that's pretty broad.

Here we go:

1. Play takes us beyond ourselves
All work and no play can make Jack a dull boy. Healthy play (ie. non-destructive play) has the potential to drag us out of the introverted caves of our mind into spacious places.

2. Play breathes life into us
Without play, it's easy to furrow a pretty deep rut or dig a pretty deep hole that makes it difficult to look beyond ourselves. A rest/work/rest/work cycle has the habit of grinding us down by degrees. When we're acutely aware of what's going on, we can arrest the decline and be intentional but it's possible to dig so far down that we create a new normal where our lives as boring farts become so much 'us' that we know no different.

3. Play gives reason for rest.
If all work and no play make Jack dull, the solution isn't to ditch all the work and play all day. Work, rest and play operate in concert. Rest all day for too long and you'll probably end up in some disengaged, numb funk. Work all day for too long and you'll end up slowly or rapidly dislocating yourself from the world around you. Play all day for too long and you'll a) go broke pretty quickly, b) find that your play begins to lack meaning and purpose, c) find yourself chasing ever-greater 'highs' to top the last great experience.

I think there's a God-ordained rhythm at work with the trinity of work/rest/play that makes a lot of sense. Whether it's an unhealthy over-developed protestant work ethic or not, I find that I enjoy my play more when I've done a decent chunk of work to make sense of the play. After a long, hard week, play is something to revel in as a way to recreate and hit refresh. If it's been a tawdry week of work, I'm less inclined to even feel like playing—I'm more likely to continue the trend and waste away the weekend as well.

4. Play activates the body's rhythm
If you're in a deep hole, play can be the catalyst for extraction. I read a book last week that talked about a runner who, following a big marathon, spent the next twelve years being unable to race or train at the same level. In the end he was recommended a (legal) drug that effectively 'restarted his engine'. The analogy in the book was that he'd been like a truck ascending a hill stuck in a low gear—it didn't matter how hard he pressed the accelerator, it wasn't going to make much difference to the speed the truck traveled up the hill. What would change the speed was getting the truck to change into a different gear. The drug 'unstuck' the athlete.

I think play is helpful in getting 'unstuck' sometimes. It can remind us what it means to be fully human all over again. It can reset the rhythm of our body to enjoy the work/rest/play cycle in a way that's sustainable.

6. Play is contagious
Most play involves other people. There's an element of community, camaraderie or journey about it. Your decision to play can be the kick-starter for another person as well. Parties happen because someone (or a bunch of people) gets highly contagious with their play—in a good way.

7. Play = Rest (sometimes)
Often the things that wake us up through play invigorate us as well. There's rest embedded within some forms of play.

Final thoughts
Something that I realised as I ruminated over the whole work/rest/play deal was that we fill our time with some things that don't fit into any of these three categories. Procrastination certainly doesn't. There's a whole lot of TV watching that would fall in the 'mind-numbing category' rather than having a play or rest element.

And where does ministry fit into this? Work? Rest? Play? All three?

And how about parenting, relationships, volunteering, discipling or a bunch of other intrinsically worthwhile endeavours?

While rest and work may be necessary for our survival (physically and financially), without play it can yield a life that simply exists rather than one that embraces a spacious appreciation of people, creation and the essence of ourselves.

I think I'm discovering that I need each of these three and yet knowing you need something doesn't necessarily lead to action. There needs to be an intentionality as well. There's nothing attractive nor enjoyable about being a slob...but few people arrive at being a slob intentionally—it's a product of a myriad of non-decisions. Not just physical slobbery either, but mental slobbery as well. There's plenty of people who find themselves in front of seedy late-night infomercials and struggling with lustful thoughts because they didn't make the decision to go to bed 3 hours ago. Just a thought...

Work is good. Rest is good. Play is good. None should be exclusively flogged to death or it will flog you to death.

Yep, I'm out.

Top 5: Most Frequented Websites

2007-09-25T13:54:00.000+08:00

Most folks have a bunch of on-line favourites that are trawled through on a daily (hourly?) basis to make ensure that they don't miss a moment's action in their area of interest.

When it comes to e-destinations, what piques your curiosity and keeps you coming back for more? Are they seasonal or regardless of the phases of the moon?

Share your internet indulgences with the 'hood and some rationale if the mood takes you there.

Starbucks or Waffle House

2007-09-12T10:48:00.000+08:00

Reprinted with no permission from Relevant Magazine. I think perhaps the metaphor is lost with the brandnames causing a skewed meaning but, anyway... Maybe Five Senses or International Roast would have done the job.

In my Sunday service adventures, I've come across two types of churches: in my mind, I classify them as Starbucks and Waffle House.

Starbucks churches are really chic. They've got all new sound equipment, a rockin'band, awesome praise and worship, and relevant teaching. No dress code is required, although most dress for success at this type of church. That may include the latest thrift store find and a new pair of Puma shoes, or it could be as dressy as suits and ties. It seems everyone has a fashion sense.

I love my Starbucks churches. Portrayed on the wall without fail are the words for the music on three huge screens and some nifty graphic background that pertains to the song. They always pass out a really cool, shiny bulletin, which is filled with upcoming mission trips, home groups and fun stuff to do. Some even have coffee bars. The church in itself appeals to all five senses.

Then you've got your Waffle House churches. These are naturally set in the country and often, it takes an hour to get there from any major freeway. Complete with a steeple (I almost forgot what those were!) and pews, you've always got your staple hymnal book to accompany the worship time. This worship time may consist of one piano player and a singer, or maybe just a singer and a tape deck.

The sermon is usually more to the point with the occasional country dialect and straightforward delivery. Someone may even talk about their weekend fishing trip to humor the congregation. There is always an altar call. The preacher will talk until he gets through. What's lunch? This is God's time. When God's ready to let you eat, He will let the preacher know.

I attended a Waffle House church today. You know what? It was humbling. Sometimes you just need the coffee and without all the foam.

I'm not stating that one church is better than the other. Personally, I like my Starbucks church. But, I think it's good to experience a different service every once and a while. I felt like I was in a different country. I was so blessed by the preacher's message. He was so on fire. I was blessed by the people who took turns getting on stage to sing their hearts out to God—and how communal it was; how simple and pure.

I know that God has no preference as long as we are concentrating on Him. We are all His children. I know that the delivery of Gospel has evolved for the upcoming generation, and I believe that's necessary.

It's still coffee. It's still fresh. It's just packaged differently.

Top 5: Guitar Solos

2007-09-06T11:12:00.000+08:00

Let's get the fly wheel moving before the doom loop takes over. It's Top 5 Thursday!

It's time to grab your axe, push up the doof-doof and party like it's 1999—ideally without making one skerric of noise. Air guitar is the only way to savour the aural pleasure of a genuinely great guitar solo (that's assuming you have to be doing anything beyond listening).

So, what's yours? Bit of Jimi? Bit of Jimmy? Bit of Eddie? Bit of Slash? Bit of Edge? Bit of Eric? Bit of Lyndsay? Bit of Mark? Bit of Steve?

Your call.

Yep, the Top 5 is back and we're on the hunt for classic guitar solos (at least as far as you're concerned).

Step up and swing hard (Pete Townshend-style).

The Occasional Ensemblee Series: We're all alone.

2007-08-28T12:15:00.000+08:00

I sms'd a mate last night with a wee poem I'd just read:
I believe in myself slowly
It takes all the doubt I have
It takes my wonder

With his kind permission, here's his interaction with the poem in the small hours of Tuesday morning:

The loneliness in me is hard to hide, it’s my humanity. I’m lonely when I realise there’s more to life than my own small minded desires and needs; beyond the bounds of my existence there is a vastness my life can never fill or exceed, encompass or capture. We gain nothing real as we pretend to be complete in ourselves. To be a hero and disown our most human aches is a facile denial. Far harder to accept the frailty of time passing like water through grasping hands. Greatness is found by learning not to lie to ourselves. A bravery that doesn’t feel or recognise the anguish of loss can’t honestly be called courage. There’s nothing profound about certain or unshakeable faith; The conviction of our faith is found as we’re rocked to the core of our certainty, buffeted and tried by the vast unknown storms as we struggle to hear the voice of the wind. I am here awaiting. This is hope and it’s a lonely intimacy; I can’t share a map of my heart with you at midnight. This is hope and it’s borne out of my loss. This is hope, that there’s something other than myself.

Loneliness is our reminder of company and a promise that companionship has meaning. If I feel an overwhelming solitude, it’s only because I can remember a time I wasn’t alone. I can’t truly regret something I haven’t experienced. We live in deferral, waiting to be reunited. Held in our humanly discrete moments, we’re hoping to understand the continuum bridging the gaps between us. Loneliness itself is part of the continuum: a reminder, a memory and a longing for all the prodigal moments to return. Loneliness is the emptiness of a heart that’s given blood and waits for time and effort to pump it back around.

Loneliness isn’t the end. Why do we stay alone like we’ve been backed into a corner when our solitude reminds us, is beckoning us to remember all the discrete, abandoned moments we’ve left behind in our search for newer, more thrilling relationships? We’ve been contented with spun concoctions and fragile crystalline ephemera, insubstantial gossamer rewards that can’t sustain our weight instead of the ties that should bind us together. There is no reason for surviving in this moment unless we help each other survive it together.

Let me not be swayed by the convictions of this modern life, that the organic and holistic nature of feeling is insufficient and requires an upgrade. In the absence of anguish we become content with imitation plastic and pacemakers, where once we had a living heart of most human flesh. Let the bad always help me recognise my responsibility to return what is good in my life.

Funeral Faux Pas

2007-08-28T12:04:00.000+08:00

I went to a funeral this week to say goodbye to a family friend. He left behind five daughters and as I stood next to one after the burial, I was a witness to a number of interruptions by various people—some of whom were close to her, some she’d never seen before. Now I’m the queen of foot-in-mouth action but over the course of the afternoon, I managed to calmly observe that the comments of many well-wishers were completely inappropriate.

Things NOT to say/do at a funeral based on this experience:
• Ask how they’re feeling. (Okay, I said this too—it depends on the tone)
• “You seem to be holding up well.”
• Question: Did your mum tell you girls how to behave today because you’ve been great?
Answer: No.
• “Your dad would have loved this funeral.” (What the…)
• Squeeze person’s hand and look wistfully into their eyes.
• Laugh excessively then turn around, catch person’s eye and suddenly look really sad.
• Comment on how good the sandwiches are.
• Discuss your observance that the grief sometimes only hits a person later.

Here’s some free advice for anyone attending a funeral:
• Don’t say much
• Avoid clichés
• Keep your pop psychology to yourself
• Don’t try and say anything to make someone feel better on the day of their dad’s funeral—they’re just not going to.
• Share your memories about the person who’s died for a future time and place.

Top 5: Australian Citizenship Questions

2007-08-27T10:35:00.000+08:00

The federal government unveiled their likely guidelines for Australian citizenship yesterday.

Among the guidelines are 20 rudimentary questions (that will be asked randomly from a pool of 200 questions) that are likely to be asked were:
1. In what year did Federation take place?
2. Which day of the year is Australia Day?
3. Who was the first Prime Minister of Australia?
4. What is the first line of Australia's national anthem?
5. What is the floral emblem of Australia?
6. What is the population of Australia? (approx 21 million)
7. In what city is the Parliament House of the Commonwealth Parliament located?
8. Who is the Queen's representative in Australia?
9. How are Members of Parliament chosen?
10. Who do Members of Parliament represent?
11. After a federal election, who forms the new government?
12. What are the colours on the Australian flag?
13. Who is the head of the Australian Government?
14. What are the three levels of government in Australia?
15. In what year did the European settlement of Australia start?
16. Serving on a jury if required is a responsibility of Australian citizenship: true or false?
17. In Australia, everyone is free to practise the religion of their choice, or practise no religion: true of false?
18. To be elected to the Commonwealth Parliament you must be an Australian citizen: true or false?
19. As an Australian citizen, I have the right to register my baby born overseas as an Australian citizen: true or false?
20. Australian citizens aged 18 years or over are required to enrol on the electoral register: true or false?

I was thinking that we could probably add a few random questions of our own. Perhaps if we generate enough Top 5's amongst us, we'd have our own random 200.

Anyway, here's an initial 5 to get the ball rolling:
1. What was Don Bradman's Test batting average?
2. In Cold Chisel's 'Khe Sahn', how many quiet hours does it take to get to Hong Kong?
3. What is the average meat content of an Australian meat pie?
4. What name did Toyota give to their first crack at the 6 cylinder market?
5. When the first name of your town is Wagga, why do you have to say it twice?

Step up.

Raspy Bob gets his inflection and gathers no moss.

2007-08-25T19:18:00.001+08:00

I saw Dylan live on Thursday night at the Burswood Dome.
Now, before I get going, there's a couple of things you need to face up to before you make your entry into a Dylan concert.

First, you're seeing one of the living legends and great poets of our time doing his thing. And, second: Bob's thing is Bob's thing.

There's a few more things you should know about a Dylan concert. Unless you make some serendipitous stumble of the highest order, you're probably going to be seeing him in a venue way larger than ideal. This was certainly true of the Burswood Dome (as it was when I saw him in 2002 at the Perth Entertainment Centre).

The next thing you need to understand is that you're not going to see a display of breathtaking pyrotechnics and laser lights. Nor will you see electrifying dance moves (although that seemingly rubber left leg can be kind of cute). Indeed, a slick stage is unlikely too—it's not often you see gear on stage at a big show these days, but you could spot Vox amplifiers from a mile off.

You're not coming to see some backing dancers in tight clothes gyrating behind the front man as he 'gets the audience jumpin', jumpin' either. And I realised some way in to the show that being able to do laid back from a position of absolute authenticity is way different to the disinterested charade paraded by some of the generations of artists that have followed in Bob's footsteps.

You shouldn't expect to develop a personal relationship with Bob either. Back in 2002, the extent of his conversing with the audience was a simple 'hello' (or complex? it was hard to tell by the intonation) after about the 10th song. During the day at work, we'd taken punts on the likely word count for Bob. One punter suggested an outrageous 23 words. I was optimistically rooting for 8.

And—final disclaimer—you're not coming to hear dulcet and supple vocal techniques paraded for your aural satisfaction.

But, let's face it, you signed up to see a Bob Dylan concert...you never expected to see or hear any of that stuff.

So, with that out the way, on to the concert.

As Brad, Sherri and I walked across the park from where I work in Burswood to join the others we were Dylan-ing with, I commented that this would be a lousy concert to lay down the ultimatum that 'he better do such-and-such-a-song'. Let's just say the back catalogue is extensive.

We had tidy seats. Silver seats apparently. Beige buckets seats in reality, but well-positioned. I'm pretty sure that someone had lit up incense near our seats. Part of the territory I guess. It was a gentle reminder of Bob's roots and longevity.

He was announced in a similar way to a heavy-weight boxer making his entry into the ring to defend his title. The pre-recorded announcer skimmed Bob's life with intro something like 'Welcome to the stage a poet laureate of the ages. A man who defined the folk era of the 60s, who lost the 70s through substance abuse, who found Jesus in the 80s and reinvented himself in the 90s...'. There he was: 66-year old Raspy Bob inflecting away with a sensational ensemble of players who could well and truly cut it.

And we were off.

Bob and his band carved there way through a swag of songs with only enough time in between to remind themselves what was coming next. You get the feeling with Bob that the words and music are loosely connected at best. Depending on your take, Bob is either a sublime phraser of vocal lines...or he has scant regard for phrasing altogether. I'm not sure which.

It's a little tricky reeling off the set list for Bob. He can play a song that you heard for the first time when you were 10 years old (and many times since) yet you can be half way through the tune before you recognise it. I'm not sure whether every night is different, but there's a fresh interpretation both musically and vocally to so many tunes that you can find yourself mesmerised by the artistic convolution.

What I can tell you is that he and his band effortlessly sauntered through Tangled up in Blue, Lay, Lady, Lay; Don't Think Twice, Highway 61, A Hard Rain's A-Gonna fall, It Ain't Me, Babe. And I can tell you that one of the two encore songs was Like a Rolling Stone.

For the most part though, I found myself sitting there knowing that I was watching an artist who'd had a profound impact on the landscape of music for over 40 years. And that Bob had not only wandered through the wilderness in that time, but seen glimpses of the promised land. Occasionally I asked myself the question; 'why does someone come along to a Bob Dylan concert?'. Sure, the songs have stood the test of time and and the rich texture of his work has not wavered in decades (meandered, sure...but still remained textural!). I think the answer lies in the fact that people recognise greatness above hyperbole.

For the record Bob said three words on Thursday night (if we exclude his introduction of the players of the band). During the encore I was joking with Alsie (Brad's uncle) about the word count betting ring we had going at work. He told me that there were reports that in an earlier concert in the tour he had fixed on 'Thank you friends'. That's what we got—a three word count. It was plenty.

Wrangers let their hair down

2007-08-23T08:31:00.000+08:00

From the wires...

REDHEADS are becoming rarer and could be extinct in 100 years, according to genetic scientists.

The current National Geographic magazine reports that less than two per cent of the world's population has natural red hair, created by a mutation in northern Europe thousands of years ago.

Global intermingling, which broadens the availability of possible partners, has reduced the chances of redheads meeting and producing little redheads of their own.

It takes only one red-haired parent to produce ginger-headed babies, but two redheads obviously create a much stronger possibility.

If the gingers really want to save themselves they should move to Scotland.

An estimated 40 per cent of Scots carry the red gene and 13 per cent actually have red hair.

Some experts say that redheads could be gone as early as 2060, but others say the gene can be dormant for generations before returning.

National Geographic says the gene at first had the beneficial effect of increasing the body's ability to make vitamin D from sunlight.

However, today's carriers are more prone to skin cancer and have a higher sensitivity to heat and cold-related pain.

Work. Rest. Play.Part Two: Rest

2007-08-19T21:39:00.000+08:00

By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. And God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done.

In Part One we were all about work. In Part Two we're talking about a Sabbath and a rest. Without wishing to warble the theology of the Old Testament, I'm wondering whether the two are very different things. Perhaps it's possible to enjoy them both on the same day, but it's worth figuring out the distinction as we go along.

Pretty much any biblical reference to the Sabbath that I mention here will be well known. And that's a pretty good place to start. We all know the premise that God was laying down within the story of His creation. So often though, the premise and praxis find trouble connecting. God hasn't had a break since so His rest was more likely a not-so-subtle nod and a wink in our direction rather the result of him being all tuckered out.

So, let's kick off with the Sabbath. It's always a good way to start or end a week (depending on how you've decided it makes the most sense or what church you've grown up in).

The Israelites are to observe the Sabbath, celebrating it for the generations to come as a lasting covenant. It will be a sign between me and the Israelites forever, for in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, and on the seventh day he abstained from work and rested.

Informed by a healthy Protestant work ethic (or unhealthy - depends on your worldview), I'd always figured that observing a Sabbath infered that you're working the other six days. That's not an unreasonable assumption, nor an unreasonable practice. Yet I read verses like Exodus 35:31 (It is a sabbath of rest, and you must deny yourselves; it is a lasting ordinance), and my opinion starts to waver.

Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy.

Our Sabbath is for God. It's not for our indulgence. It may be a day for serving Him in different ways (worship, hospitality, administration, justice, mercy...the list is long) or it may be a time for resting from those things (if they're what's work for us) so that we can keep a day holy. And what does keeping a day holy mean? It means a day dedicated and consecrated to Him. A day of rest probably isn't frenetic or ridden with anxiety—a day centred on God is unlikely to yield those outcomes.

While we're at it, is it good enough to say that we can rest and Sabbath on the same day, or are we indulging ourselves on God's clock? Without getting legalistic yet staying biblically faithful, what does a great sabbath look like? Even as I tap away I'm reminded of the Essenes, a bunch of hard core blokes before Jesus time, who believed that if Israel could just muster one perfect Sabbath, it would trigger the coming of the Messiah. Must have been a bummer when someone stuffed up...

The perfect Sabbath doesn't come from our legalism, the perfect Sabbath rest comes when we submit our all to the Lord, accepting joyfully his promised guidance through a “narrow way” to the Kingdom. It's when we rest from our own works, from all effort to justify ourselves. We confess ourselves to be imperfect and unworthy of Divine grace, and unable to make ourselves worthy. And we gratefully accept Divine mercy extended toward us in our redemption through Jesus.

So, if our Sabbath is a time for denying ourselves and seeking God, when does the rest come? Sure, we find our rest in God but, in the context of work, rest and play, where does the rest fit in.

Fortunately, we're not left with a Torah alone to navigate through our weeks. Jesus came to fulfill the law. And what does he say about the Sabbath? Far a start He declares himself Lord of the Sabbath. Then he puts the Sabbath in perspective by saying: "The Sabbath was made to serve us; we weren't made to serve the Sabbath. The Son of Man is no lackey to the Sabbath. He's in charge!" (I'm not completely sure he said 'lackey'—I think that's Eugene's work.) You can tell me what you make of Jesus' words, but what I get out of it is that the practice of a Sabbath was designed to bring us back to God; a trigger for re-consecrating ourselves. The Sabbath is the period in the paragraph. It resets the meter of things.

So often, we deviate by degrees. We don't so much go awol and take out the guy who won't give us breakfast, more often we just veer a little, then a little more, to the left or right of true north. I think the Sabbath is intended to recalibrate our souls so that again we respond to our God. Maybe we haven't drifted at all. Maybe we're ready to raise the rafters with our God-songs and God-deeds, but maybe we need to raise our heads and bow our heads to discover His greatness and glory covering our brokenness. I think this is what Jesus meant when he said 'the sabbath was made for man'. I think this is what the Sabbath's all about.

And where does rest fit in?

Some of the activities and practices that become part of a well-intentioned Sabbath can make us blimmin' tired. They tire me sometimes. So, where does the rest fit in? If our Sabbaths are intended to be days of self-denial, when do we recover? While we work? On the job? Or is there room for rest somewhere or somehow else?

And what is rest to you? Because my guess it's different for each of us. My first thought when I hear the word 'rest' is a good sleep, but in the context of recalibration and rejuvenation it's quite different. A restful weekend for me (the best place to get me some rest) would probably contain a decent run, some writing, breakfast at a café, a bit of reading, some cricket or AFL viewing while lying on the floor, and some cooking. If I put my head on the pillow on a Sunday having worked some or all of these around some Sabbath action, I'd be well-rested.

That needn't be you. I think my brother-in-law would stick pretty rigidly to 'a good sleep' as a definition for rest. And his not wrong. Some people would find a few hours of shopping restful. Yeah, that's not me. The big deal about resting well is figuring out what you classify as 'activities of rest' and practicing them.

I know some excellent 'resters' (see the above paragraph for an example). I don't mean that they're lazy. They work hard in their jobs, they offer themselves freely outside of their working lives, but they know how to rest and when to rest. Either they've figured out or wrestled with the biblical principle of the Sabbath and grown in the discipline of rest, or they're naturally predisposed.

Both a Sabbath and a scheduled time of rest require discipline. It often requires discipline to do things that ultimately or immediately restore us. I don't think that's contradictory, it's just life. Sometimes we're so lazy we don't even do the things that give us rest. Weird, but true.

Work requires rest. And rest assumes that we go back to work. And somewhere in there we've got to play a bit as well. So as not to get all dull and stuff.

Until we play, rest up!

I feel the earth move....

2007-08-16T22:23:00.000+08:00

Well, actually, up here in the Andes I didn't feel a thing, but plenty of people in Lima and southern Peru did, so much so that 337 are dead and nearly 1000 are injured.

I was on the phone to Simone when it happened. She was in Starbucks (yes we can forgive her) and she said to me "I'm now standing in the carpark, cars are rocking, we are having trouble standing up, buildings are swaying, everyone is panicking".

Thank the Lord, we are fine, our friends are fine, and there is no evident damage to any property where we live. However, the small town of Pisco in southern Peru, where we went for a holiday after Christmas, is all but levelled. The quake was a 7.9 at the epicentre, a 7.7 at the southern coast, and a 7.5 in Lima. I could put a bunch of links about it, but you all know how to use Google I'm sure.

Please pray for this country. Peru has a long way to go in its development. The areas hardest hit are simple villages based on agriculture and fishing. Villages in the Andes were hit too and the winters are bitterly cold, so much so that people have been dying because they don't have enough clothes for the winter. Many people will have lost everything they have, and insurance is non-existent, let alone affordable for people who cant afford clothes.

We are hooked up with a great church here, and I can bet that this Sunday the church will be sending donations and aid to help out. Let us know if you're interested and we'll find a way to get your money in the right spot. Sorry for the nature of this post, but some things in this world can't be intellectualised. Often times finding the symphony in the noise is as simple as being the proverbial hands and feet. After all, we are all a global community, right?

Church goer tips God for excellent week

2007-08-15T22:44:00.000+08:00

This from my favorite satirical online newspaper - the onion. But sometimes it's all too true.

CHARLESTON, SC—Churchgoer Brad Thaden, 48, reportedly tipped God a little something extra Sunday, claiming that the Almighty had done a better job than usual that week, especially with the weather and his children's behavior.

"Hey Big Guy, here's a five-spot for ya," Thaden silently prayed while placing the bill in the church collection plate. "If you keep it up, and make sure Mom doesn't have one of her spells at dinner on Wednesday, there's more where that came from."

According to God, five dollars is "basically nothing" after He tips out the the priest, the pope, the altar boys, and the Holy Spirit.

The Occasional Ensemblee Series: Mikey B gets his jury on.

2007-08-15T12:47:00.000+08:00

I got home yesterday and checked the mail. Wow, how exciting! What a dynamic fun-filled life I live. You're right, I don't. I have a toddler and a 6 month old, getting the mail is my equivalent of a single person going to da club and picking up.

Anyway, the pity party is over. In the mail was a summons for jury duty. Yep, the opportunity for me to do my civic and national duty has arrived. So why do I have the urge to join about 95% of Australians and want to apply for an excusement of attendance? Surely I should want to do my bit for the country and the principles upon which it stands? Surely there are things that are more important than my desires? Maybe Dennis Denuto was right in The Castle? Maybe it is about the constitution? Maybe I just want the swine found guilty by default? Maybe I can't be stuffed waiting around a court house with a bunch of ferals in case some lawyer in a funny wig wants me to sit there with 11 other poor souls and listen to evidence that demands a verdict (thanks Josh McDowell). HELP ME!

It's even worse for me as I wasn't born here. I actually wanted citizenship and national identity of this mighty fine nation called Australia. I actually signed up for this. Most of you lot were Aussies at birth so you didn't know any better. I knew this was a possibility. It was part of the questions they asked me.

I have been summoned before but had a genuine reason to get out of it but this time I kind of could get out of it but probably it's not a genuine hardship to do jury duty. Surely it's truly Australian to want to opt out, to weasel out of this? Wouldn't any true blue Aussie do the same?

Am I being stupid? Are you with me? What would you do? Hey, what would Jesus do (hehehehe)? Help, advice required, interaction needed!

Rove McManus resigns asChief Strategist for Bush

2007-08-14T08:07:00.000+08:00

I just thought Kim Beazley should know.

It seems Bush is finding it hard to hold on to the funny guys these days.

Work. Rest. Play.Part One: Work

2007-08-08T21:34:00.000+08:00

A couple of stories I read and heard a couple of weeks back got me thinking about the logical rhythm of life we were created to live as opposed to the contrived, distorted and perhaps more artificial version to which we've adapted in our third millennium convalescence.

The first story I heard was about the prevalence of diabetes due to poor diet. Effectively, obesity-induced bad health.

The second was the effective treatment of severe depression amongst middle-aged men.

And the third was the treatment of the most appropriate treatment for women enduring the effects of menopause in their middle-age.

Each of these stories were utterly independent of each other yet, perhaps predictably to some, the treatment for the relief, reduction, or apprehension of these conditions was the same: exercise. In fact, in the case of the depressed cohort, exercise outperformed the most effective drug by quite a margin.

It got me thinking about the nature of our lifestyle in 2007 versus God's original intention for us. Before I wind back the clock and get all agrarian on you, I just want to talk about pattern and rhythm. Largely because what we've done, through great, convenient, time-saving, life-giving advancements, is create an environment that allows us to ignore the work, rest, play rhythms of life.

Where do I start?

Let's start with this: work is good. A hard day's work is good. And a hard day's labour is great. God followed a 6 day on, 1 day off pattern and it worked pretty well for him. The creation story tells of no plant having sprung up in the field because man wasn't yet available to work the soil. The concept of work is pre-fall. That's to say: it's consistent with a humanity fully restored to its creator. Genesis 2 reads: The LORD God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it.

This is one of the 538 references to work in the NIV. Admittedly not all of them are in the context of work that I'm talking here, but you can bet that a whole bunch of them are.

When a gaggle of slackers in the church at Thessalonica (I can't come up with a better collective noun for slackers than gaggle on the fly) decide that Jesus is coming soon so they best give up their day jobs and wait for the rapture, Paul rains on their tedious parade and says: "If a man will not work, he shall not eat." Paul was a bit of a worker too.

Solomon was also partial to a little work. He has the Proverbs 31 woman pretty much running the universe on her own and throws out a stern rebuke or warning to the idle in Proverbs 6 with this little gem: A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest and poverty will come on you like a bandit and scarcity like an armed man.

I don't really need advocates for the idea of work though, I just need a little more justification for the benefits. This is where it will get a little tough to keep the 3 parts of the Mars Bar separate. And that's appropriate, because from get-go God has been all about integration. The idea that work, rest and play should be connected and overlap is a little obvious. For the sake of a three-part strategy though, let's try and contain this post to work.

While I'm no medical practitioner (not even a closet one) I reckon the reason behind exercise being a solutions to a multitude of maladies has a whole lot to do with endorphins. Endorphins are a by-product of hard labour. And they make you feel good. They have an analgaesic effect Prolonged physical exercise will do it for you although a bunch of scientists have hypothesised that the high comes comes as much from completing a challenge as it does from exertion. Either way, it works for me. Through their analgesic effect on the body, the release of endorphins results in a state of euphoria for the satisfied receiver.

So here's what I'm thinking: in the rhythm of life that we were created to enjoy, our work was part of the healthy mind/healthy body balance. While my work is largely sedentary and needs to be supplemented with exercise to attain this balance, the rhythm of life back in the day would have yielded a bunch of endorphins each day. Dad went off to work and worked hard. Dad was fit. Dad ate plenty because he was hungry from a hard day's work. But he was also blimmin' satisfied in his labour. The endorphins released by his effort and accomplishments made sure of it.

Obviously it's not all about work. For a start that wouldn't make for a trinity of posts. And it would eventualy make Jack a dull boy—though perhaps not as quickly as all play and no work would.

I've got to stop as my body clock is calling for the second installment of the series right now.

Before I go though, what's your experience of work? Does it energise you? Reward you? If you're in an active job, do you come home tired and satisfied...or just plain tired. And how is it linked to your spirituality and your relationships. Is it connected or is it separate? How do you address the sedentary nature of your job with a body that craves endorphins for its own sanity?

Send it down

2007-08-06T17:51:00.000+08:00

Last Friday, there was 2136,000,000 litres less in our dams compared to 2006. Today, there's 172,000,000 more in our dams than this time last year. (The black line below tells the tale)

Rain's a great thing. Nah, really, it is. Just saying...

The Writers' Bloc

2007-08-05T21:27:00.000+08:00

It's hard to find an easy answer to what releases a writer to write and what makes one retreat. In talking to a few Ensemblees lately though, it seems as if we may have clammed up en masse—a collective writers bloc/k.

I love the scene in Adaptation where Charlie Kaufman (played by Nicolas Cage) attempts to sit down and write. What transpires is a marvelous internal dialogue between conflicting voices that come up with a bunch of reasons why he needs to write...and yet things aren't quite right.

To begin... To begin... How to start? I'm hungry. I should get coffee. Coffee would help me think. Maybe I should write something first, then reward myself with coffee. Coffee and a muffin. So I need to establish the themes. Maybe a banana nut. That's a good muffin.

For a few minutes, Kaufman considers all the possible reasons for his blockage: the position of his desk, his general writing location, his level of tiredness, and his hunger. They're more explanations than causes though.

My guess is that for most, the number one enemy of unbridled writing is time. Pretty obvious I guess. Writing is generally the product of thought. And talking, reading and listening. Rumination, meditation and contemplation. Lots of 'shuns' all over the place that gestate and give birth to written expression.

These things take time.

So, while the Ensemble loosens the bowels of their minds with the fibre of contemplation and motivation, why not start talking? What gets you unstuck? Assuming you figure that writing stuff down is a better-than-average means of processing the gear in our internal and external worlds, what gets you un-stuck when you become a tad constipated?

I figure we could all use a little help...

Top 5: All-time favourite albums

2007-08-05T20:28:00.000+08:00

Wish, the magazine that gets tucked inside my copy of The Australian on the first Friday of each month, included a "High Five" (as they called it) of all-time favourite albums from some musicians and industry-folk. Some of them also nominated a guilty pleasure—a CD to which they were sheepishly attracted.
It didn't take much of a leap to figure that this should step up as Cacophony's next Top 5. Before we get there though, some Top 5's from some folk you may know:

Tex Perkins
1. Sticky Fingers: The Rolling Stones
2. Loaded: The Velvet Underground
3. Tonight's the Night: Neil Young
4. Raw Power: Iggy & the Stooges
5. Clear Spot: Captain Beefheart and The Magic Band

Guilty Pleasure
Jesus Christ Superstar (Soundtrack)

Marcia Hines
1. Sargeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band: The Beatles
2. Tutu: Miles Davis
3. Face Value: Phil Collins
4. Talking Book: Stevie Wonder
5. Luther Vandross: any album

Arnold Frollows
1. Kind of Blue: Miles Davis
2. What's going on: Marvin Gaye
3. Astral Weeks: Van Morrison
4. Hejira: Joni Mitchell
5. The Harder they Come: (Soundtrack)

Guilty Pleasure
Hotel California: The Eagles

Sarah Blasko
1. Debut: Bjork
2. To Bring you my love: PJ Harvey
3. Amnesiac: Radiohead
4. Dirty: Sonic Youth
5. Talking Heads: 77 Talking Heads

Guilty Pleasure
Neither Fish nor Flesh Terence Trent d'Arby

Simon Elliott
1. U2: The Joshua Tree
2. Making Movies: Dire Straits
3. Gossip: Paul Kelly
3a: Rumours: Fleetwood Mac (just following on the with the loose lips)
4. Enlightenment: Van Morrison
5. The Bends: Radiohead

Guilty Pleasure (not really, just one more)
Brood: My Friend the Chocolate
So: Peter Gabriel

Simon's twin
1. David Grey: White Ladder
2. Oh, Mercy: Bob Dylan
3. Mercury Falling: Sting
4. Woodface: Crowded House
5. Glo: Delirious?

Guilty Pleasure
Difficult Loves: Weddings, Parties, Anything

So—step right up and swing hard. No wrong answers (other than those listed above).

Yep, she's here

2007-07-26T11:52:00.000+08:00

Now I know this site is not intended to be a personal column for the events of life, but I'm bowing to public encouragement to introduce you to a friend of mine.

Here's Molly Grace Shakespeare Elliott. Molly entered the world at 11.52am on August 26, 2007. She weighed in at 3210grams and stretched out to 50.5cm when it mattered. She's got a less than comfortable head (35.5cm) in the clinches but it's covered with plenty of hair. She hasn't said much so far.

We're more than happy to have her stay at our place for a while...

He ain't heavy ... he's my brother

2007-07-25T14:32:00.000+08:00

My brother is an artist, a renovator and somewhat of a property mogul. He's also been trying his hand at other pursuits recently.

Check this out.

I couldn't be more proud.

Stuff happens.

2007-07-25T09:33:00.000+08:00

All the time.

See?

Top 5: Leaders of the Bible, Leaders of the World

2007-07-25T08:19:00.000+08:00

I've been preparing to lecture a unit on leadership over the last couple of days. The first couple of weeks is spent reviewing some of the great leaders of the Bible and some fine leaders throughout history. So I thought I'd throw it out there. Butter up with two separate Top 5's: one for biblical leaders and another for giants of leadership through history.

As far as criteria goes, the only criteria is that you consider them a leader. Feel free to add words of clarification or even what you admire about their leadership but, like any leader, don't feel that it's a particular stereotype of leadership that qualifies them for a list like this.

Greatness.

2007-07-16T21:21:00.000+08:00

From Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, 1601:

"...Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em"
(Malvolio)

Given that the overwhelming majority of the population considers themselves 'above average', which one of Malvolio's three options are you?

Better still, what have you got to say about greatness?

The Cacophony Interviews: July 2007Peter Birt, Pastor et.al.

2007-07-13T17:49:00.000+08:00

On a Wednesday in the middle of May, Peter Birt – pastor, runner, football fan – and my uncle – was diagnosed with bowel cancer. The following Friday, he went in for surgery and came out fitted with a colostomy bag. I spoke to him in early June – the day after he left hospital – about the journey so far. Here are some highlights of that conversation...

PB: Yeah, so...you go to hospital, and suddenly you’re an invalid. And you’ve got nurses saying ‘you will need to be shaved’ and it’s embarrassing, you know, and you’re just this helpless...invalid. And I was really grateful for some Scripture that I’d memorized...out of 1 Corinthians that says,

I care very little how you judge me – or any human court. Indeed I do not even judge myself. My conscience is clear, but that does make me innocent. It is the Lord who judges me.

And I found that concept incredible helpful when you’re going through all the indignities...You say, I care very little, it matters very little, it is the Lord who judges me, my worth and value and sense of identity come from him. So I found myself going over that Scripture while they’re snipping away, doing all that stuff. Which helped, I guess, to cope with embarrassment and indignity.
Prior to it all...there was another verse that I memorized the previous week or two weeks before, 2 Peter 1:3 that says,

His divine power has given us everything we need for life – and I gather the word means an abundance of life – and for godliness through our knowledge of Him who called us according to his own goodness and glory.

And it just struck me, those two things, life and godliness. His power is available for whatever life throws up but then it’s available for godliness which I took as being a God-centered, Christ honouring response to what was happening. So when I became more conscious [following the surgery], I just went over and over those Scriptures and other stuff...because I knew I just had to keep my mind...focused I suppose or renewed by truth...I just found that incredibly helpful and I’m so grateful that I had a whole lot of Scripture...

C: The spiritual disciplines have been a big part of your life for a while now…It sounds like they were really helpful?

PB:Absolutely helpful. One of the things I found most reassuring out of all this is that that stuff matters...There’s so many days over the course of a long walk with Jesus that you don’t particularly feel like reading Scripture, or you don’t particularly feel like praying or, for many years I made fasting part of my practices and you don’t feel like it, your stomach gnaws away. But what I found was just this overwhelming sense that it was worth it, it really counted for something. When the tough time hits, I’m not starting from scratch...You do the training off the spot so that on the spot, you instinctively do it.

I think some people kind of expect that you will fall to pieces, and I was always aware that that could happen; I’ve got great capacity to do that. It may yet happen, I don’t know. But when I look at the Scriptures and see things like Psalm 16,

I have set the Lord always before me, because He is at my right hand I will not be shaken.

You know there’s some reality there that seemed to become...
[Peter’s eldest granddaughter arrived. Peter really loves his grandkids…]

Yeah, so I want to shout to young people in particular, the disciplines matter, hanging out with Jesus matters, consciously doing it, being intentional. You might not feel like anything is happening but it is, and you cannot overestimate miles walked or kilometers walked with Him, intentionally, seeking to live in His presence, setting Him consciously before you. It matters. And you reap the benefits of it. It’s like there’s a reservoir that has something in it, as opposed to just trying to face it on empty, which I can’t imagine how hard that must be.

C:I know your family have been really important through this. What about other people? Has there been any interaction or impact?

PB: Yeah, huge. I’m so grateful, I got so many cards and emails and messages and people sending us, a couple of people sent us cheques... One totally anonymous one just blew us out of the water, we’ve got no idea where it came from, there’s been all of that, tremendous support, people who are praying. Then, I think at one stage there were about six people a day who would come through, and that’s even with our own home church being banned from coming because we didn’t want an influx. And just the conversations around the bed have been amazing, talking in depth about stuff.

...I was really encouraged, I eventually discovered two of [the nurses] were Christians and they would just drop in for social visits after a while and we had some fantastic conversations...

[In this situation] I’m just a normal person and my role as a pastor means absolutely nothing, I’m just this old fella lying in this bed... I began to think about what does it mean for the Kingdom of God to come in this body as it now will be? Or what does it mean for the Kingdom of God to come to this bed? And then I expanded that to what does it mean for the Kingdom of God to come to this room? And I thought about how if the Kingdom of God came to a location then there would be beauty, and so I was really thrilled that people had sent flowers and I was thinking, ‘Yeah, that’s what it would be like if the Kingdom of God had come’. And then Jill had had a birthday on the Monday and so she’d brought some balloons in that someone had given her for her birthday, and I thought, ‘I’m so glad that these balloons are in my room, in a somewhat sterile surrounding, they add a bit of life’. And I thought, you know, if the Kingdom of God came, there would be life in the midst of what’s happening.

And then I thought, there would be meaningful conversations if the Kingdom of God came, and so I made it a point of praying, ‘Lord, I don’t know what today holds, but if there’s anything, any way that my life can be an open book for other people, then I’m available, I’ll talk with them.’ So I’d quietly pray for the nurses.
And then with these two nurses… I’d talk with them and say, ‘this is how I’m wrestling with what it means to live in the Kingdom in my circumstances, how do you guys do it?’ And we had great conversations...

But then a whole bunch of other people came in, and generally speaking, the level of conversation was below the surface. There were a couple of instances where it was surface stuff, but generally it went down underneath, and we talked about what it means to walk with Jesus in these kind of circumstances. And in that sense, it was absolutely rich and life-giving and soul-replenishing.

C: I know you’ve talked about it as an ‘apprehensive adventure with Jesus’. What does that mean for you?

PB:Initially, it meant: I was apprehensive – I don’t like pain, I don’t like people fossicking around with my body, thank you very much – I’m somewhat private, by nature. I certainly didn’t know initially what the future would hold. So for example, I love running, I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to run again. So there’s all sorts of apprehension – what else might I not be able to do that I can now do. How will I cope with the pain, how would I cope with the emotion, would I get depressed? Apprehension – don’t know.

On the other hand, adventure because: Years ago I memorized or adapted a little phrase that says,

Discipleship is walking with Jesus in the real world, having him teach me moment by moment what it means to live life his way.

And that’s an adventure. So I thought; this is just a new adventure in knowing Him in circumstances I had never been in before. And I wonder what I’m going to learn about Him, I wonder what it’s going to be like to walk with Him through this phase of my life? Maybe he will rub some of the rough edges off that drive me nuts. Maybe I’ll get refined and I’ll end up looking a little bit more like him, maybe His love will become more real or present or be amazingly sustaining, I don’t know. It’s an adventure of getting to know Him in my real world that’s changing. That’s what was behind that concept.

I think out of that, came something that I hadn’t thought much about: That the formation of Christ in a person’s character; I had tended to think that that’s good for me, that Jesus will make me more like Him and so I will be more comfortable being me. What I came to see through my time in hospital was that the formation of Christ in me is for the sake of others. Yes, there’s a benefit for me, and ultimately it’s for Him, but there was a fresh sense that it’s for others, that what happens in others as a result of what he does in me is more important. And part of that meant being willing to open my life up, rather than shut it down, to be in the light, because people can’t see what Jesus is doing in you unless you’re in the light. So I deliberately chose that when people said, ‘What do we say to other people?’ I said, ‘Tell them that this is what is happening.’ I had no sense of keeping it a secret – this had to be in the light, or else I can’t see how Jesus can use it.

Which then led to some reflection on healing. I firmly believe that Jesus has the power to heal, and I was praying before I went in to the operation, with Jules and Brad and Jill, ‘Lord, if you want to, you could still heal and I would love you to do that.’ But the more I reflected on it later - I have a neighbour next door who has had two lots of cancer treatment, and another neighbour across the road who is currently going through a form of cancer treatment, and I thought, imagine if I come waltzing back saying, ‘Wow, they opened me up and miracle of miracles, I was healed! Woo! Isn’t God good?’ I’m not sure that that message would have as much capacity to glorify God as me coming back and saying, ‘Guys, this is new to me, what have you guys learnt? How are you coping?’ And then maybe, along the way, having the opportunity to say, ‘The support of people has been fantastic, blah blah blah, BUT, I also found that my relationship with God has deepened and that He’s sustained me.’ I just wonder whether that’s actually a little more powerful than just saying, ‘Wow, I’m healed, what happened to you?’ Which would be horrible...

In all of this, one of the things I’ve [been] wrestling with is the issue of whether I’m in denial. I’ve surprised myself...that I seem to have been fairly positive, and yet I know I’ve been depressed [in the past]. I know what the dark and melancholy side of life is. So I’ve been thinking, it might sound like I’m in denial, but it doesn’t feel like that. But, it’s always a possibility. Or maybe the issue is that you don’t know...

C:I pretty regularly get asked to pray for people who are in situations like this. There were a lot of people praying for you - did that make a difference for you?

PB:Oh, yeah. I felt, I think, I’ve been sustained because people have been praying. So in Phillippians it talks about, being in prison or whatever he’s been doing and he says, with the help of the Spirit and your prayers, and I go, ‘Yeah, I’ve experienced both of those’.

One of the interesting things I’ve noticed is, I have family members who aren’t followers of Jesus and it really struck me powerfully when I rang them to tell them. They’ve got nowhere to go with it, so they’re shattered, going, ‘Oh, I can’t imagine what that must be like.’ Yet when I tell a Christian, even though they may be not necessarily a burning hot Christian, they’ve got somewhere to go, and they’d say, ‘Oh, right,’ and they’ll be shattered, but they’ll say, ‘Well I’ll be praying for you.’

And so yeah, I felt incredibly supported and sustained by the prayers of God’s people. And really grateful to know that people were praying. If you were to ask me, what did I want them to pray? I would say, I want somehow Jesus, the reality of Jesus in me to somehow shine through whatever happens. Again it’s that wonderful thing, I think it’s John 12 where Jesus is wrestling with what the future holds for him and says,

So what shall I say, Father save me from this hour? No for this reason I have come. Father glorify your name.

For me that...it’s not about being saved from it, that would be great, but bigger than that, it’s that Jesus life and presence and reality somehow shines through and impacts people. But yeah, greatly supported and consciously thought of that, I think people’s prayers have really counted.

C: Has God been teaching you anything about himself?

PB: Over the last few years I’ve been reading through the Psalms with one of the kids from youth group...I think every Psalm has at least one verse underlined – every psalm except one – and one day I read through the ones that I’d underlined, and again I was amazed at how God is a living, interacting, present God. That he’s this refuge and that he acts on behalf of those that trust him, that just came through. I kind of want to say to people who are going into hospital, you know, if it’s been your practice to set him before you, then you can expect that you won’t be shaken half as much as you might be, because he is a rock, and he’s present, and he’s powerful and sustaining, and you can expect that. Yeah it might be tough but you can expect that the unshakeable God will pour some of his unshakeableness into you...

One of the things that struck me really early in the piece was the mechanisms of walking with Jesus on the Wednesday of the week before I knew any of this were no different from the mechanisms of walking with Jesus on the day that I discovered I had cancer, or the day of the operation. That internally, it’s the same processes, that you wake up in the morning and talk to Jesus and say, here I am today. I surrender to you, I trust you with what happens today, whatever it might be, and then you walk with Him. And if life kicks you in the guts you tell him about it, you say, ‘Oh, this really hurts, I never expected this but thank you that you’re there and I give this over to you’. And if there’s some joy in your life you capture it and say, ‘Lord, talking to these people was such a joy-filled experience, thank you for allowing me to do that’. So the internal processes are exactly the same and if you’ve got them in place, then you know how to deal with what happens. Sure it’s a bit more significant perhaps, but the processes are the same.

C:How high is the horizon from here, how far out are you looking? Are you looking forward in time?

PB:Well, in two weeks time I’m talking to the surgeon who will put me onto an oncologist who will begin a process of chemo and radiation, and I have absolutely no idea how I will respond to that, I’ve heard stories of how some people say, ‘I don’t know what all the fuss was about,’ and breeze through. I’ve heard stories where people are absolutely wiped out and they can’t work and then all shades in between... My church where I work has been absolutely fantastic, they said to me, you’re a staff member, we want you as a staff member, if we see very little of you over the next six months that’s ok, if we don’t see you over the next six months that’s ok, if we see a lot of you over the next six months that’s ok, we’re there with you. That’s an amazing gift. So, in terms of looking life expectancy, I don’t know. I just want to live well in whatever the next little bit holds. And I want to learn, I want the adventure to continue. I suspect that this is going to be lot tougher than what I’ve been through. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have constant nausea, and I am a physically active kind of person, to not feel like being active. I don’t know what any of that’s going to mean. So I suspect that that might be a far bigger battle.

C:But the processes are the same?

PB:The processes are the same, yeah. They might be harder to do. But [for example], my practice is to journal, and yet in hospital, I went over a week without journaling and yet I survived richly. I didn’t open my bible, and yet, just to be able to pray through the Lord’s Prayer as an extended paraphrase was a wonderful thing because I’ve done it many times before and I could invent new tracks. Or a stupid little thing that I found incredibly value was just going through the alphabet and thinking of attributes of God. I’d think of some A’s, think of some B’s, and then sometimes link As and Bs together, Cs and Ds together, Es and F’s together, and sometimes do nouns, sometimes do verbs. And in utter weakness I could lie there and in my head do that. And it builds your soul up with God. And it was a way of setting Him before me in my utter weakness. And it was sustaining. So yeah, the processes are the same.

C:It’s a very affirming story of God’s power...

PB:Yeah, He’s real. I wrote about 10 points in my journal and one of them is - Jesus is real. For me personally, it’s been really reassuring that this stuff matters, and it comes home to roost. And it’s not just the processes that come home to roost, it’s the reality of the One that the processes are about. His sustaining, nourishing, replenishing, rock-like life, comes real. I remember lying in bed, I couldn’t get to sleep because the nurses had been in and out and just going, Oh, Lord, I love you so much because you love me, just overwhelmed by the sense of his loving presence. It was so real, palpable. Will that be there all the time? No – and it hasn’t been. If anything, I think earlier on it was heightened, and it’s a little bit more mundane now, but man, I’m convinced that you just keep on clocking up the miles...

Peter is currently undergoing his second round of chemotherapy and radiation. He preached last Sunday - you can find the podcast here.

A month later I'm still processing the things I learnt that afternoon...

Welcome to the Future!!!

2007-07-12T22:48:00.000+08:00

The first part in an “end-times” triptych.

Many Christians love to have very deep, complex discussions regarding their eschatology (view of end times) – usually with multiple references to obscure numbers or verses in Scripture. The end times doesn’t need to be filled with placards, tracts, or bigoted views that polarise the Church. Don’t worry; I’m not about to go there.

The end of the world tends to freak people out, and it’s quite understandable.

“Welcome to the Future”

The first thing that comes to my mind is R.E.M.’s song “End Of The World As We Know It” and seeing as I really don’t like R.E.M., this immediately gets me retreating.

The most common topic I hear people discussing when it comes to the end of the world (from a Christian perspective) is “When it is going to occur?”. This is usually combined with arguments based on current political events and allegorical interpretations of scripture that prove their opinion. At the heart of this type of view is a hunger to see Jesus return and see what the Whore of Babylon really looks like. I don’t know if you feel the same way, but this is what turns most people off joining the eschatological conversation.

Despite the (sometimes) weird trappings, it is important to include eschatology in our theological discussions and not be afraid to mention more than “Well all I know is that Jesus is coming back”. A good eschatology will not just get a person looking for evidence of the future, but will draw their view of the future into their present experience. Have you ever thought about the end times as a framework for which to live in the now?

In the Bible, this word ‘end’ comes from the Greek word Telos that doesn’t only mean “the final part of something” but also carries a sense of the fulfilment of a purpose, goal or duty.

So, while we are talking about the end of history, we are also talking about the end goals, purpose and duty of the Kingdom of God. This immediately makes us change the focus of our question from “When is it going to happen?” to something like “What is the end goal of the Church, how does that affect life in the present?”

For instance, if an individual’s eschatology were to be based solely on the belief that the End has only to do with the physical end of the world, how would this affect the way they live? I think we would find that their environmental choices would certainly be affected, as would their perception of a Christian’s role in society and politics. Their view of the world would be coloured by their anticipation of seeing the fantastic events of Daniel and Revelation come to pass. Sometimes, people have very good reasons to suspect that the end of the world is nigh...

... but the trick is to balance this with a broader perspective.

Another person may hold similar beliefs about the end of time but, to them, eschatology isn’t just a study into when and how the earth will end. Their entire lives can shaped by what they see to be the end goals of the Kingdom – renewal, justice, rest, hope, grace, love etcetera.

Eschatology need not only be an exercise in reading the “signs of the times” but can be, if perspectives are broadened, a way of viewing life that is filled with hope. This mini series will look at a couple of aspects of viewing life with the end of the world and the end goals of the Church catholic in mind.

Stay tuned, the world may end before we’re done with this.

Top 5: Cheesy redundant statements of product promotion

2007-07-08T03:04:00.000+08:00

You know the ones, you see them printed onto an object, they state the blindingly obvious, they serve no purpose but their attempt to elevate the product to a higher level of design results only in a very elevated cringe factor.

What irks me is that the person who places these statements there somehow seems to thing that we are stupid enough to read them and succumb. But succumb to what? The reading of these statements mostly takes place after we’ve bought them, like every morning when I make coffee in the office and read the phrase on the fridge (see below). I'm really glad we own that fridge now - thanks to the statement. Is the statement supposed to encourage us to buy another one of something we already have? In fact you have to wonder who decided to put them on there. Surely it couldn’t be a designer of some sort; if a designer is coming up with stuff then they are making some career limiting moves.

So here are my top 5 observations:

1. Printed on the fridge in the kitchen at our office: “Ergonomic Spacious Cooling Design”. Duh!
2. Printed on a placemat in the kitchen at the mine site: “Modern Living”. This is accompanied by a picture of a knife and fork. I look at this and I am quietly comforted that by using a knife and fork (and placemat even) that I have elevated my standard of living to be “modern”. Thanks Mr. Designer, job well done.
3. Any cup, mug, etc, that includes the randomly placed words of “tea, coffee, latte, cup-of-chino, hot beverage etc.” as a pattern design. I was actually wondering what to put in this cylindrical shaped ceramic vessel with a handle.
4. The hot-chip and fried food packets that you get from those light-industrial lunch deli’s with the words “Good Food” printed on them. Sorry, but if you have to state it on a pack of deep fried lard, then chances are that it is anything but.
5. A rubbish bin I have seen here with the statement printed onto the bin stating (loosely translated) “Life is better with your rubbish in this bin”. That’s the truth right there folks.

Encumbered forever by desire and ambition

2007-07-07T10:57:00.000+08:00

This lyrical gem from Pink Floyd has been rolling through my thoughts for a week or so.

Somehow it sprung to mind while walking to work one morning, pushing through what was a very challenging week where Simone and I were forced to consider walking away from our life here in South America. I thought about our desires and ambitions that we had placed on our time here in Peru, and what it would mean to fulfill them, or to not be able to fulfill them, or to actually voluntarily let them go. The thought arose in my head of how, while desire and ambition can propel us towards some great stuff, it can also be one of the biggest encumbrances to doing what we are really called to do.

Last week my meloncholy thoughts spawned the “sad songs say so much” post which was born straight out of our situation. It was a tough week, we had to battle through a circumstance that was far outside our control and it ate at our relationship, our sleep, our joy, and ultimately our desire and ambitions. It was the darkest of times indeed. As the worship team at our church prayed with me (in Spanish – but its ok because God knows a bit of spanglish) I came to the realization that although we were in the middle of a dark time, it was actually my desires and ambitions that were snuffing out the very small candle of hope. Hanging onto what I wanted was really causing me some Matthew 6:25 anxiety.

I desired to be here for a certain amount of time, had ambitions of saving money to meet a certain goal, conquering the Spanish language, and a bunch of other stuff. I thought they were God’s ambitions too, but maybe I just hoped more than really thought they were. It wasn’t till I really looked at the reality of walking away from all of that, and saw what could be if I did, that I realized that God actually does know what he’s doing (duh). Simone and I gave our situation to Him with the most faith that we could muster, and with a decision to act in faith and bear the consequences.

If I am un-encumbered by my desires and ambitions, then it does not scare me to let them go. It does not worry me as much to change them or have them changed for me; in fact it’s actually exciting. I mean, it’s been a great ride so far, imagine what’s coming round the corner then! So, in the words of Frou Frou, we let go, jumped in, what were we waiting for (its alright, there is beauty in the breakdown!). A breathtaking thing to do for us people addicted to budgets and spreadsheets and 5 year plans (it was breathtaking to come here in the first place, but even more breathtaking to consider having to leave).

But great was Thy faithfulness, and it was handed back to us (stop me before I pull out some cheesy Sting lyrics). God beat us to it and saved us from a very tricky situation, gave me courage to stand in the face of a very strong challenge, and changed the heart of the decision makers before I could even address the matter with them.

I have been thinking long and hard about that week. I have been considering what it means to have desires and ambitions. Thinking about Ps 37:4 and what desires do I want God to put in my heart. Do I let my desires and ambitions encumber me, or do I look for the ones that God is handing to me and allow them to set me free. There's an ongoing challenge, but constantly difficult as it requires regular renewing of the mind.

And the full verse, just in case you’re racking your brain as to the next line of that Pink Floyd song, is as follows, and I find them more than a reminder of a state of mind I'd like to keep moving away from...

Encumbered forever by desire and ambition
There's a hunger still unsatisfied
Our weary eyes still stray to the horizon
Though down this road we've been so many times

High Hopes – Pink Floyd

Climate change mayhem.

2007-07-05T13:01:00.000+08:00

With all the news on TV lately about the extreme weather conditions affecting parts of Australia, we shouldn't forget that Perth has its share of devastating weather too.

Here's a photo illustrating the damage caused to a friend of a friend's home from the storm that passed through Perth on the weekend. It really makes you appreciate what you have, and reminds us not to take things for granted.

Christian Scholarship

2007-07-05T00:35:00.000+08:00

The matter is quite simple. The Bible is very easy to understand, but we Christians are a bunch of scheming swindlers.

We pretend to be unable to understand it because we know very well the minute we understand it we are obliged to act accordingly. "My God", you will say, "if I do that my whole life will be ruined. How will I ever get on in the world"?

Herein lies the real place of Christian scholarship. Christian scholarship is the church’s prodigious invention against the Bible, to ensure that we can continue to be good Christians without the Bible becoming too close.

Oh, priceless scholarship, what we do without you? Dreadful it is to fall into the hands of the Living God. Yes it is even dreadful to spend time alone with the New Testament.

Soren Kiekergaard.

If I lived in the US I'd be buying a phone today...

2007-06-28T23:05:00.000+08:00

Today would be the day I joined a long line and bought myself a new phone. Nah, truth is I'd probably wait until the noise died down or order it on line. Heck, it's only a phone after all. That's not really true—it's an iPhone! And there's just a little hype surrounding the launch.

In the last six months, Apple’s iPhone has been the subject of 11,000 print articles, and it turns up about 69 million hits on Google. Cultists are camping out in front of Apple stores; bloggers call it the “Jesus phone.” All of this before a single consumer has even touched the thing.

I'm happy to wait though. It builds character. Passionate patience Paul called it. I shouldn't get too excited...they'll probably sign up '3' as the network of choice.

Still, it might be fun. And my phone's already surrendered.

Manly Man Part 3 of 3:Characteristics of a Manly Man

2007-06-28T07:29:00.000+08:00

Welcome to the epic final installment in a series of posts about Manly Men.

Grace, we must learn, is opposed to earning not to effort - Dallas Willard

So far I've rather clumsily tried to point out––as have many others––the crisis of masculinity in the Australian church. Someone suggested post #1 was a bit of a "shot across the bow" to raise the issue. That's pretty much on the money. In post #2, which focused on characteristics of Unmanly Men, I wanted to crush all of us who are blokes with the weight of responsibility that comes with being a masculine man. Every man is essentially an Unmanly Man. Some of us are so through our wilful disobedience and rebellion, others through ignorance––and all of us because we are broken at the core and, in a myriad of ways, we give God the finger and seek to do what we want to do.

So hopefully you fellas were reading #2 and feeling uncomfortable. And at the same time I hope something in you was feeling angry––like you know it's not the whole story and you want to throw the 'grace blanket' over the rough parts. I don't believe it is the whole story but until we sit with our sin, name it and agree with God about our need for him, we get nowhere.

The Vision: Keep Shovelling!
That brokenness is a grace gift that points us continually to Jesus. From that place we cooperate with God who, by the Holy Spirit, works an ongoing transformation in us for an eternity––the very beginning of which is a promise of its completion (Phil 1:6). Our task as aspiring Manly Men is to work with God––to keep shovelling. And in that process of shovelling––of working hard, being courageous, sacrificing ourselves, being others-centered––we discover that the gospel makes sense, we relate more closely with Jesus and we discover our deepest joy.

The vision is a big one: Manly Men who in humble submission to Jesus in the power of the Holy Spirit shape communities, families and churches into gospel-living, culture-transforming brilliance to the glory of the Father. (I'll take trinitarian for $250 thanks Alex...) This vision takes shovelling. It's not always pretty, it's rarely easy, but I believe it's right––and beautiful.

Some assumptions
At a basic level, men are created in the image of God and find their identity in Him. Men are created as worshippers who, through the fall, are sinners by nature and in need of God's saving grace. Men aren't self-sufficient beings, but created in need of God and others. God created men different to women. Wayne Grudem and John Piper define biblical masculinity like this:

At the heart of mature masculinity is a sense of benevolent responsibility to lead, provide for and protect women in ways appropriate to a man's differing relationships.

I think that's a tidy definition because it focuses on maturing out of sinful distortions and limitations to both act and feel benevolence in ways that are appropriate to different kinds of relationships. The combination of acting responsibly and feeling responsible means that mature masculinity isn't about just ticking the box, which is still immature, but focuses on a quality of heart, a core disposition that shapes concrete actions, attitudes, thoughts and words appropriately according to context. Here's another good one from Stuart Scott:

The possession and pursuit of redeemed perspective and character, enhanced by qualities consistent with the distinguishing male roles of leading, loving, protecting, and providing--all for the glory of God.

Jesus is the Perfect Man
Jesus is the perfect man and our ultimate example. He does the Father's will (not his own), was filled with Spirit (not worldly wisdom), lived a holy and obedient life, gave people the gospel, sought to meet the needs of others, sacrificed himself, sought to be gentle wherever possible (not harsh and demanding), was decisive and not wishy-washy or afraid, led the discples, showed initiative, confronted others when necessary, fulfilled responsibilities, was diligent and not lazy, served and listened to others in his leadership, wasn't proud and lording it over others, sought to glorify another (Father) and not hungry for attention or recognition.

Biblical Qualifcations for Manly Leaders
Above all, Manly Men are to put on Christlikeness and seek to emulate Christ in their lives. Characteristics from the biblical qualifications for church leaders include: being above reproach, a one-woman man, sober-minded, self-controlled, respectable, hospitable, gentle, organised, loving good, upright, holy, disciplined and holding firm to the word to teach and rebuke.

Roles for a Manly Man
As you can see there's a huge amount of context and scene-setting that goes before an explicit discussion of roles of a Manly Man. Here are a couple of characteristics that are unique to Manly Men.

Leader
God is the ultimate leader. God appointed Adam to oversee the garden despite the fact that he could do a better job Himself (Gen 2:15, 1:28-30, 2:20). He was given tasks before Eve arrived on the scene. When she was created it was to help Adam in the work God had given them. Adam was to lead, Eve to help and follow. A Manly Man is a leader who is: wise, full of initiative, decisive, humble, courageous and personally involved.

Lover
God is the ultimate lover. Adam and Eve were given to each other as marital companions, an intention that's clarified throughout scripture (Mal 2:14). In the NT husbands are singled out as needing to exemplify this sacrificial love that Christ has for the church (Eph 5:25). This love involves living in an understanding way (1 Pet 3:7). Jesus commanded the men he left behind to love and serve each other (John 13:15). John Benton writes: There is need for repentance. Perhaps single men have used the strength they have to serve themselves rather than other people. Perhaps husbands have used their strength to dominate their wives and children. We need to learn to come back to God, back to his Word of Scripture, and learn again to walk with him. To be a loving sacrificial servant of others, as Jesus Christ was, is not to be namby-pamby. It is to be a true man. A Manly Man is a lover who is: kind, gentle, giving, considerate, a servant and self-sacrificial.

Protector
God is the ultimate protector of his people (2 Thess 3:3). A man makes the same commitment to protect his family, his wife, his children, the church and others around him. In 1 Corinthians 16:13 God commands the peeps at the Corinthian church to protect the faith by saying "act like men" (ie. be courageous, man up). Jesus protected his disciples (John 17:12) and expects church leaders to protect the body of Christ (Acts 20:28). A Manly Man is a protector who is: courageous, bold, strong and watchful.

Provider
God is the ultimate provider (Psalm 34:10). In the NT husbands and fathers are specifically given the role of provider (Eph 5:29, 1 Tim 5:8), as are leaders of God's people (Ezek 34:1-4, John 21:15-17). Manly men should seek to meet the true needs of the folks in their care: both physical and spiritual. A Manly Man is a provider. He needs to work hard, exercise wisdom, be personally involved and have a servant-heart. He needs to do all he can to care well for those he gets to love and lead.

Aspiring Manly Men
How to become a Manly Man? Simply, put off sin and grow in Christlikeness. Sins like fearing man, self-pity, loving pleasure, pride, laziness, selfishness, idolatory, lack of trust in God are pretty obvious impediments to cultivating masculinity. A real man will put off anything that stands in the way, cultivate practical skills and qualities as part of daily living. It's a lifetime journey and the metaphor of a shovel has been a helpful one in my life––some people lean on the shovel (avoid), others swing it at people (abuse) and some pick it up only to throw it away (abandon). The key is to use it to cultivate something greater than yourself and in so doing be transformed.

More...
• You may have come across the biblical qualifications for elders and glossed over them because you're not one or don't see yourself becoming one. But I think they're good criteria to measure yourself against as you seek to grow as Manly Man. Check out 1 Timothy 3:1-7 & Titus 1:5-9.
• Read and study the book of Proverbs, which is basically a book written by men to train younger men.
• You might never intend to plant a church, but this article draws heavily from the qualifications for elder and it's something I read and journal over a few times each year.
• Study the lives of flawed and faithful biblical men.
• Pray and ask God for wisdom (James 1:5)
• Read historical biographies of men of the faith who sought to live life well, fallen as they are.
• Look for men who are older than you––who have kids and grandkids and who have walked faithfully with Jesus for many years––and sit and listen to their wisdom. Ask them lots of questions around the practical application.

Spacious Miracles

2007-06-27T21:00:00.000+08:00

Think quick: which of Jesus' miracles do you remember first? There's no winning answer, just something to get us off and running.

In an internal monologue (probably a dialogue given there was Q&A involved) during my Sunday morning run, I settled on one...

Riverview had a Miracle Offering Day on Sunday for all our Riverview Trust initiatives and while I was considering what I might talk about with the team I lead as a foray into leading our church in worship, I got thinking miracles.

My answer took me back to Year 9 at Wesley. Before I get there though, the miracle:

Some time after this, Jesus crossed to the far shore of the Sea of Galilee (that is, the Sea of Tiberias), and a great crowd of people followed him because they saw the miraculous signs he had performed on the sick. Then Jesus went up on a mountainside and sat down with his disciples. The Jewish Passover Feast was near.
When Jesus looked up and saw a great crowd coming toward him, he said to Philip, "Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?" He asked this only to test him, for he already had in mind what he was going to do.

Philip answered him, "Eight months' wages would not buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!"

Another of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter's brother, spoke up, "Here is a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will they go among so many?"

Jesus said, "Have the people sit down." There was plenty of grass in that place, and the men sat down, about five thousand of them. Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish.

When they had all had enough to eat, he said to his disciples, "Gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted." So they gathered them and filled twelve baskets with the pieces of the five barley loaves left over by those who had eaten.

After the people saw the miraculous sign that Jesus did, they began to say, "Surely this is the Prophet who is to come into the world." Jesus, knowing that they intended to come and make him king by force, withdrew again to a mountain by himself.

I want to write a few words about Jesus feeding the 5000 but first, let me just say this: my theological understanding of what went on is fairly simple. Jesus took the lunch of a boy who was willing to give sacrificially and blessed it. Something miraculous and supernatural took place that was inaugurated by Jesus and activated by the obedience and faithfulness of the disciples. The food didn't multiply upon being blessed, it multiplied upon distribution. While there's plenty of significance to be gleaned from the miracle, I just want to leave my understanding of it there for the moment.

When I was in Year 9 at Wesley College, our new Headmaster spoke in chapel for the first time. He read this passage. In an act of what I would consider supernatural dilution, he advocated that the real miracle wasn't so much that Jesus did anything special. Rather, that the boy's generosity was a catalyst for evoking the generosity of those around him. By being obedient, generous and forthcoming with what he had, Mr Kefford argued, the boy was positively infectious to the others around him. Those who were previously 'hiding' their food not only dragged it into the light, but also shared it with those around him. The miracle became a miracle of spacious generosity.

I guess it was a neat and salutary message to selfish school boys. Heretical in my humble opinion, but neat and salutary nonetheless.

After chapel I took on the Headmaster (probably shaking in my size 7 shiny black leather school shoes) and challenged him about whether there was any need to water down the Bible. I suggested that maybe Jesus was more than capable of a miracle that was well beyond our comprehension, rather than seek out an angle that made it more conceivable or palatable. He thanked me for my thoughts and said he'd take them on board. In truth, he was probably glad to see the back of the fundy Baptist boy.

As I reflected on this on Sunday morning, I realised that whether or not it was accurate to the events that might have taken place 2000 years ago, the notion of behaving spaciously was demonstrated in the telling.

Our words and our action inspire and grow, or deflate and diminish those around us. Our attitudes are contagious. And, from that perspective, we're all leaders. We're all capable of building up or tearing down. Unintentionally or intentionally.

The Apostle Paul recalled a principle regularly considered in Proverbs when talking to the church at Corinth:

Remember: A stingy planter gets a stingy crop; a lavish planter gets a lavish crop.

I vote yes to miracles that can only be explained through the supernatural. I also vote yes to the authority of Jesus to be the steward of those unexplainable signs and wonders. Yet I also vote yes to the (often miraculous) notion that you and I, through going about our sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life with eyes on eternity, can change the flavour of the world around us. We can be positively contagious. There's truth in it.

Live creatively friends.

(PS. On reflection, 'water into wine' was probably my 'top of mind' miracle...but I don't have a Year 9 story about water into wine. And that's appropriate.)

The Occasional Ensemblee Series: No shame about Ray

2007-06-27T09:02:00.000+08:00

Our fine friend, Raymond Lampard, got his Ironman on last weekend. For those under the illusion that 'Ironman' is simply a moniker given to some multi-displinary event of arbitrary distance, know this: the Ironman consists of a 2.4-mile swim (about 3.8K), a 112-mile bike ride (179.2K) and a 26.2-mile run (42K or a marathon). Rayzo completed the sucker in Nice, France on the weekend. Gidiup, great man! Here's a considerably complete report from a man of few words:

Le Ironman is over!

1400 athletes ventured into the French Riviera at 6.30am for the start of Ironman France 2007.

I had a reasonably good swim, a 1400 person start going around one buoy, a few kicks to the head, goggles ripped off, all makes for a good day. Unfortunately a somewhat long transition and long run follwed to actually start the bike leg. The transition was over 250m long and my
bike was at the end!

Onto the bike and the field started to spread out. After the first 20km the climbing starts, 11% followed by a 7-8% climb, various switchbacks for the next 20km. Then you start decending and start the major climb of the day. Just over 20km up to 1400m, a long arduous process with no rest. That climb alone took 1.5 hours. Don't know why but my back was causing some grief, could have been the extra tyre and weight I was carrying in my back pocket.

The next section was up/down and played with my head a little. You had two more mountain passes, one at 900m and the next at 1000m. After seeing a few guys come off, you had to really concentrate.

The best part of the ride was passing through a quaint little village with the road wide enough for one car. Rammed earth buildings on both sides. AMAZING. Only lasted 2 mins but it got me through the rest of the day. The other thing was seeing 4 french girls, potential ooh la
las cheering on the cyclists in their French summer attire. You could class that as a distraction.

The last 50km was dangerous. Swithbacks are common in France and given you have to descend from 1000m quite dangerous. Two major incidents. Got hit by another cyclist as he cut across my line and the second hit a pothole wich temporarily lost control.

Scared the crap out of me!

My back became progressively worse especially when I came to the last 20km which was flat.

So, onto the run and legs weren't going anywhere. Hamstrings were tightened from lower back. Lost it a little bit for the next 10km and realised the back was the main cause for frustration. On the 3rd lap had a nurofen and that numbed the pain. In the end did a slow marathon time but at one stage was gonna do a plus 5 hour marathon.

So the last 5.5km back into the finish were tough and long. Knowing I was 30mins away from another Ironman was the thing that kept us going. 2km from home and a few tears remembering the people who have helped me on the journey.

Ironman is a surreal experience. Afterwards you are left questioning why you push your body to those endless limits, the answer: because you can.

So now it's onto the rest of my holiday—2 more weeks in Europe to find a suitable ooh la la, followed by a week in Cambodia and Malaysia. My sister joins me in a couple of days time.

Looking at heading to the Bordeaux region for some wine tasting. This region is known for their great red wines.

Ray

Top 5: Sad Songs Say So Much

2007-06-27T03:30:00.001+08:00

Life can leave you feeling very sad sometimes. I'm a fan of the melancholy, I have been known to embrace a bit of misery from time to time.

And there's nothing to help you along your way with your eyes to the pavement than a good sad song. Songs are sad because of the words, the idea or concept, the melody, the production, the sounds, the chord progression, and sometimes little delicate details that invoke emotion.

Here's my Top 5 for an emotional rainy day:
1. Stable Song - Deathcab for Cutie
2. Somersault Score - Decoder Ring
3. Into The Sunset - Neil Finn
4. Drugs Don't Work - The Verve
5. Say Hello Wave Goodbye - David Gray

Especially for Simon

2007-06-24T00:12:00.000+08:00

Guppy's to Puppy's has made me chuckle since childhood. I even surprised myself at how enjoyable it was to read Simon's tome exalting the humble apostrophe. Here is a blog dedicated to tracking the misuse of the beloved mark. Although, I am still more of a literally girl.

Scratching lyrical (A communal Top 5)

2007-06-22T08:43:00.000+08:00

There are moments of magnificence and beauty when the breath of our creator God seems to infuse the mind of the created in a sublime way. Through the crafting of words, a song lyric can capture or recall experiences, people, emotions and time in a way that cuts through the clutter with alarming simplicity. Sometimes that doesn't happen. Sometimes the reverse happens. Alas, some lyrics become memorable because of their abuse of our curious language.

That's what this Top 5 is all about. The one-liners within songs that make us start searching for sharp objects. They're either cheap rhymes, banal notions or just plain English. A few decades back, a band called Supertramp wrote a song called 'It's raining again'. The sad thing is, it often gets played on some commercial FM radio stations - usually when it's raining again. Brilliant. The song houses the heartfelt cry 'Come on you little fighter, no need to get uptight-er'.

Among other things, this Top 5 is likely to demonstrate that we're equally capable of recalling the dross as we are gold.

So, bring it on. A communal Top 5 or 55 of chalkboard-scratchy one-liners where the writer should have really gone into a room for all of mirrors before saying, 'I think I'll pick up a royalty cheque for this'.

PS. It's more than possible to still like a song that contains a hideous lyric. Tough but possible. Perhaps redemption has stories to tell.

The Communal Top 5:
1. Come on you little fighter, no need to get uptight-er
(Supertramp, 'It's Raining Again')

2. Excuse me forgetting, but these things I do. You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue. Anyway the thing is, what I really mean: those are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen
(Elton John, 'Your Song')

3. Roll 'em, roll 'em, roll 'em, roll 'em, roll 'em, roll'em, Don't do much good, but good Lord, he could roll 'em. Roll 'em, roll 'em, roll 'em, roll 'em, roll 'em, roll 'em, Don't do much good, but good Lord, he could roll 'em. Roll 'em, roll 'em, roll 'em, roll 'em, roll 'em, roll 'em, Don't do much good, but good Lord, he could roll 'em.
(Neil Diamond, "High Rolling Man")

4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.

My symphony

2007-06-21T23:05:00.000+08:00

After a big month of much stretching...people...events...conversations... thinking and more, a quote from William Channing helps me gain perspective on the big and small.

‘To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion, to be worthy not respectable, and wealthy, not rich. To study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly; To listen to stars and birds, to babes and sages, with an open heart. To bear all thankfully, do all bravely, await occasions, hurry never. In a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconcious, grow up through the common, this is to be my symphony!’
- William Channing

Life is full of the common, yet our take on the small and large of life, can turn the daily into a symphony or into a torture chamber.

Reminders that encourage me to be thrilled by the leaves flickering from the winter sun, tempted by the sound of a loved one whispering not much, the pound of the footpath heavy under legs that can still walk or the caramel of sugar dissapearing through the foam of a chai latte.

Appreciating the small, to increase the size of my heart. That my friend is the timing and notation of my current symphony...

A

John Stott lives.

2007-06-19T18:50:00.000+08:00

If you've never heard some of John Stott's prolific and wide-ranging corpus, then it could be time to get going. Here's a guy whose life has been characterised by faithfulness, industry, endeavour and the pursuit of truth. There's a whole lot that's worthy of imitation about Stott, here's but a wee slice of the gold that he has mined:

Our neighbour is neither a body-less soul that we should love only his soul, nor a soul-less body that we should care for its welfare alone. Nor even a body-soul isolated from society. God created man who is my neighbour; a body-soul in community. Therefore, if we love our neighbour as God made him, we must inevitably be concerned for his total welfare: the good of his soul, his body and his community.

Too easily moved?

2007-06-18T13:53:00.000+08:00

It could have been the gravity of Riverview's Big Weekend, or the recording and all that gear, but when I saw these two clips late on Sunday night I was sobbing like a banshee. Yeah, ok, you might label them schmaltzy, saccharine and commercialised. All I'm saying is give peace a chance. Open up your heart and let the sun shine in.

Going public

2007-06-15T07:51:00.001+08:00

Having spent the last 15 years living in the suburb of Maida Vale (da hood), I like to think of myself as somewhat streetwise. Okay not streetwise but at least somewhat able to cope with what my closer-to-the-city friends would turn their noses up at – ie. camping in tents, killing small insects, catching public transport. This last quality, however, hasn’t been tested for a while – until this week.

My trusty Laser has been out of action since last Tuesday and after finally running out of energy to persuade another family member to pick me up from work again, I succumbed to looking up the bus and train timetables from East Perth to Maida Vale. In the last few days I’ve caught two trains and one bus and it’s amazing that while some things have changed in the world of public transport, most haven’t.

Things that haven’t changed:
• The bus itself. The one I caught didn’t appear to have been upgraded since the late 1980s and the seats didn’t look as if they’ve been cleaned in that time either. I’m no hygiene freak but I found myself wanting a shower when I got home.
• Grumpy bus driver.
• Schoolkids on the backseat talking about more inane subjects than I could have dreamed possible at a volume that allowed the whole bus to hear. “Oh my god, did you see Cathy come in late this morning? She had like, so not even thought of an excuse.”
• Being selected as a seat-buddy by the one overweight passenger who got on reeking of smoke.
• Sullen teenager wearing headphones that pumped out an audible level of his fave death metal tunes.
• An amazing cross section of people – that’s a polite way of saying that there are some serious fruitbats that come out of the woodwork to get from A to B. Example: A boy standing up on the train wiping at his lips vigorously, examining his hands and wiping the offending substance on his pants. Then glaring at anyone who happened to be looking at him.

On the bright side, I love the brilliant Transperth website that allowed me to map out an endless number of possible routes by train, bus or foot. It even told me how many metres it would take to walk from my house to the nearest bus stop. And the new smart card is very sci-fi - swipe on, swipe off. It was nice to not have to worry about a park and to feel a little smug about not contributing so much to global warming for a day or two but I must admit, I’m looking forward to getting behind the wheel of my ride again next week.

Stop: collaborate and listen

2007-06-14T16:07:00.000+08:00

You know we’ve gone post-industrial when people start solving problems you weren’t aware of – and charging you for it... But then there’s Cacophony, which we’ve already established is a barter economy. In return for your engaged readership, I’m about to solve the biggest little problem you never thought you had...

And that problem is: the email ‘subject’ line...

It isn’t so hard at work – because generally there’s some ‘thing’ you’re trying to communicate. But what if the point of the email is just to connect? Go through your inbox – I bet it’s full of ‘hey’s and ‘hi’s, maybe a ‘howdy’ from your cowdy friends. I’m partial to a ‘hi y’all’ and a solid ‘greetings and salutations’ generally hits the spot. But by the time you’ve bounced a couple of Re:hi’s back and forth, you’re having a genuine conversation, and that subject line is plain inaccurate.

One of my friends avoids the whole issue and leaves his subject lines blank. The thing is, he’s not a man with nothing on his mind. Based on the subject line, you’d think he was sending you something with the mental nutritional value of fairy floss, which: just no.

My default is day-and-time. Monday Morning. Tuesday Afternoon. Wednesday Evening. Again, fine, but when you regularly email someone at the same time, you end up with an unsearchable inbox. I know there’s an invite to a party somewhere in there, but which of the Re: Monday Morning’s holds the gold?

The solution? A diversion I like to call Subject Line Lyrics.

The game is this: Sender fills in the subject line with lyrics of their choice. Recipient includes title and artist in their reply. Simple, right? Well, there are rules.

1) Points are scored for matching lyrics to content; the more oblique the connection, the better. You can give genre hints, but it’s more fun if you don’t...
2) Googling is not cheating; you don’t have to know it, you just have to be able to find it.
3) Most importantly, hipper-than-thou-isms are considered an act of hostility. Don’t be pulling out your Sub-Saharan folkadelic punk acts, particularly if they’re only available on vintage 8-track bootlegs.

I’m sometimes surprised by how different lyrics can seem when they’re written down. Cliches that glide right by when they’re sung start to itch (see: Ben Lee, collected works of).
Inanity sometimes becomes profound. (Collaborative listening? How would that work? And what sort of invention would make it possible? And what’s it all got to do with flavoured frozen water, anyway?)
And sometimes they stay inane. (Sing it with me: Oh. Ah. Oh-yu-es. Yeah...).
But the best thing? People open your emails.

Now if I could just figure out a similar solution for work...

Speaking of Jimi Hendrix...

2007-06-14T07:52:00.000+08:00

For a hypnotic experience of a transcendent musician and a live clip that fades from picture to white then white to picture, rather than the reverse (how clichéd) enjoy some Little Wing, circa 1969. Then for good measure, a vocal version by some other guy (circa...I'm guessing 1980-something). By the way, Garrick might be interested in the other guy's bass player. Just saying.

The Cacophony Interviews: June 2007 Darren Hanlon, Singer/Songwriter

2007-06-13T00:57:00.000+08:00

A few weeks back, on a retreat at New Norcia, I woke on a Saturday morning to some animated voices not far from my door. A few blokes were talking about the Australian music industry. One of those blokes seemed to have a pretty good idea what he was talking about. In my semi-conscious state I remember taking some guesses as to who that was. It was obviously a recording artist who toured a fair bit, but beyond that I didn't have much to go by.

Later in the day, I discovered Darren Hanlon was the guy who had been doing the talking. Curiously, Abbot Placid was the one who told me that Darren was staying in the Monastery Guesthouse and further, he would be giving a short 'performance' to the parishioners after mass on Sunday morning.

For those who are strangers to Darren's work, here's a couple of clips to get you on the page:

And this link will get you to his MySpace.

Genres can be uncomfortable pigeon-holes, but there's plenty that's acoustic and folk-rock about Darren and you can fill in your own categories beyond that. If I was adding a pigeon-hole for Darren, it might be the 'quirky' hole. There's a intricate humour and rich tapestry to many of the word-pictures and stories that find there way in Darren's songs that are both endearing and self-deprecating (interesting how often one of those attributes triggers the other).

To give you some idea where Darren fits into the Australian music pantheon...the answer is: somewhere. Each of his 14 albums/EPs have racked up around 10,000 sales.

After dinner on Saturday night, Darren and I caught up for a two-and something hour conversation about a bunch of stuff that become the guts of this June edition of The Cacophony Interviews. Darren was happy to step up to the Cacophony plate and I was happy to do some pitching.

C: Right off the bat, what brings you to New Norcia?

DH: A bit of a whim really. I've been up to my ears in music administration gear for the last few months and I wanted to move from an admin head space to a writing head space. A change of location helps.

(complete with some dodgy details, here's how the Courier Mail reported it)

C: Sure, but New Norcia? You're from Gympie in Queensland aren't you?

DH: I grew up in Gympie, but I've been living in Sydney for a few years now. And New Norcia? Well, it's a bit of a story. My first choice was Prague but the money wasn't there to get that far away. A year or two back I was touring Australia with my band. When we got to Perth a friend gave me a call from Meekatharra. She's a teacher up there and she was hoping we might be able to come and sing for the kids. We obliged and headed for Meeka. On the way we drove through New Norcia. I remember thinking as we drove through that we'd just barged in on some movie set with all these Spanish buildings in the middle of the countryside. It stuck in my memory as a great place to come back to. And here I am...slightly more affordable than Prague.

C: Is there a spiritual context for you to be paying a visit to a Monastery?

DH: I grew up in Gympie as an altar boy. I was in church Saturday and Sunday morning. I don't go to church these days, but I love the tradition of it all. It brings back a whole lot of memories for me.

C: What stopped you?

DH: Well, I think I just stopped getting much out of it. I still go to church now and then. Often when I'm touring I'll go along to the church of the country town where I am. A while back the church I grew up in made some renovations to make it more modern. I didn't like that much. I thought that was missing the point thinking that a better building would draw a bigger crowd. I think I got a bit disenchanted with it all. I find I'm more spiritual away from the church then inside it.

Having said all that, I love liturgy. I find it quite hypnotic. I have to confess, I've got some great ideas for songs while being transported by the hypnotic effect of the liturgy!

C: How does Jesus fit into the picture?

DH: I think I regard him as more of a feeling than a person. There's often a spiritual theme or element within a lot of my songs, but I'm not hammering it at all.

C: What are the dominant stomping grounds for your lyrics?

DH: The usual stuff I guess. Girls...personal politics...Australiana and country towns, friends and incidents, tributes and encouragements.

C: Do you follow a rigorous process in your songwriting or is it more organic?

DH: It's not really a formula or necessarily a natural progression. I'll often develop a groove and work from there. I often write in multiples and can have a few songs going at any one time. Often, as I'm working on one, the framework, basis, or chorus for another can fall out. I think you the act of giving attention to the process of songwriting puts you in the path of more songs.

C: You seem to have a great affinity with country Australia. Fair call?

DH: For sure. I love escaping to towns and cities. There's a richness in the character of country towns and the folks that live in them that is often missed in the larger cities. A lot of my friends are envious that I come back from touring with such interesting stories or people I've met along the way. I think it's more that I tour in places where there are a whole lot of interesting people.

(Hanlon's most recent album, Fingertips and Mountaintops, features pianist and trumpeter Cory Gray as well as Shins drummer Jesse Sandoval. It was recorded almost entirely at the charming old Majestic Theatre in Pomona in rural Queensland.)

C: You don't just visit country towns either...you get around don't you?

DH: Yeah, we've played in lots of Eastern European countries. Estonia, Latvia...and some of your more traditional European cities.

C: Estonia? What do they think they're coming to?

DH: They're just mad keen Australian pop-music fans. To an extent they're coming because I'm from Australia but, over time, you get a following as well.

C: Are there many at the shows?

DH: We regularly play to 500+ in places around Estonia and Latvia so it's a fair crowd. There's a bunch of Aussie musos who now tour that circuit. We'll probably crowd out the market soon, but there's been a neat little niche for us all because of how many of us have toured around there.

C: Do you get recognised much around the place?

DH: Nah - a couple of times in places like Paris and London or New York, an Australian might recognise me but I'm really not that much of a big deal.

C: Are you ambitious?

DH: Yeah. Not in that I want to be famous and earn millions, but in that I love the exciting life of adventure that is touring, traveling and playing around the place.

C: Is there a dream?

DH: This is it really. The whole moving from town to town and city to city playing my music. You can keep the whole music admin thing - that's not part of the dream - but the regular rhythm of playing gigs and interesting places, that's more like it.

C: I read somewhere that you're a fellow fan of the Moleskine...

DH: A huge fan. I'm a notebook geek. I just like carrying them around. Sometimes I find them too sacred to write in so I use Spirex notebooks for lyrics and lists and stuff. But Moleskines, they're beautiful.

(What proceeded was a homage to the Moleskine Notebook...but you've heard it all before on this site so I'll spare you.)

C: I heard you talking this morning about your friend who has sold a bunch of records and her experiences in the music industry.

DH: We were talking about staying independent or going to the big label. From my point of view, being independent is a great way to go. I live with a girl called Sarah Blasko who's on a major label, so it's good to see the differences. She's doing amazingly well - she's got a really good deal. But I'm friends with a lot of people on other labels and basically they're not seeing any money and it's very hard to make a living because, from what I've heard, the record company will charge you for everything and it's a difficult road to take. Then again, you become famous instantly. Whereas if you're independent, you own everything and one of the great things is that you don't owe anyone any money. So even though I don't have the money to make a $30,000 video clip or spend a lot of money on recording, at the end of the day if I sell cds, the money's mine and I don't owe any big label. The other good thing about Australia is that a lot of our big bands are independent. John Butler, The Whitlams and The Waifs are all independent and have all got where they are from hard work.

I've just got all my stuff up on iTunes too.

C: How does that work?

DH: I'm still working it out really. I used to be with an indie label called Candle Records but they've recently folded - hence all the admin. Apple just have the normal royalty deal - it's simply another avenue for getting your music out there. I've got a whole heap of papers I need to sign and stuff. Admin...

C: Has coming New Norcia helped you get away from all that?

DH: Pretty much. The internet connection in the Guesthouse Library has been a Godsend. With a tour coming up, there's a constant need for communication for locking in dates and gigs around the place. I actually got an email tonight from a mate who's touring around Europe when I'll be there and wants me to do some supports with him. It's been good to have that internet lifeline here to keep the ball rolling.

C: Out of interest, how do you go with vocal health?

DH: Hmmm...not too bad. I got pretty sick - actually, really sick just before my last tour and had to cancel the whole tour.

C: What happened?

DH: I started getting these fevers and pains in the chest. I just wrote it off to start with, but they got worse and worse. One night, while I was at home with my folks in Gympie, it just started to get worse. I'm not one to make much of a deal but I said to parents that I thought I'd better get to a hospital—the pain was unbearable. We went to the hospital in Lismore and they sent me on to Prince Charles Hospital in Brisbane. I still remember being wheeled in to the hospital and the nurses seeming more interested in whether I was the Darren Hanlon who sung 'Punk's not dead' than whether or not I was staying alive. It was a blessing that Prince Charles is one of the foremost coronary care hospitals in the country because the doctors said that I was not long off a serious/fatal heart attack.

C: What was it?

DH: They did a bunch of tests without finding out too much. It's some form of auto-immune disease and it absolutely wiped me out. It wiped out a tour and it delayed the recording of the album in a big way. I remember in May 06 I was back into Royal Prince Alfred Hospital in Sydney because I had fluid on my lungs as a result of the condition. I'd been pretty lousy and had been in a hospital bed for 3-4 days. Problem was, I was supporting Lior at the Enmore Theatre and I couldn't cancel - I really needed the money from that gig to survive. It was a good paying gig. I told the doctors I had to do the gig. They thought I was crazy but said if I left for the soundcheck/gig and came straight back to my bed, they'd look the other way. When I got there I told them to turn off the smoke machines because I couldn't breathe with them on. I survived the soundcheck but just before I was about to go on some friends came out the back where I was struggling to get up to tell me that there was heaps of smoke machine action. I went ballistic at them and told them (not so gently) they'd be get them off or they were going to have a dead guy on their hands. I survived the gig (just), got back to hospital and got paid.

C: How is it now?

DH: Well, after a while they tried steroids which had some pretty bizarre side effects. I was awake for about three days and had one of my most prolific stretches of songwriting ever, but I wanted to get off them as soon as I could. They certainly helped though. Along the way, a natropath told me going of pretty much all sugar would be a big help as well. They were right, so it's no beer for me anymore (which is a bugger, 'cause I love beer). Laura Imbruglia told me around the same time that Daniel Johns had got a lot of benefit for his reactive arthritis condition by getting heaps of Omega-3 from fish. I now eat plenty of tuna and different fish and it seems to be keeping it under control. It's an ongoing thing though...

C: So, with the health pretty much under control a cliché question: where do you see yourself five years from now?

DH: Hopefully making records of integrity or doing something creative. Most likely doing what I'm doing today.

C: Thanks for talking mate. You've got a big gig tomorrow. Better get a good night's sleep.

DH: Yeah - it's a bit weird. It's certainly my first gig in a monastery. I'm a bit nervous. What do I play?

C: Whatever you want!

DH: Do you even know where I'm playing?

C: No, but I'm sure it'll be fun

(Darren played to a packed room of about 30 people; curious on-lookers, bewildered monks and a couple of people who occasionally tapped their feet. It was fun for sure.)

Darren's Touching Elbows Tour comes to Mojos (237 Queen Victoria St, North Fremantle) this Saturday, June 16. You can buy your tickets right here.

--------

A footnote: I read in the music press over the weekend that Darren plans to record his next album at New Norcia based on his experience at the monastery.

In praise of the caffeinated beveragePart Two: The Third Place

2007-06-08T10:05:00.000+08:00

Much has been written about the Third Place. I'm just going to throw it out there rather than get all academic on its ass.

The notion is simple. We live and sleep, we work, and we do whatever else we do. Our home is our first place (live and sleep). Our workplaces/study-places are our second place (work). And that leaves our Third Place—our other place (or places). These are the places where community is cultivated and enjoyed. Probably a place to be renewed or revived. And definitely a place to hang.

The Third Place comes with challenges and opportunities for Jesus-lovers.

For centuries, the Third Place was the church. Traveling through old towns across Europe you see the same agglomeration of functions and buildings again and again. The church was (or is) the centrepiece of the town. In older Australian towns it's often the Town Centre or Town Hall. Predominantly though, in towns the world over, it's the church right there at the fulcrum. It was the dominant meeting place and the dominant place to invest your disposable time. When you weren't working and weren't sleeping or feeding your family, you were active in your local church.

Many years later, Howard Schultz, founder of Starbucks made a critical observation: we've lost our Third Place. We still have homes, we still have jobs. But we've become insulated from the world by those first two places and we've begun to view the church as irrelevant. It has ceased to be the critical Third Place it once was. And it's left an unoccupied void for many.

In his book, The Great Good Place: cafés, bookstores, bars, coffeeshops, hair salons and other hangouts at the heart of community, Ray Oldenburg investigates and explains the Third Place that Shultz found essential to the success of Starbucks. The Third Place, says Oldenburg, is where people congregate to find a sense of community outside of the home and workplace. By their nature, humans have a desperate need for somewhere to meet friends or take solace in the familiarity of both people and their surroundings.

Shultz sought to create Starbucks as a viable Third Place. Whatever you think about Starbucks isn't particularly relevant here. The deal is: Third Places are important because community is important.

A host of emergent church blogs talk about the significance of the café as the Third Place. I think the deal is that God colours can emerge wherever we are. Rather than working out how we can turn cafés into churches (not that it's a bad idea) or capture a caffeinated crowd and get 'em into church, I think we need to bring Jesus into our Third Places—wherever they are. The café is without doubt a Third Place. So is your favourite bar, or pub, or hair salon, or sporting club. Wherever you spend a chunk of your non-work, non-home time and enjoy or create community—that's your Third Place.

The important thing is to have one (or some).

The church is a brilliant Third Place. In its beauty, Third Places don't come as spectacular as the church. For Jesus-followers they're a a contextualisation of what's pre-eminent in our First and Second-places. But they're not the only Third Places. It's just as possible for churches to fail as vital Third Places too, so I'm not assuming that church equals great Third Place.

Jesus had Third Places. They were all over the shop. Mostly other people's houses. Friends, tax collectors et. al. He spent time in the synagogues too and, as an itinerant, called home wherever he lay his hat. Jesus formed, challenged and created community wherever he went and in many ways redefined what was acceptable as a Third Place—before we started calling it a 'Third Place'.

Here's another interesting thought to ponder: the size of your triangle.

There's an obvious triangle to be formed by the connection of your work, home and Third Place/s. There's no prescription here, but if you work in Joondalup, live in Mandurah and have a Third Place in Mundaring, chances are you true Third Place is probably your car. The proximity of your places is in large part about convenience, but it's also about community. Asking your next-door neighbour along to church (or a coffee) in Mundaring might be a bit of a stretch, but five minutes away?, that's not too much of a challenge.

There's an intentionality in urban planning these days to engender community and facilitate the Third Place. I think we need to play our part too. Some of the most vibrant communities are either villages or built around the principles of a village—a small collective of homes and businesses that share their lives together. It's not as though there's a magic distance for the dimension of a triangle that will produce community. It's more that there's a social, environmental and economic priority or benefit to keeping the distance low.

There's a balance that's created by having distinct places. The ideal isn't to live in the basement of the church where you work. Good on you if you do, but you'd be best to find a place beyond those walls where you can a) get some sunlight and b) enjoy and be part of building community.

It's easy enough to have a 100 metre triangle yet remain utterly disconnected from those around you. So, I figure, it's more about being intentional in our decision making. Intentional in building community and intentional in finding your Third Place. And intentional (or thoughtful) about the proximity of those places.

There's way more to chew over as far as Third Places go. Plenty that's already been written from a variety of perspectives. I'm just adding to the commentary really. Like you.

Got a Third Place? Looking for one?

In praise of the caffeinated beveragePart One: Luxury

2007-06-08T09:04:00.000+08:00

This post has been brewing for a little while now. If it was an espresso, this could turn it a little bitter. It's not an espresso though, it's a bunch of words that are in part homage and in part sociology.

Caffeine must surely be one of life's richest pleasures. With equal blends of romance, puritanical pleasure, sensory stimulation, social lubrication and sheer indulgence, a dose of caffeine in your preferred configuration kicks goals on a bunch of levels. It's surely the most fun you can have in a cup (although I do remember some photos my parents took at Disneyland on some Madhatter's Tea Cup ride...but that's a bit of a tangent).

I don't intend to wax on about coffee for a whole lot of paragraphs—we're recruiting more eminent spokespeople to look after that in forthcoming posts.

I have two coffee-connected thoughts and then I'm done. Two thoughts, two posts.

Thought One: Coffee is a low-cost luxury
This is my slither of a thought. Whether you own half of Turkmenistan, Brazil or Ethiopia, or you study at the government's pleasure, a cup of coffee will cost you roughly the same amount of money. And it can transport you wherever you'd like to go. There's a romance activated by a short macchiato created from beans grown in countries that I haven't been to that doesn't require a plane flight.

Around $3-4 (depending on whether you're having a coffee or a warm milk shake) will give you the excuse to meet up with someone and the lubricant for the conversation. It will provide the prop to hold on to for those awkward moments and grasp with steadying assurance during unfolding revelations or ecstacy. A friend of mine and me effectively rented a booth at a café in Leederville one public holiday for 6 hours. The rent was about $1/hour for the two coffees (and numerous waters) we had for the duration. That's great value right there.

It's breathtaking and liberating the permission a little cup gives you to write, to talk, to journal, to read and to dream. And you can do all of these alone or accompanied. Your choice. It's coffee—it's up to you.

In a time when luxury is often displayed with big ticket items, coffee stands head and shoulders above them all as a little piece of repeatable luxury in a cup.

The pinnacle of sport...the pinnacle of design?

2007-06-06T23:17:00.000+08:00

(Revised 7/6/7) Welcome to the branding of the London Olympic Games...just 5 short years away. It seems that perhaps the games organisers know something about the future of design that the rest of the world hasn't grasped just yet. Based on their insights though, Armageddon is just around the corner.

The jagged logo for the London 2012 Olympics has attracted a barrage of criticism, with thousands signing an online petition calling for it to be scrapped.

As if that wasn't bad enough, animated footage of the logo was removed from the London 2012 Olympic Web site amid claims that it could trigger epileptic seizures. The logo cost £400,000 (AU$947,824.01) and took a year to develop.

The London 2012 Web site says: "The new emblem is dynamic, modern and flexible.

"It will work with new technology and across traditional and new media networks."

Critics have said it resembles a "monkey on the toilet" or a "broken swastika."

My mum used to tell me that if I didn't have anything positive to say then I shouldn't say anything, so here's 3 positive things: 1) blue is a pleasant colour, 2) there are no spelling errors, 3) the olympic symbol is a timeless piece of design (a quality seemingly lost in this piece of turgid design - oops, there I go again).

Over 11,000 people have signed a petition to have this logo banned so far. Perhaps you'd like to join them...

There are moments when, in contrast, Comic Sans seems to have some merit.

On reflection, it's been a bit of a downhill slide since 1968...

Stop it! A communal Top 5 (or 50)

2007-06-05T11:41:00.000+08:00

Perhaps this is anti-spacious but, heck, I have so many annoying habits it's worth dragging some of them out into the open.

Every now and then someone near you (it may even be you) does something that you really wish they wouldn't. It might go completely unnoticed by those around you, but to you it's like a high-pitched feedback-like squeal in your ears. Perhaps it's a long sloppy sniff or maybe someone stealing 'your' armrest at a movie. Whatever it is...it irks you and you wish they (you) would stop it.

I'm thinking we get a common Top 5 of sorts on the move. You add your annoying habit (or the habit that you find annoying) and we'll add it to the communal list.

Duplication is ok - it reinforces the degree of communal frustration with the habit!

So, here's the evolving communal list:

1. Sloppy sniffers (tissues are great aren't they?)
2. Noisy eaters
3. People who leave half finished glasses/plates/bowls of stuff around
4. Out of tune singing
5. Bad spelling and pronunciation
6. When something is pronounced 'somethink' and straight is pronounced 'shtraight'.
7. The noise people often make to illustrate hunger - the tongue hitting the roof of their mouth over and over - kills me every time.
8. The sound of anyone eating before midday.
9. The phrase 'touch base'.
10. Unacknowledged smells.
11. the smell of reheated leftovers for office lunches
12. being beeped at by taxi's (kind of only really a peruvian problem)
13. incessant whistling, drumming or humming
14. people who don't understand the delicate laws of air conditioning systems and open windows when you trying to keep the car cool (thus making the car very noisy and hot at 100km/hr so that you can't hear the music).
15. people who make no attempt to make their braking, acceleration, gear changes and cornering as smooth as possible.
16. noisy eating
17. noisy breathing
18. jerky/nervous drivers
19. people who prank rather than wear the cost of a phone call to you
20. knuckle-crackers
21. people who ride the brake...and brake suddenly as though an accident is about to happen (except there isn't another car in sight)
22. ok, I'm naughty, but people who pray mentioning the word father or Lord at a ratio of 1 word to 4 or less
23. People who take your armrest on either side of you on a 13 hour plane ride
24. People who talk during movies and tv
25. People who eat loudly during movies.. actually in general!
26. People who ask if we have running water and electricity in Australia
27. Out of tune singing
28. people without manners or respect for the people around them
29. people who lack spreadsheet data entry skills
30. starbucks baristas
31. overeager shop assistants
32. the man in the apartment above us who spends from 11pm till 2am most nights dragging a chair across the floor of the room above our bedroom.
33. people who talk during movies, gigs, and concert
34. people without manners or respect for the people around them
35. People who try to patronize you when they speak to you
36. nasty smells!
37. Noisy eating, chewing of gum, or simulating eating noises because it sounds 'cool'?
38. The visual of people eating/chewing with their mouths open3. Someone asking me a question and then looking around when I try to give the answer, which I'm only giving to humour their question.
39. over 40's calling a cappucino a "CUPPA-chino".
40. Kicking of others' chairs in church, lectures, meetings. Seriously people, why would you? have you ever turned around to the person behind you and said 'excuse me, I find it distracting that you're not kicking my chair, would you mind just kicking it continuously for the next 45 minutes?" NO, I didn't think so. Enough said.
41. Excessive licking of fingers whilst eating. "I know! lets lick our fingers noisily after every handful of salty chips, then put our hand straight back in the bag so we can do it all again! horrah!"
42. Gum snapping - you know the pop people make by sort of blowing an inside the mouth bubble?
43. people holding occult ceremonies within a 5 metre radius of my personal space, while I'm sleeping.
44. People who say 'youse' instead of 'you' eg. "Hey, youse guys, come over here!"
45. When people use to/too/two incorrectly.
46. Noisy eaters. They definitely annoy me.
47. Pray-ers who say "God, Jesus Father Jesus (?), Lord God, Holy Spirit, we just ask you, Jesus, Father Jesus, Lord" etc. I think he knows his name by now.
48. People who throw litter out of their car. Of course it disappears outside the time/space continuum when you let it fly out the window....
49. People who blame their obnoxious behaviour solely on their personality type. "It's not my fault, don't you know I'm a sanguine/melancholic/cleric?"
and 50...
the sound one of my work-mates makes by pouring water from a juice bottle in a way that sounds like a dog drinking from a water bowl, amplified through a trace-elliot accoustic amp.

Talking 'bout a revolution

2007-05-31T02:20:00.000+08:00

I am currently reading “The Irresistible Revolution – Living as an ordinary radical” by Shane Claiborne. Blue Like Jazz and Velvet Elvis etc are like the PG13 versions – this book is definitely R-Rated Christianity (so to speak, you know what I mean).

I have been avoiding blogging about this book because frankly, I don’t know where to start. Every page is blog-worthy. Furthermore, the content of the book is making me deal with my own Christianity to the point where I do not feel in a position to write about what is going through my head, or my heart. I say that I have to deal with my “Christianity” for the simple reason that it's not my faith that I am struggling with, but the manifestation of that faith, what I’ve been convinced is the normal and right way to act out what I believe, what I can and can’t take notice of and just exactly what is the socially and morally acceptable distance to maintain from the outworking of the love that Jesus has given us (I say this tongue in cheek, of course - the distance should be very short if not negligible!).

So Shane Claiborne wrote this book. It’s a damn good book. It is very challenging, I’ll say it again, very challenging, for a person like me. I grew up a pure-bred; a pastor’s kid who was loved and fed both physically and spiritually in a loving family environment. I have never been underprivileged in any way. Things were never handed to me, but through hard work I know will be able to provide for my wife and family without too much care. We give of our income both inside and outside the church. You’d think that’d get you off the hook when it comes to all those bits in the Bible where Jesus says to give to the poor etc. Shane is beating that mindset out of my thick skull page by page. It’s very uncomfortable for two reasons: 1. It means I have to do something about the inequality around me, and 2. It took a book other than the Bible for me to realize some fairly important stuff about what I believe in.

Shane is young and smart, very smart. Kind of one of those guys you know would have an answer in any debate, because he’s lived it and come to those conclusions himself. He knows the Bible and has put a lot of it into action. He’s worked with Mother Theresa (or Momma T as he calls her), we went to Baghdad when the US were bombing it to bits to be with the Christians there and do church with them, he spends a lot of time living on the streets with the homeless just to love them. He doesn’t have a job but lives in a run down community in the toughest neighborhood in Philadelphia, a community where almost every person is below the poverty line, but they live together and do church together every day, as a lifestyle. The teach each others children, pool their money to meet each others needs, take care of and pray for each other, as a lifestyle. Not as a weekly church meeting, but as a daily personal and corporate mission. He does all of this because he is in search of a real Christian, and that search begins with himself. And the whole crux of the book comes down to three quotes that he uses. The first two are:

“We can not do great things, just small things with great love. It is not how much you do, but how much love you put into doing it” – Mother Theresa.

“Ask the poor, they will tell you who the Christians are” – Gandhi.

The third quote is so significant it needs its own entry on this website, and that’s what is posted in the entry below this one (the one with the Rage bit). Its this last quote which has inspired me the most. I have had a heavy heart when reading this book. I get upset inside about what’s happening to this world, about the materialistic call of the west, the inequality, and a whole bunch of other stuff. The problem is that the upset part is inside, not outside. This book is poking me very hard and relentlessly about doing something. What – I have absolutely no idea. But I think it all boils down to Momma-T’s little quote up there. Choosing to make a difference in every decision I make, the way I react to people, what I do with my money etc etc.

The US Coast Guard has the motto “So That Others May Live”. It’s very noble. They carry out every minute of their working day with this motto in mind (or so the movie “The Guardian” would have you believe). Funny thing, I’m a little scared that as Christians we are (I am) not even close to this realization. What’s my motto? What’s the church’s motto? What’s the motto for my marriage? It's all stuff that’s been poking me very hard.

Anyway. This topic is a can of worms and I have very few answers or even angles from which to debate. I am not trying to form any type of conclusion here; my thinking is far too premature for that. But I guess I’m starting to think about the change in the world that could take place with a little imagination, thanks to Shane, and I think that with the forum of readers that this website draws, the outworking of such change would be very effective for the Kingdom, and a lot of fun. Don’t read Shane’s book if you want to stay comfortable. If you’re not fond of change then I’d suggest you leave it on the shelf in Koorong (or Amazon). But in reading this I think that it should be in the hands of every Christian in the west. I say the west because after reading what Shane says about the Christians in the eastern nations, it’s definitely us who have our sock on the wrong shoe. I’ll leave it at that. Buy the book.

Rage Against The....

2007-05-31T02:12:00.000+08:00

What therefore is our task today? Shall I answer: “faith, hope and love”? That sounds beautiful, but I would say – courage. No, even that is not challenging enough to be the whole truth.

Our task today is recklessness. For what we Christians lack today is not psychology or literature, we lack a holy rage, the recklessness that comes from a knowledge of God and humanity. The ability to rage when justice lies prostrate on the street, and when the lie rages across the face of the earth. A holy anger about the things that are wrong in the world. To rage against the ravaging of God’s earth, and the destruction of God’s world. To rage when little children die of hunger while the tables of the rich are sagging with food. To rage at the senseless killing of so many and against the madness of militaries. To rage at the lie that calls the threat of death and the strategy of destruction “peace”. To rage against complacency, to restlessly seek that recklessness that will challenge and seek to change human history until is conforms to the norms of the Kingdom of God.

Prayer of Kaj Munk, Danish pastor before he was killed by the Gestapo, January, 1944.

Caffeinated words

2007-05-30T22:29:00.000+08:00

I'm working on a design project for a coffee client at the moment and have unearthed a few piquant coffee quotes along the way (and conjured a few of my own). If you've got some grist for the mill, feel free to pony up! There's a coffee in it.

Here's a tidy little fella to ponder:

As soon as coffee is in your stomach, there is a general commotion. Ideas begin to move...similes arise, the paper is covered. Coffee is your ally and writing ceases to be a struggle. (Honore de Balzac)

And here's another good'un:

I never drink coffee at lunch—I find it keeps me up all afternoon (Ronald Reagan)

Calling ye bibliophiles

2007-05-30T13:22:00.000+08:00

So, uhh, like... what are you reading?

Garrick made a comment about wanting the down low on books before investing considerable energy in reading them––and the opportunity cost of an alternative selection otherwise foregone. I figured it'd be a good time to take a snapshot of what the Cacophonites are reading right now. So:

• what are you reading?
• give us your take on its merits (but don't spoil it)
• who do you think would dig it?

What I want read at my funeral

2007-05-30T12:20:00.000+08:00

Do you know the first name of your great-great-grandfather? I don’t. And he was still alive only 80 years ago. Which means that unless we invent something incredibly useful or do something particularly noteworthy, about 80 years after we die, probably sooner, no-one will know our names, let alone what music we hated, what political party we voted for and who we loved.

Psalm 103 backs this up: “As for man, his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and its place remembers it no more”.

For some people, death is simply where life ends. Life is a brilliant burst of light, a bright spark, and then darkness. Yesterday at my grandpa’s funeral, the celebrant read out something about Pop being in eternal rest and peace so we should remember him fondly and cherish the memories. I can partly understand how the idea of being extinguished could be comforting, especially to someone who had watched their partner suffer from the effects of cancer. But don’t we long for something more lasting, more meaningful? Like Nan said with tears in her eyes last Friday, the day Pop died, her 60 years with him wasn’t long enough — twice as long wouldn’t have been enough.

At Pop’s funeral we heard a brief record of 83 years lived. There is no doubt he was a faithful husband, loving father and devoted grandfather. The reality is that in 80 years, the life of Morris Lionel Green will be forgotten. His casket was lowered into the ground (although I heard my Nan suggest it should rise upwards) and we filed past with tears in our eyes. Thirty minutes later, a fresh group of mourners met in the same spot to mourn the loss of another person.

At my funeral, I don’t want a fluffy poem about memories. I think I’ll have Psalm 103, because we might have been formed from dust and will one day return to dust, but this is not where it ends — “From everlasting to everlasting the Lord’s love is with those who fear him”.

“Praise the Lord ... who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion.”

Comic Sans will give you cancer

2007-05-29T16:42:00.000+08:00

Yeah, probably not actually. But maybe... Anyway, I found these articles on Slate about the fonts people write in, and it got me thinking...

I wrote my honours thesis in Garamond; it seemed an appropriate choice for a work of architectural history. Not particularly easy to read (because architects don’t believe in comfort), pretentiously attractive (because architects believe in that sort of sexy above most everything) and slightly unexpected (because the only thing that trumps ‘sexy’ is ‘individual’ – as long as it wears head-to-toe black like all the other individuals). I love architects, really I do…

I’m back at uni now, hanging with the baby lawyers, and I still use Garamond. These days, it’s about being a mature-ager with history and associations, visually separating myself from the Times-and-Arial infants. Although you can tell they’ve grown up with this stuff; the fortnightly faculty gossip sheet credits a Layout and Design Officer

Work is all Arial, with Trebuchet headings. It reads as code for ‘trust us, we’re from the (naffly hip, and therefore trustworthy) government’. Like we’re Tony Blair, Triangulating The Third Way. Personally, I’d like to see something with a serif so I could pretend working for the executive branch was just like The West Wing, but I think WA's Sunny Frontier mentality singes the serifs off…

Anyway, my question is: what do you use, and why?

Premature celebration

2007-05-29T10:21:00.000+08:00

You were running a good race. Who cut in on you and kept you from obeying the truth?

Well, actually mate, you did it all on your own.

Don't you know who I am?!

2007-05-28T12:33:00.000+08:00

My friend Justine told me a story yesterday about the most irate customer she'd ever had to deal with. She was working with a large national furniture company (known for their liberation) while the customer was the figurehead of a prominent wine company (two names, '&' in the middle). In the course of an animated discussion that followed some goods being damaged through the rough handling of the customers' courier company, the customer, demanding a replacement, began to explode down the phone: 'Don't you know who I am?'.

On and on, louder and louder...'Don't you know who I am?'...'Don't you know who I am?'. Aside from being rude and obnoxious, I was tickled that someone actually used the phrase seriously. I've heard people use it in jest, never legit.

It got me thinking: How often do we, by our words and actions (or maybe our thoughts), exclaim at some level: 'Don't you know who I am?'.

How often does someone wrong us, or treat us differently to how we feel we deserve, or ignore our needs and we respond somewhere inside, 'Don't you know who I am?'

We all crave justice—particularly for ourselves. Perhaps we all crave a level of recognition too. We want to be treated consistent with 'our station'...whatever that is. And when we're not, we feel wronged in some way.

And then there's Jesus...

Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross!

Jesus, who had every right to demand authority, every right to assert dominion and every right to reign and rule, asserted none of these things. Paul tells us here in Philippians that he actually does the complete opposite...he becomes a servant. Interestingly, given that he was 'in very nature God', he was all these things all the same. Yet he had no need to assert authority—it was recognised in Him.

Isaiah tells us that: He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth. And yet the lamb to the slaughter is also the Lion of Judah. Only Jesus makes sense of this kind of tautology by modeling it. Mark writes Him saying: 'If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all'.

But...Don't you know who I am?

We discover that, for Jesus, the answer was absolute: Yes.

Jesus revealed to us what the Kingdom of God looks like in contrast to what often prevails on earth. His ministry was chiefly about this revelation and become the means by which we are restored to God. That restoration is, in large part, a growing understanding of the economy of the Kingdom of God as opposed to what we've commonly experienced. And the two are a whole lot different.

I guess the bigger question is: 'Don't you know who He is?'

As we discover who Jesus is, we discover all we are because of Him. We also discover who we're not. As Luke wrote in Acts: 'It's in Him we live and move and have our being'. Paul wrote to the Ephesians: 'It's in Christ that we find out who we are and what we're living for'. I don't think we get this once and are done with it. Discovering who He is a continual process. A journey, a wrestle, and in a completely tautological fashion, as we lay down our lives we discover what it means to be human. Better still, part of a new humanity.

Conversations like this could (and often do) go on forever. This one is going to stop in blog form real soon. But not without action. The laying down of our agendas to follow him is active after all. Paul's all about action in Philippians:

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:

Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus...

Do you know who you are?

Are you an appendage?

2007-05-25T09:24:00.000+08:00

Pretty sure I am.

Kevin Rudd's not though. Neither is his wife.

Rudd revealed his sensitive side yesterday, telling Australia he believes women have the right to be independent beings, not just appendages to "middle-aged men".

In the process of dropping the 'A' word a whole lot of people got pretty excited.

Thoughts?

Who do you belong to?

2007-05-25T08:43:00.000+08:00

Football fans will need scant introduction to Kaka, a Brazillian playing for AC Milan who played a big part in getting his side across the line in the UEFA Champions League final last night against Liverpool. His real name is Ricardo Izecson Santos but Ricardo's little brother couldn't bash out that complicated name and went with Kaka. It stuck.

I opened my Australian this morning to Kaka celebrating AC Milan's win. It's easy to pay out on bumper stickers and anything that makes you squirm...but my hat's off to this guy.

For starters, he's a tidy football player.

And he features a tidy version of Leonard Cohen's 'Hallelujah' that I don't think I've heard before on his website (well, one of his plethora of websites).

Then there's the way he celebrates a goal. From another website: Kaka is a nice guy, very religious, very family man. You can see that he points his fingers to the sky when he scores a goal. He does that to thank Jesus for healing him from a very serious injury that could have ended his football career.

Here's Kaka (I keep wanting to type Kafka, but I'm hanging in there) celebrating last night's win:

And the gear:

Now, I don't know Kaka beyond some websites, a newspaper, the occasional football match and AAP Reuters, but I'd love to hear what a t-shirt like this triggers in you. Spacious?

Only bad things happen quickly (ceteris paribus)

2007-05-23T22:55:00.000+08:00

I'm (occasionally) reading through a book Too Soon Old, Too Late Smart - 30 true things you need to know now. It's an eloquent and incisive read but, at the end of the day, it probably fits most neatly in the 'pop-psychology' genre. I'm ever learning though: truth can be found in a multitude of places. It's available to everyone. And it points us to God.

In a society based on consumption, instant gratification's easy to spot. We crave instant results. We want to drop 10kg in the first week of our diet. We want to run 10km without training (and without blisters). We want to experience intimacy without investing time.

A friend told me recently of the number of people standing in line for Australian Idol who proudly boasted they'd never had a singing lesson, yet couldn't sing to save themselves either. We don't want reward for effort; we want a manifold return for simply showing up.

Gordon Livingstone, the author of the book I mentioned earlier, reflects this thought:

Somewhere along the line we became an impatient people, expecting quick answers to our difficulties...

The process of building has always been slower and more complicated than that of destruction. Wisdom is gifted over time. Love grows richer over time. Investments mature over time. Fitness accrues one step at a time. Degrees are acquired through study over time.

While epiphanies, miracles and supernatural interventions are a reality for the People of God, the greater part of our journey is a steady walk—the glad ox as my friend Brad puts it. One foot in front of the other. A deep furrow of wholeness, discipline, love and community.

While the initial reorientation prompted by repentance may be a radical change, it is honed by degrees. One foot in front of the other.

We crave the miracle relationship and the serendipitous chance meeting with our soon-to-be-lifetime-soulmate. And granted, these moments happen. Thank God. Yet there is still a journey of soulcraft that invariably precipitates that glittering moment. A steady refining of the character that makes union a possibility. A refining that leads to people finding joy in each other and in God that didn't come cheaply or without change.

Eugene Peterson, in Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places, writes sweetly:

We are here to be formed over our lifetimes into a community of the beloved, God's beloved who are being formed into a people who love God and one another in the way and on the terms in which God loves us. It's slow work. We are slow learners. And though God is unendingly patient with us, we are not very patient with ourselves or one another.

Our transformation is daily and requires what Petersen articulates Paul's word to the church at Rome as passionate patience. Passionate patience is not grim or masochistic—it's laden with hope and expectation. It's not a come-back-in-a-year-and-see-what-happened kind of patience; it's the watchman waiting, it's the lighthouse keeper monitoring every movement to see what might happen next. And it's active. Passion is active. There's work to be done in the waiting and in the walking...and we're not shy about that work.

And just because the journey of goodness is gradual, it doesn't mean it's boring. It's good. Both in the moment and along the way. It can be a wild ride of gradual goodness. And increasingly good. Albeit with excursions and tangents, excuses and sidestreets, but also with a rich, evolving, integrated story.

The prophet Habukkuk wrote:

Write this. Write what you see. Write it out in big block letters so that it can be read on the run. This vision-message is a witness pointing to what's coming. It aches for the coming—it can hardly wait! And it doesn't lie. If it seems slow in coming, wait. It's on its way. It will come right on time.

Bad things tend to happen quickly. Good things take time. Take your time.

The New Yorker and a design classic

2007-05-23T18:15:00.000+08:00

While the New Yorker is a classic in itself, I received an email today from one of my favourite stores, Remo, promoting a t-shirt design featuring one of the New Yorkers all-time classic covers. So, complete with working drawings, photos of the creators as well as the final artwork, here's the story behind it. I'll hand it over to Remo from here:

New Yorkistan is an original design that became the cover art for the 10 December 2001 edition of The New Yorker magazine. It was created by longtime REMO friend Maira Kalman in collaboration with new friend, illustrator Rick Meyerowitz, and is, according to the American Society of Magazine Editors, #14 on the list of the top 40 magazine covers of the past 40 years.

The design depicts the boroughs of New York City, as well as individual neighborhoods within the city, giving each a name a "funny mixture of Yiddish, Farsi, and New Yorkisms" based on the history or geography of that area of the city: Lubavistan, Kvetchnya, Irate, Irant, Mooshuhadeen, Schmattahadeen, Yhanks, Feh, Fattushis, Fuhgeddabouditstan, Hiphopabad, Bad, Veryverybad, Khakis and Kharkeez (in Connecticut), and so on ...

The response to New Yorkistan was overwhelming. The magazine disappeared from newsstands in two days, becoming the best selling issue of The New Yorker in history.

Some Background: By early November 2001 the people of New York had settled into a deep funk. The ramifications of September 11 had set in and the war against the Taliban had begun in Afghanistan. "When their cover came out, suddenly a dark cloud seemed to lift" ... according to a glowing piece by Sarah Boxer in the 8 December edition of the New York Times. She went on:

"New Yorkers were mad for the map. They laughed. They shared it. They recited their favorite joke names on the map, making sure you had the proper Yiddish: the name Gribines (for the Hudson River) means chicken cracklings. They checked out your cultural knowledge: Blahniks (the Upper East Side) is where everyone can afford Manolo Blahnik shoes. What? You don't understand. Youdontunderstandistan? You should be banished to Outer Perturbia (somewhere on Long Island). Perhaps not since Steinberg's drawing had New Yorkers pored over a magazine cover so long. Of course, the maps are totally different. Steinberg's is a delicate drawing done in perfect perspective, with fully realized cars and little witty dotted lines separating Canada from Chicago and Mexico from Washington. The drawing by Ms. Kalman and Mr. Meyerowitz is flat and naïve. Aside from a funny perplexed camel standing in the middle of Stan (Staten Island), the humor is all verbal."

According to Maira, the inspiration for the cover arose in a car on the way to a party. She and Rick were talking about tribalism. At one point she came up with the idea of "Bronxistan", to which Rick replied "You know, we've got a map here." Originally, the picture was to be run on the back page of the magazine, but editors liked it so much that it was decided to make it the cover picture. (Indeed, you'll note, if you look carefully, that the original art been stretched to fit the full height proportion of the magazine.)

The napkin of an idea...

The development of a napkin...
The coloured-in version
The creators...
The final illustration:The way the public saw it on the newstands:

Running for Enlightenment?

2007-05-23T15:05:00.000+08:00

So a few of us got together—Johnson in Accounting, Jenkins in Dispatch and a couple of the guys in Sales—and we've devised a little test for you to join our club.

It's going to take you about 7 years but here's what we're thinking: run 40km per day for 100 consecutive days in the each year for 3 years, then up it to 40km per day for 200 consecutive days in years 4 and 5, in the 6th year run 60km per day for 100 consecutive days and cap it off with 84km each day for 100 consecutive days in year 7.

Too easy?

Well, if the thought of 900 marathons over 7 years doesn't fatigue you at all, then perhaps you wouldn't mind doing them in straw sandals, on a light vegetarian diet, while carrying books and reciting a mantra?

Meet the Buddhist Tendai Marathon Monks who seek to attain enlightenment through running, alot. Since 1885, only 46 have completed the 1,000 day spiritual challenge.

Is there anything we can learn from the marathon monks?

Packaging by Prime Numbers

2007-05-23T02:34:00.000+08:00

This post has very little intelligence associated with it at all, but seeks to raise a senseless question or two.

So the deal is we're in the US and we buy some gum. Wrigleys doublemint sticks to be exact. It was a jumbo pack which I thought was a great idea as it would go the distance. But here's the thing: I've been chewing on this stuff daily for over two weeks now, offering it to friends etc. It occurred to me today, as I extracted yet another stick from the package: just how long is this thing going to last? Have I actually purchased the 5 loaves and 2 fish equivalent of chewing gum?

Closer inspection of the packaging reveals that the jumbo pack holds 17 sticks of gum. 17; a prime number, not divisible by anything but itself. Why create a pack of 17? You cannot distribute such a package evenly with anyone but yourself, it's not that conducive to sharing unless it's with 17 people but I've yet to be able to organise a gum chewing event with more than 4 people. So who in the world decided 17 was a good number for chewing gum?

I can understand packaging in other primes, e.g. 1, 2, 3, 5 all make sense. God was fairly big on multiples of 7. 11 is fairly odd, but we all understand the logic behind a bakers dozen of 13. You don't tend to see primes much higher than this though, not often you buy a 29 pack of anything, of 53 for that matter unless you strike it lucky in a box of matches, or are fortunate enough to get that little bit extra value out of a roll of 100 sheets of toilet paper. (By the way, a family from my church in NZ once appeared on NZ's Fair Go program, a slightly more legal equivalent to Today Tonight, because in a night of outrageous family bonding they'd counted every sheet in a 12-pack of 100-sheet rolls of toilet paper and found that none of them added up to 100 per roll. As a result they winded up with a years supply of the stuff; not conducive to popularity in the school playground but a great way to save on the grocery bill).

So this entry has no point, but if you can come up with a spiritual, theological, or simply logical reason for 17 sticks of gum, then I'm all ears.

In praise of mediated texts

2007-05-21T18:52:00.000+08:00

There are plenty of reasons why Simon and Fi’s ‘One Day in July’ holds the top spot on my Weddings-O-Friends Leaderboard and one of them is a cd. Seventeen songs attended my way on the drive to New Norcia last year, and they’ve attended most of the social events held at the Bessell Vessel since then too. As a cd, it’s a perfect mix of sweet songs and true songs and songs by Michael Jackson and it plays beautifully when driving or drinking coffee. But I don’t love it for the songs; I love it for what it tells me about Simon and Fi and the plans they had for that day.

A High Fidelity friend put together some cds for my birthday, and by the third time through, I realized that I actually have a thing for mixes. When I buy a cd, it takes ages to get beyond the assessment stage – do I like it, should I have spent the money, am I going to end up stashing the darn thing with the other embarrassing mistakes, Gwen…? But the HFF has pretty reliable (if firm) views on the tunes, so I came to it expecting good stuff – and there it was. Sure, there were surprises. And some stuff I can only shake my head at. Still, the whole thing feels like a meandering, generous, disputative conversation, and I like it.

It got me thinking: there are actually lots of things that I like better when they’re mediated through someone with a point of view. Thus: Nick Hornby published a collection of columns he wrote about books he’d bought and books he’d read, and it was officially the best thing that happened to me last summer. It helps that Nick can reliably elicit a chuckle and a half per page, but I felt like I’d read all the good bits, and skated lightly over the stodgy bits of the things he’d read. It was like getting dessert without having to eat my veggies, and given that the proportion of carrots to carrot cake in my reading diet is getting really out of hand, that was a Very Good Thing.

I haven’t had a tv for a while now, and I don’t miss it, mostly because I experience secondhand programming through televisionwithoutpity.com; it’s a case of secondhand being very definitely not second best. So, for example, I don’t care at all about American Idol – I don’t even care about Australian Idol – but host-of Ryan Seacrest as a cross between Frankenstein’s monster and Dorian Gray? Heh… Who’da thought a karaoke competition habitually won by outfits rather than singers could work better without sound or visuals?

Oh yeah. Remember the slow bits in Spiderman 3? (Which ones, you say? All of ‘em.) Now imagine sitting through them with the phrase ‘Evil Space Licorice’ running through your head. Way better, right? OK, I rarely go into a movie without being able to give a pretty good précis of the major plot points. But I’m happy to give up being surprised in favour of being able to greet Spidey’s nemesis like an old friend. Dana and David come to the movies with me and they're good people to hang with.

It would be nice to have a point to make here. Maybe something about experiencing God through other people? The importance of both creation and interpretation? How 'bout: I'll bake for mixtapes!

New Norcia Reflections: Confession

2007-05-19T20:00:00.000+08:00

I read through a book today titled 'Confessions of a Pastor' by Craig Groeschel. Perhaps inspired by one of the 100 things you should do in your life post (Read through a book in one sitting) or, more likely, because I simply had the opportunity.

Groeschel, Senior Pastor at LifeChurch, comes clean about a bunch of stuff. The sub-title, 'Adventures in dropping the pose and getting real with God' gives you some idea where the book heads. In 10 chapters he confesses to plenty with chapters like: I Can't Stand a Lot of Christians; I Have to Work Hard to Stay Sexually Pure; Most of the Time I Feel Incredibly Lonely; I Hate Prayer Meetings; I Stink at Handling Criticism and I'm Afraid of Failure.

It's well worth a read. And it got me thinking. I write from New Norcia Benedictine Community - a community where confession is fundamental to spiritual wholeness. It's not a 'hang it out there' kind of confession that's broadcasted on your local Christian TV channel, but it's a 'deal with it and move forward' kind of confession.

Confession and repentance go hand in hand. Often they work together or are the catalyst for one another. Confession is only purposeful in concert with repentance (I'll have to have a think as to whether I agree with that last sentence later). Talking about it without the intent and desire to turn in another direction becomes hollow. John the Baptist preached to that end in Luke 3:8 saying 'produce fruits worthy of your repentance'.

What I discovered again as I read through Confessions is that as we drop the pose, as we become more transparent, and as become more vulnerable, we simultaneously become more human. Our bravado and our charade hides our reality and before too long we can forget who we are beneath the layers of try-hard effort.

As we drop the pose we also allow God to work in and through us. It's hard (or impossible) for God to work in and through our charade...He can break in on it but not work on it. After all, it's not us to start with! When we get real though, when we get repentant, we give God a shot at transforming us.

I've always thought that the Bible verses that become our life verses can say as much about our own condition as they do about Jesus' saving grace.

I'm often writing about Galatians 6:4-5 which says: 'Make a careful exploration of who you are and the work you have been given, and then sink yourself into that. Don't be impressed with yourself. Don't compare yourself with others. Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life.'

Many times a week I wake up or go to sleep recounting Psalm 139. Aside from being a beautifully poetic Psalm, it reminds me that I'm treasured by my heavenly Father.

Here's the thing: within those two passages are three of my confessions.

First, I compare myself to others more than I ought - that's why I need to remind myself not to and remind myself that it's about what I'm meant to be doing more than what you're meant to be doing!

Second, I tend towards extremes. It's probably why I write so many posts under the 'Strenuous Wholeness' label. I overrate myself and become prideful in one breath, then pay out on myself and crucify myself in the next. Somewhere in between is a health that's only attained through soulcraft (strenuous wholeness) and God's love. The Galatians passage reminds me not to be impressed with myself, but to do the creative best with my own life. Period.

Third (and not finally, because there'd be much more to confess to if I wanted to punish you) is that I need to be reminded of God's unconditional love for me. Psalm 139 and verses like 1 John 3:1 remind me of this. They remind me I cannot run from His love, nor hide from his hand. 139 reminds me that nothing comes as a surprise to God and that he knows the script long before I play it out. And it reminds me that that He guides us on towards eternity.

Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there be any wicked way in me and lead me in the way everlasting. (Ps.139:23-24)

Our openness before an omniscient God isn't really hanging it out there too much. It's ourselves we risk being honest with. The upside is tangibly huge...

How about you? Any life verses to get out there? Any confessions that could move you towards an authentic humanity in Christ?

Just wondering...

New Norcia Reflections: Servanthood

2007-05-18T21:39:00.000+08:00

I've retreated to New Norcia this weekend - a monastic town a couple of hours north of Perth by car. I come here often for quite reflection, recalibration and refueling. Basically the equivalent of a car service...but for the soul. Sometimes it's that stuff I come away with. Other times it's more serendipitous.

Eating with the monks is always a treat. Aside from the silent nature of the meals, there's always something on the reading list to pique the curiousity. It's monastic practice not talk during meals, but to have one of the monks read. The meal is considered an extension of the prayers that precede the meal. Tonight it was Colossians 4 then 1 Thessalonians 1 and then into a book on Western Australia's legal system from 1829-2005 - a natural segue I thought.

At the meal's end, the reading monk runs over the 'necrology'. For those who don't delve into a necrology after each meal, it's a recounting (in this context) of the various monks of this order who died on this day (May 18) over the years. They are cited for remembrance and prayer (some interesting theology there but we'll keep moving). The necrology tonight remembered, among others, a monk from Subiaco in Italy who was a 'retired abbot'. This got me thinking: abbots retire. In an order where a vow takes 3-5 years to genuinely 'begin' - and then lasts a lifetime - the abbot (the father of the community) can retire.

Outside of the dining room where it's fine to resume normal conversation, I approached the Abbott. "According to the necrology, Abbot's retire", I said.

He replied: "Yes, at the age of 75, the Abbot offers his retirement to his superiors in Rome who then consider if they will reject it or, if they consider there may be grounds for change, they will put it to the vote within the local monastic community".

He continued: "This is interesting for me...I'm 75 next year".

Failing to betray my transient evangelical piece of turf, I enquired: "Do you have any sense of what you'll do?" To which he gave a great reply: "I am a monk. It is not for me to think about these things. If they have thoughts on it, they will let me know".

"You serve at His pleasure", I added. He nodded knowingly.

As I walked away, the first verse that came to mind was Paul telling the Corinthians that he was a 'slave to Christ'. In an age when we deliberate over the ways we can be most effective for the Kingdom or seek out opportunities where we can shine our light the brightest, the Abbot in four words reminded me of my purpose. I am a slave...to Christ.

Beyond all else, followers of Christ exist for His good pleasure and His glory. Wherever we find ourselves or see ourselves, it is our honour to serve the Master. Sure that service will take on many hues, textures and flavours, but they are all informed by humility and servanthood.

"All's fair in love and war"

2007-05-17T13:53:00.000+08:00

I don't buy this little proverb. I know it’s about the end justifying the means, but I have found that neither love, nor war is at all fair on anyone!

I couldn’t think of two things that strip people of fairness, especially individuals, more than love and war. I would go as far as to ask that if you have found your experience of love to be completely fair to you – is the state you’re experiencing really love? Despite the denial of this fairness to an individual caught up, the stories of beauty and glory shine brighter than the darkness that marks our individual and corporate history.

And it’s these stories that we like to remember in the adventure of love and war. Perhaps we realize that fairness really isn’t the point. Even-handed treatment of everybody doesn’t allow us the opportunity to be truly human. As Christians we believe that we carry certain characteristics of God. We are Imago Dei – made in his image and I would propose that it is not our physical characteristics that are his image, though all those anthropomorphisms in the Bible help us to think that way. What if the image we carry is more qualitative?

God is a god of sacrificial love and don’t we feel so real, so alive, when we say “hang fairness, I’ll give more than I will receive in this relationship”? We understand horror and injustice exist in our world, but it is in the face of this that we arise and show our mettle. We fight individually and as a community because sometimes we believe Goodness or some ideal is worth fighting for. Does this remind us of the Creator, and also of who we are? Redemption, the choice of love, jealousy and high ideals ring so true with us because Truth himself epitomizes these things.

I’m not sure I’ll ever understand love, or war, but I’m starting to see why the stories of both occupy my mind and heart. Perhaps the occasional unjustice of it all is another opportunity, another chance to become who I am, to be like my God, to rise above easy fairness and pour myself out for someone else.

Top 5: Things you gotta do

2007-05-17T10:18:00.000+08:00

National Australia Bank (or nab if you're hip and in the 'hood) have a campaign going at the moment. As part of it, there's a list floating around that details '100 things you should do in your life'. Without making a deal of what should and shouldn't be there, have a crack at pulling out your Top 5 from things you haven't done up to this point.

1. kiss a movie star
2. swim with a dolphin
3. take the next taxi to the airport and catch the next plane anywhere
4. run a marathon
5. love your body
6. travel from coast to coast across Australia
7. own a tailor made suit
8. plant a tree
9. do something you fear
10. do a stand-up routine at a comedy club
11. bunjee jump
12. eat something you've caught
13. skydive
14. run with the bulls in Pamplona
15. learn to tango
16. make fire without matches
17. teach someone to read
18. watch a lunar eclipse
19. have your portrait painted
20. win a premiership
21. brew your own beer
22. go to the opening night of the ballet
23. buy cowboy boots in Nashville
24. be an extra in a film
25. become the next internet phenomenon
26. walk the red carpet at an awards night
27. grow a moustache
28. be able to take compliments
29. shower under a waterfall
30. fall in love in Paris
31. break up in Rome
32. sit for a day in the gallery in Parliament House
33. go to the film festival in Cannes
34. spend a night in a haunted house
35. write a song
36. read a book in one sitting
37. got to the World Cup final
38. visit Gallipoli
39. have a White Christmas in Lapland
40. grow your hair long
41. hug a stranger everyday for a week
42. go white-water rafting
43. dance in Grand Central Station
44. score a hole-in-one
45. talk to a stranger on a bus
46. ride a motorbike on the open road
47. learn to juggle
48. collect something pointless
49. own a convertible
50. play a guitar on the steps of Madison Square Gardens
51. learn to fly a helicopter
52. yodel on a Swiss mountain
53. drive the MOnaco GP circuit on a Vespa
54. see all of Billy Wilder's films
55. create a cult website and sellit for millions
56. join a dig for dinosaur bones
57. see the Wallabies play England at Tickenham
58. ride the biggest roller-coaster in the world
59. see a killer whale in the wild
60. coach a kids' sports team
61. memorise a poem
62. become sometone's nemesis
63. shoot a short film
64. start your own business
65. visit Stonehenge and recreate the scene from Spinal Tap
66. buy a share of a racehorse
67. walk the Kakoda Track
68. get a tattoo
69. learn CPR
70. sit courtside at a Lakers' game
71. play lead guitar in a band
72. meet someone with your own name
73. shape your own surfboard
74. gallop a horse on a deserted beach
75. play patanque
76. work in a soup kitchen on Christmas Day
77. have a star named after you
78. drive along Route 66
79. experience weightlessness
80. live overseas
81. run up the Rocky steps at the Philadelphia Museum of Art
82. climb to Everest Base Camp
83. drink tequila in Mexico
84. create a world record
85. invent the next must-have Christmas toy
86. be a contestant in a game show
87. learn the piano accordian but vow never to play it
88. go on a safari
89. become your team's mascot
90. enter the Archibald Prize
91. pay it forward
92. milk a cow
93. become carbon neutral
94. get your dream job
95. fly in a hot air balloon across the desert
96. own an original work of art
97. shout the bar
98. dive with the sharks
99. grow your own vegtables
100. design your own cocktail.

Pick five. Any five. So long as you haven't already done it.

The Cacophony Interviews: May 2007 Michael Dunjey, Everest Climber

2007-05-15T18:03:00.000+08:00

In the early hours of Friday morning, May 11, Michael Dunjey re-entered Australian airspace having spent the better part of two months on Mount Everest. His ascent ended at the oxygen-rare height of 7300m when he was forced to retreat to Base Camp or put his team (and the future of his fingers) in jeopardy. Over lunch and a couple of short macs, Simon Elliott and Brad Birt caught up with him to check out his hands, to talk everything from the mountain, to bowel movements, to the future, and kick off The Cacophony Interview Series.

C: Welcome home mate, it's good to see you in one piece. It looks as though you've left a few kilograms on the mountain...

MD: Yeah, about 8 kilograms. I went up 84kg, right now I'm 76kg. Interestingly, mountain climbing at altitude is the only form of exercise where you lose muscle before fat. I've still got some handles to hold on to.

C: What's great about being back at sea-level?

MD: Well, for starters, that's where Aimee (MD's wife) lives. But there's plenty more besides: breathing easily, getting your appetite back, eating multiple breakfast lunch and dinners, and enjoying simple pleasure like going to the toilet and having a shower. And, in time, it will be fun catching up with friends and family.

C: How often did you shower on the mountain?

MD: About once a week. And changed underwear at similar intervals. Obviously you can explore all the configurations of a single set of underwear before you've really got a problem.

C: And bowel movements on the mountain?!

MD: Well, at Base Camp it's reasonably civil. There's a small tent. It's smells feral but it's warm...and on Everest, anything warm is pretty good. Once you're getting further up the mountain it becomes a little trickier. You don't want to expose anything for too long (and at some temperatures it's not all that easy to locate through 6 inches of insulation). Exposure is a serious problem. We use a pee-bottle at night and for the weightier offerings zip-lock bags come in handy—these get jettisoned on the mountain the next day. Our climbing gear has easy access backsuits so it's not too hard although a few climbers have been known to make deposits in their hoods in error.

C: Yikes.

MD: Not me mind you.

C: Sure. What's the view like at 7300m?

MD: Well the summit looks incredibly close (although in reality it's 18 hours away). It's quite incredible really. For so many years I've looked at photos of every passage of Everest and studied it closely, so in someways nothing comes as a surprise...except that you're actually ON the mountain. Probably one of the most common phrases that got swapped between team members was 'hey guys, we're climbing Everest'. For all of us this was a dream that had been coming a long, long time and being there was almost surreal at times.

From 6500m you can see the summit really clearly and from there you really just want to get on with it. You find yourself being continually reminded by the magnitude of the moment...and the sheer and absolute exhaustion it brings.

C: What was the toughest part?

MD: Without doubt it was the first climb half way up the Khumbu Icefall. While we all knew this was about acclimatisation, nothing could have prepared us for this. We came down that day shattered, exhausted and demoralised. We'd gone through severe 'mountain shock' which our guide told us was quite typical. In some ways it was reassuring to know that many before us (and all of us on the team) felt as distraught. I've never been so exhausted.

C: Tell us more about the team...

MD: For starters, I was the only member who hadn't run a marathon. All the others had run marathons and ultra-marathons. Two had completed the Hawaiian Ironman Triathlon and another a 1000km bike race. They were super-fit.

C: Did they have any understanding of your eclectic musical tastes?

MD: I kept it reasonably hidden. I told them of my passion for Celine but, to be honest, I'm pretty sure they thought I was joking.

C: And how did they regard the physical aspect of the climb?

MD: Without exception, everyone who had run a marathon likened each climbing day past Base Camp to the intensity of a marathon. Even the easiest of days was compared to a marathon—similar exertion, similar side-effects, less oxygen. Most mountain-climbers peak around 45-60 years old. Chuck, probably the strongest on our team, was also the old guy. At 63, Chuck could climb like a ridiculously accomplished 30 year old. There were many like him, but none stronger or fitter. He was astounding.

C: How dangerous was it?

MD: We all knew it was dangerous. We'd all heard of people whose life was taken on the mountain. Every Everest season there's casualties. In a way though, you hear about it so much that you become numb to the risks. That all changed when we saw it firsthand.

C: Tell us about it.

MD: In short, one of the sherpas for another team hiked past us while we were climbing between Camp One and Camp Two. He was on his way from Base Camp to Camp Two (the sherpas typically, and super-humanly, take two camps at a time). Four hours later we saw him carried down the mountain. He was killed by a chunk of ice hitting his head. We were radioed ahead to let us know he had been killed and then radioed again to let us know that the body was only 10 minutes away. He was quite a legend of the mountain it seemed as 20 grieving sherpas carried him—wrapped in sleeping bags and on a stretcher—back down the mountain. It was a reminder to our whole team how dangerous this mountain could be.

C: Have their been many lives lost so far this season?

MD: Only two that I know of, but May is the month for Everest fatalities because it's when everyone is at the dangerous altitudes.

C: Recount the story that lead to you coming back to Base Camp.

MD: I was leading the team on that day. Until that point the attempt was flawless. The previous few days my hands had been cold but when you're climbing Everest it's quite expected. On this day one of the guides told me I needed to prepare to use some equipment on my bag for the next part of the climb. After fumbling around for a few minutes I realised that I couldn't open my bag—my hands weren't working. The guide asked me to take off my gloves and show him. My fingers were already turning black. He told me I'd need to head back to Base Camp.

C: What are some of the thoughts that went through your head when you realised that summiting was no longer a possibility?

MD: I think I had 60 seconds of complete denial before I realised that it was a pragmatic and objective decision. I couldn't operate my equipment. It became an easy call. In all our preparations we had it drilled into us: don't leave flesh on the mountain—the mountain will still be there, your body parts will be gone forever. The decision was simple. I would have endangered my self and my team.

C: What if you'd kept on going?

MD: Well, for a start i would have lost a number of fingers. It would have meant trying to hide it from the others and that would have been irresponsible...it would have put the whole expedition in jeopardy.

C: If you'd have been at 8800m (50 metres from the summit), what would you have done?

MD: Gone for it! But I wasn't, I was 18 hours away and while in the context of an 8 week trip I had completed the toughest sections of the mountain and the lion's share of it, we still had a way to go.

C: In retrospect, is there anything you could have done differently?

MD: Frustratingly, yes. While I was wearing two layers of gloves, I could have been wearing the third, high-altitude mitt. This glove restricts a lot of function and is simply thumb and mitt. Had I put this on an hour before (or three days before) things may have been different. To put them on though would have meant stopping the pack that I was leading and unpacking to retrieve these gloves. I didn't want to hold up the team...and I obviously didn't know the extent of my problems.

C: What was the reaction of the team to you having to abort the summit attempt?

MD: They didn't actually find out until they came back down to Base Camp. The group is near each other on the climbs but still stretched out a fair bit. So you're not really aware of all the tales of the day's climb until you're back at the camp. They were great about it though. They had a Celebration Dinner for me which was great of them. Climbers know how quickly fortunes can change on the mountain. Everything needs to go right on each climbing day for you to successfully summit. It's like the Olympic marathon winner—they may not be the best athlete in the field, but they're the athlete that it all came together for on the day. Realistically, I was probably in the top quartile of the climbers in our team...but anything can happen.

C: What was it like back down the mountain?

MD: A bit funny really. You're holed up in one of three 5-star hotels that are filled up with 400 climbers who have all had to succumb to the mountain. We called each other the 'Everest-Rejects'. 600 try the mountain each year; if it was that easy these hotels wouldn't be full of limping climbers with bodies in various stages of disrepair.

C: How are your hands now?

MD: As I came down the mountain, I had stop at 15 minute intervals and put my hands under the armpits of my guide to preserve them. It might sound nasty, but I'd rather have my hands. All ten fingers were dead white and wooden or glassy to the touch and well on their way to freezing. We were just below Camp 3 but to spend the night at that height and in the cold conditions would have been stupid with my hands in that condition.

My guide accompanied me back to Camp 2. I was placed on bottled oxygen immediately. This aids directly in returning circulation to the extremities. My hands were placed in a warm bath of water for the next hour. Who knows how bad my fingers may have got. But I feel with the immediate action that was taken in getting me back down, the oxygen etc, that at least three of my fingers were saved from the chop.

The second, third and fourth fingers on my right hand still have no sensation, but this should return over the next 3-9 months.

Interestingly, I can scratch my ear and feel nothing...yet my itch is sated. Nice!

C: So many of your decisions over the last decade or so have been based on a tilt at Everest. Is it too early talk about the future?

MD: It's an interesting question. Until now everything has been a stepping stone towards a much larger goal: Everest. In many ways I feel that I've done it. Have I climbed Everest? Yes. Have I summited Everest? No. Yet, I've conquered the toughest parts of Everest. I've climbed the Khumbu Icefall four times. I've been to Camp 3. I've climbed to 7300m on one of the world's toughest mountains. For the moment, my Everest itch is largely satiated.

C: Do you want to go back up the mountain?

MD: As I said, I feel no need to go again...at the moment. But in many ways it's 'once a climber always a climber'. The guides said to us all before we went up the mountain: 'whatever you do, don't sell your gear when you come back down in some reaction to what went on up the mountain. It's temporary...and you'll end up having to buy all your gear back. I sold nothing other than some oxygen tanks. So, I think I'll always be climbing in some form.

There are other alluring mountains too. Aconcagua in Argentina is the highest outside of the Himalayas and I'm keen to climb it one day. The thing about climbing as I said earlier is that you peak anywhere from 45-60 so I have plenty of time ahead of me.

C: So, what's next?

MD: On the non-climbing front, I'm really looking forward to the next chapter. Aimee and I are keen to start a family sooner than later. I'm keen to sink my teeth (or feet) back into podiatry and continue to build the property portfolio that I've started. I'm also wanting to explore the Life Coaching/Personal Coaching area. I'm continually fascinated by the difference that effective goal setting can make to a person's life and would love to be part of that journey with a host of people.

On the climbing front, I have a great desire to take small groups of people to do interesting, eye-opening treks to places like Argentina. I've had brief discussions with Wesley College about such a trip and the idea really excites me. I love the sub-continent, the thrill of adventure, the physical challenge of it all and the opportunities to explore yourself that come through physical exertion. I'd love to be part of helping people learn more of themselves through that kind of adventure.

C: Do you think everyone needs to climb a mountain?

MD: Depends whether you're talking metaphorically or physically. In some ways the answer is yes to both, but I understand that some people simply don't enjoy climbing. I absolutely believe that physical exertion, suffering and a plain old hard days' work can change your mental attitude...which flows on to the rest of your life. You see on these poxy shows like 'Biggest Loser'...some guy gets mentally broken through physical exertion, yet it becomes a breakthrough for him. They get broken, but discover another dimension on the other side of all of that.

I think we all need to challenge ourselves to gain perspective by broadening our horizons. I look around Perth and I see a whole lot of people that are obsessed by nothing more than lowering their mortgages. There's so much more of life to take in. Get out of the rut. Climb a mountain. Go on a short term mission trip. Don't make the micro-culture your whole world. Be bold enough to see beyond it. In that whole process, quite aside from the thrill of adventure, you'll gain a fresh perspective on the priority you're giving to a whole lot of other things.

C: Nice work. Tell me about the spiritual dimension of climbing Everest.

I think it's in the extremes of life that we hold on to God the hardest. For me, it's in the heights and in the depths. When things are brilliant, I want to yell out my thanks for all that's brilliant. And in the depths, I want to cry out for help.

In many ways, Everest doesn't feel like earth; it's the domain of absolute extremes. Extreme pain, extreme fatigue, extreme cold and extremely low oxygen. You discover more of God in these extremes. You appreciate more joy when you've gone through the pain.

Our team was really interesting. Probably half or more of the team had a really strong faith in Jesus. Dave from Colorado, the guy I roomed and tented with, was a deacon in his Presbyterian church back at home. The difference it made to be able to unpack the highs and lows of a day on the mountain in the context of our faith journey was huge. It was such a provision.

C: Are there leadership lessons from the mountain?

MD: Absolutely. There's a bunch of leadership and team lessons. A mountain like Everest is all about team and leadership under the most extreme conditions imaginable. What you observe is that as the altitude increases the guides switch on and become increasingly intentional about their leadership, their need to provide certainty and the conviction of their instructions. They know what it takes to succeed and survive on this mountain. Most of these guides lecture in MBA schools around the world because of the amount of leadership lessons that can be gleaned from the pressure cooker that is Everest.

In many ways it's the litmus test of leadership: leadership under pressure. My personal challenge was with diet; the guides wanted me to be eating constantly. I remember one stretch when the guide stopped the team to observe whether or not I was eating. I didn't want to slow the team down to get more food. The guide said: eat now! The team waited for me to get supplies. The guides had identified the greatest needs of each of the climbers and were holding each of us accountable to the things that would give us the greatest chance of success. Food was the big one for me.

There was little, if an, hierarchy within the team itself. It was without doubt one of the best teams I have ever had the privilege of being a part of. Aside from having a huge sense of humour (essential for this kind of expedition) each person was always looking out for everyone else. We genuinely desired success for everyone else on the team. Back in Perth now, I'm still following the journeys of everyone from my team, hoping that each of them summit the mountain.

C: A tough question maybe...was there any sense of dread coming back home knowing the hopes of so many for your success?

MD: No, not really. A mate of mine, Ed Bradley, attempted Everest a few years back and had to turn back only 100metres from the summit when inclement weather closed in. He told me that for the first fortnight after he got back it was all about how it felt to get so close. From then on he's been 'the guy who climbed Everest'. Just like me, that's true. We've both been up the mountain and we've both experienced the harshest of what it has to offer. I went to Everest and I didn't summit, but I conquered the lion's share. As I said earlier, I'm really satisfied. Occasionally frustrated—that's human—but really satisfied.

C: Mate, thanks for talking to us. I speak for a whole lot who read Cacophony and a whole lot beyond when I say we're incredibly proud of what you did up on the mountain, what you've achieved, the character you've demonstrated and the perspective you bring.

MD: Cheers. Thanks for the opportunity to answer a few questions a few people might be wondering about.

Top 5: Sounds from a lazy Saturday afternoon

2007-05-14T15:16:00.000+08:00

I listened, and this is what I heard:

1) Station IDs from the Beeb: This is the BBC in Vancouver; this is the BBC in Karachi; this is the BBC in Honiara; this: is the B-B-C… They sound so good – and they let me pretend I’m a Citizen O’ The World…

2) The thick, steely click that signals my washing machine has finished another load.

3) The restive clunk of baking sheets flexing as they heat in the oven. Makes me feel so Nigella…

4) Elvis, floating up from downstairs. At that distance, he’s actually a pretty perfect soundtrack.

5) The chirrups my cat makes at the birds outside. I’m glad I can’t translate – her threats of Tarantino-style mayhem would probably ruin the mood.

Turning Green

2007-05-11T16:45:00.000+08:00

A few decades back you would have guessed a story called 'Turning Green' was a tale of envy. These days it's more likely you're thinking this is a post about our love of the environment, our aversion of greenhouse gases or our infatuation with Al Gore. But it's envy I'm on about...

I realised sometime earlier this week that I've gone through a few streets of envy along my journey. Perhaps not the typical sort but, then again, they all tend to amount to the same root: I want something you've got.

When I was 18 and could see an international running career ahead of me, I got injured pretty bad. It was something that the medical population of Perth (and parts of Melbourne) couldn't figure out. It was referred pain into my right leg and it stopped me running for a long time. While there were good years of running in there, it's always been a case of managing pain since then. Interestingly, during these years of enforced non-running, I found myself walking past total strangers and thinking, 'you don't need a perfect right leg but I do'. I'd make imaginary exchanges with them. Say, my dodgy right leg for their sore wrist. I figured that unless they weren't running 140km a week they probably wouldn't find my leg that problematic and, hey, I was up for a pesky wrist.

Years later, I remember seeing couples arm in arm or in deep conversation and thinking, 'you don't know how fortunate you are'. 'You need to see yourselves through my eyes...then you'll really value what you've got'.

Over the last couple of weeks I've noticed time-rich people with a touch of envy. Seeing the same guy at 130s casually reading his book, or my neighbours taking their twins for long 2 hour walks and thinking 'I want that now...you lucky mongrels!'

Envy takes many shades of green. None of them particularly healthy because they're all pointing to discontent of some kind. I certainly don't write this with a sense of joy...envy is insidious and rarely leads to joy. If you're going to have these pangs of envy though, my thought is: let them go somewhere productive rather than somewhere nasty. Let them help you appreciate that you can walk (or use your wrists!), or be grateful for the fine friends you have around you. Or let them challenge you to remedy what you're missing. Better yet, let those feelings propel you to seeking satisfaction in all the right places.

Paul wrote to the Philippians:

I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.

Perhaps I'm the only one around here that gets a little green every now and then. Or maybe I'm not alone.

Noise

2007-05-11T11:41:00.000+08:00

Standing at the petrol pump, I have this overwhelming need, desire, obsession to kick the box where the fuel pumps out full of rage and desperation. Why does it have to speak to me now, bombing my space with advertising and invading, incessant noise.

As much as I appreciate Rosie the G.P.R.S voice over, her inability to answer my questions annoy my sense of reality and relational I.Q

Then I walk into the toilets at our local cinema and it's not enough for the hand dryer to just buzz, it has to shout advertising at me whilst I switch off from the world in the sacred space of the humble loo!

Adverts calling me to buy, fake people screaming for my attention, the noise that we are subjected to daily, without freewill is out of control.

Watching a Nooma video this week entitled 'Noise' I was comforted by the sound of silence.

Our world finds it necessary to cover up the white space of quiet with elevator music, crappy tunes not fit for a karoke bar and a consumerist, incessant inability to allow our own thoughts to roam free without interruption.

Don't get me wrong I love communication with people, I love a good chat over a coffee. I even prefer written communication more, the thrill of blogging, magazine-ing, read-ing, letter writ-ing and any other ing that involves, word-ing!

BUT- noise, audible or not that is subjected into my sphere without permission aka the Graham Farmer Tunnel taking over my radio for a weather report is enough to turn this good little christian into a sword waving maniac.

period!

A

A cure for concern

2007-05-09T20:23:00.000+08:00

On the occasions I find myself buried beneath an avalanche of tissues, suffering from a blocked nose and sore throat, I suddenly wish I had the health I enjoyed last week and the ability to soak up the sunshine and engage with people. It’s the same with holidays; I used to take for granted those uni breaks that stretched on forever but now that I have four weeks a year instead of four months, each day is measured out like gold dust. What I’m trying to get at is how it often takes something negative to make you notice the positive.

I’ve been a bit stressed about money lately. I’m on the verge of taking on a mortgage and have been figuring out how I’m going to survive on a part-time wage. To compound my nervousness, I lost my bank card a few days ago and had to scrounge around in the back of my car for coins to pay for petrol – twice (unfortunately, it was a complete excavation the first time).

Today I went to tutor two boys and chatted to their mum afterwards. They’re from East Timor and are in Perth on a temporary protection visa but she just found out this afternoon that the meager allowance the family is living on will cease to be paid to her from next week. Her husband is fighting in East Timor and she hasn’t heard from him in two months – he’s never seen their youngest child. She has four children under the age of 11 and basically no support.

While I’m worrying about having enough money to pay off my own house – as well as having enough to go to the movies and eat out when I feel like it – this family might not have a house to live in in a week’s time. The encounter didn’t just put my concerns into perspective but convicted me of my general self-centredness – I’ve found a cure (temporarily) for both my worry and my self-absorption.

My Ten Commandments

2007-05-04T20:49:00.000+08:00

Everyone has rules they apply to their own life and the things that they do, here are mine:

1. Despite manufacturers "claims" that their batteries have no charge memory, never place on charge any rechargeable battery or portable device with an internal battery that has charge remaining. They must be flat before being placed on charge.

2. Fill a fuel tank to the top. Cars like to have a full stomach just like you do.

3. Do not have unnecessary icons on one’s desktop screen; be a tidy computer user.

4. Tune a guitar string up to the note, not down to the note.

5. Stir coffee anticlockwise, always, for this is correct.

6. Don’t carry unnecessary keys with you. If you don’t need the keys then ditch them.

7. Never ever wear a cell phone, or anything for that matter, on your belt, unless you are batman or a policeman.

8. Pocket change is to be placed in a bowl every night upon returning home. When the bowl overflows to the floor it can be counted and exchanged for a guitar.

9. Use only one pen until the ink runs out. Only then have you earned the right to have another pen.

10. Never read more than one book at once lest you become confused and discouraged, never to finish either of them.

Obsessive compulsive - I don't know. Tell me yours and then we'll decide!

That was the day Krispy Kreme came to town...

2007-05-04T19:51:00.000+08:00

The world's most isolated city is no welcomer of some to life's finer indulgences. Sure, it's well compensated by many other rich attributes, but Perth is a wasteland when it comes to the finest doughnuts on the planet. Until Friday May 4...that was the day Krispy Kremes came to town, bringing with them a whole lot of love, a whole lot of charity and a whole lot of calories.

Today was Starlight Day - the annual national fundraising day for Starlight Children's Foundation. Since 1988, Starlight has brightened the lives of seriously ill and hospitalised children, and their families, by delivering innovative programs that restore the fun, laughter and joy that serious illness takes away.

To tie in with Starlight Day, Krispy Kreme made a one-day-only appearance in Murray Street mall. It was necessary to pre-order your $25 box of a dozen Krispy Kremes. A fellow cacophonist got me in on the action 45 minutes before the 'order by 5pm Thursday' window was shut. The box included 6 commemorative star-shaped KK's and 6 semi-regular KK offerings. Everyone in my workplace secured their stash. I'm not sure how many hundreds/thousands of boxes were sold, but there's some decent fundage flowing into the fundraising coffers of the Starlight Foundation tonight.

Much kudos for a tidy marketing idea targeted into a Krispy Kreme-denied city. I hope they've derived plenty of money. After all, many Western Australians are deriving much satisfaction right now. And kudos also to Krispy Kreme—one of the world's iconic brands and embracer of charity on this and many others. Perhaps it may give the folk KK the confidence to launch a foray into the western wasteland.

8 seconds in the microwave will bring back some of the freshness the plane trip stole...

A bit each way

2007-05-04T09:21:00.000+08:00

When you're calling one guy the 'King of Grass' and the other the 'King of Clay', there seems only one resolution to your quandary.

Four-time Wimbledon champion Federer played two-time French Open winner Nadal last night in an exhibition on a customized half-clay, half-grass court.

The event was held in Palma De Mallorca to promote the Balearic Islands (yeah, they need promoting alright).

The organisers had to lay a brand new surface on the grass side of the court on Tuesday night after the original turf had failed to cope with the indoor location and then fell victim to a plague of worms.

Changeovers were extended to two minutes instead of the usual 90 seconds to give players a chance to change their footwear for each surface.

Rafael Nadal beat Roger Federer, 7-5, 4-6, 7-6 (10), in an exhibition Wednesday on a half-grass, half-clay court when the top-ranked Swiss failed to reach a forehand that took a funny bounce across the green side.

My mind has been forever tainted of any affinity for Rafael Nadal after sitting behind an extremely whining tennis tragic (let's just call her European) at the Australian Open who seemed utterly unable to control the need to yell 'C'monce Rafa' every time there was a point played. As Rafael sunk into the junkyard of the Australian Open it became more evident that her inspiring commentary had nothing to do with the tennis and (perhaps) more to do with his torso.

If this result infers anything about Nadal being a superior player to Federer, this is incidental and erroneous. One day Nadal may be invited to tie Federer's shoelaces. He should accept with gratitude. As much as I am bored by his complete dominance, let's not pretend there are two kings out there.

Doing stuff.

2007-05-03T21:02:00.000+08:00

Just turned over this quote in a book I'm re-reading:

Before a man can do things there must be things he will not do.
- Mencius

Thoughts?

Holy Father

2007-05-03T14:03:00.000+08:00

Pope Alexander VI had six illegitmate kids. It's no secret, and he wasn't the only one...

Obviously I'm not out to denigrate any of the Pontiffs (we should write a "you're tops" for some of them) but you have to admit that the thought of the Pope's kids running around the Vatican is pretty humorous.

I've gone to the trusted source of humanity's collective knowledge (google+wikipedia) and in my surface level research have realized that some of the Pope's descendents still seem to be around.

This raises interesting questions:
-Could the descendents of Pope Alexander VI ask the Roman Catholic Church for back-dated child support payments?
-Would it have accrued interest since the Middle Ages?
-Would the Holy See require a DNA test to authenticate the charge?

As they have the bodies of previous Pontiffs interred in St Peter's you could, technically, check out the legitimacy (or perhaps the illegitimacy?) of the claim. I'm thinking of creating a website, where you can cross-reference your genetic data with that of any Supreme Pontiff from history.

Maybe something along the lines of www.thepopeisnotjustmyspiritualfather.com?

If you're Roman Catholic, please don't write angry weblog posts defaming me (ok, you can if you really want to) but please realize I speak in jest. Christian history is hilarious.

Frustrated by colour

2007-05-03T13:30:00.000+08:00

Yeah, you might be annoyed too...

Cacophony: no coy chap

2007-05-02T12:31:00.000+08:00

What’s a rag man, you ask? Why, it’s an anagram of the word anagram. I spend far too much time thinking up anagrams for different words. Which is why the Internet Anagram Server — or the I, rearrangement servant — is my new best friend.

The word juggling usually starts on the drive to work. I live in the suburb of Maida Vale – of which I long ago satisfied myself that ‘a male diva’ was the best arrangement. On the way to East Perth, license plates, shop signs, street names and words I hear on the radio are stirred and swivelled like wine in the bottom of a glass, unleashing a potent mix of letters for my enjoyment.

The way the Internet Anagram Server works is simple — just type in a word or a phrase and it will spit out a long list of possibilities. For example, some of my favourites for the name Simon Elliott are ‘no slim toilet’, ‘emotion still’, ‘I moot lentils’ and ‘oo smell init?’ I just typed my boss’s full name and it came up with ‘a bristled newt’. Too good.

Name it. Claim it.

2007-05-01T07:32:00.000+08:00

Over the last few months, Fi and I have been in the name-hunting business. Twelve weeks out from meeting our little girl, we've got pretty much the same shortlist that we had 6 months ago (we jettisoned some boys names at the 13-week mark), but we've done a bit of clarifying along the way.

Names mean things. Through the passage of time they've either been invested with meaning or derived from words with a particular meaning. And words have power.

It turns out I'm a listener, I'm snub-nosed, and curiously, I'm a little hyena. I fare a litle better with Elliott (close to God, the Lord is my God). Monica, a counsellor at Riverview that I work with, translates 'to warn', 'to guide' and 'to counsel'. Bronwyn, who I work with at The Globe, means fair-breasted one. I remind her often.

Names can reflect the relationship with the 'namer' or the visionary intent of the namer for the namee. Moira (longed-for child) tells you more about the 'namer' perhaps. Verity (truth) might be something you want to talk up in your little girl compared to Jezebel (follower of idols) as much as you might think it has a certain ring to it. Misty (clouded and obscure) might be fine for a swimmer, but maybe you're after a little more clarity. If it's a faithful friend you're after, Kylie (boomerang) could be the way to go. Flynn (son of the red-haired man) could be the deal if you're a wranger although Geraint (old man) mightn't be kind to your infant. Gilbert (bright hostage) is probably not a mandate you want to place on a life and Dwayne (dark little one) could be a difficult one to overcome, although Gideon (powerful warrior) or Lorimer (harness maker) could be more up your alley. Horses for courses I guess.

In the story of the People of God, we see names changed to reflect a change in mission or direction. Sarai has a name change to Sarah and has a bunch of kids. Abram, with a simple 'ha' becomes the father of many nations. Jacob is permitted to assign his misdemeanors to different name and, in his struggle, becomes Israel. Simon has a name change to Peter and becomes the foundation for the church. Perhaps it was all this name-changing shenanigans that prompted Eric to write 'would you know my name, even if it was Kevin'?

When you name something, you both ascribe or invest a particular meaning to it. And you declare 'I know you'. This is relevant in Jacob's story, but not right now.

Got a name?

Laying new track

2007-04-30T21:56:00.000+08:00

It seems to me that we spend half our lives learning and the other unlearning. Not that it's a sequential thing. Rather, at any one point, there's stuff we're learning and other (already learned) stuff that we're unlearning.

Some of the stuff we learn is solid yet, along the way, it turns ugly. Perhaps it loses its saltiness, but some of our behaviours and ways of thinking turn rancid. It may be experiences and circumstances that re-frame some past learning for us, or perhaps it's a lack of fresh water running through our souls but, sooner or later, we discover that we're holding on to ways of thinking that need to be unpacked.

Jesus knew all about unlearning. He took a whole worldview and turned it upside down. Typically, His unlearning statements began with: You have heard it said.

You have heard that it was said, 'Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth...But I tell you: do not resist an evil person...
and
You have heard that it was said, 'Love your neighbor and hate your enemy...But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you

We learn in so many ways: our families, our schools, our churches, our experiences, our economic realities, the people we know, the books we read, the movies we watch, the papers we read, the blogs we consume, the prayers we pray, the degrees we acquire...they're all pathways to learning.

But unlearning is tricky. Discovering that the capital of Libya is Tripoli rather than Kabul is no biggie: I had misinformation, now I know better. Unpacking bad doctrine formed over many years: that's probably going to take a little longer. Grace over legalism; that's going to take a bit of unlearning. Growing up in a family that made you feel worthless and belittled you in front of your brothers and sisters: that's a self-identity that's going to take a lot of unlearning. And, depending on the nature of the unlearning, it may even feel like you're selling yourself a lie to be thinking something different.

Our fears, misinformation and assumptions determine many of our actions. And, if we're going to restore (or create) wholeness, they need to be dealt with.

Our spiritual growth is learning and unlearning too. Like any other kind of learning, we lay railway tracks in our minds—neural pathways fortressed by learned, then practiced behaviour. Unlearning isn't simply pulling up old track, it's laying new track as well. With no new direction to travel, our minds will simply go there again—track or no track. The challenge is not just removing the bad thinking, but discovering correct thinking and laying the track that goes there.

Only an alternate, intentional track will be sufficient to supplant the well-worn, removed one. Even then, it's tough. After all, wherever you've travelled with your dodgy thinking, you have to travel back again before you can start heading in the right direction. Sometimes that requires a skilled counsellor, mentor or spiritual director. In my experience, it invariably requires a team effort with the Holy Spirit.

William Blake said: The man who never alters his opinions is like standing water, and breeds reptiles of the mind. Writing centuries earlier, the Apostle Paul said 'daily transform yourselves by the renewing of your mind'. He knew that without daily transformation of our minds, stagnancy comes along. Luke warmness comes along. Tepid thinking comes along. Self-destruction comes along. After all, we're only left to work with what we're feeding ourselves from the inside.

Ultimately, it is our failure to unlearn irrational fears and misconceptions that keeps us from becoming who God wants us to be. In truth, we'll never see ourselves as He sees us in this passage of eternity (ie. the part of eternity where we still see through a dim fog). I gain clarity though, when I drag my fears into the light and let him illuminate what was dark. God's reality shining on mine is speed-unlearning. A lifetime of flawed thinking can be corrected in the light of his glory and grace. That too, is a lifetime's work.

Making my path to His cross and His throne a well-worn one is the best track I can ever lay. As I walk that track, rusted track is obliterated. If it's well-worn, it is still capable of re-appearing in my neglect of holy track, but by cultivating my holy track, the old self, the old track, doesn't really stand a chance.

Thanks be to God!

Learning can take a moment. Unlearning can last a lifetime.

May the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever.

Michael Dunjey: The Journey So Far

2007-04-30T10:08:00.000+08:00

Michael Dunjey is on his way to becoming the first WA-born climber to summit Mt Everest. Here's what he had to say when he had some time to kill at Base Camp.

The Journey So Far

The trek into Base Camp was amazing––stunningly beautiful. Adventure Consultants had a twenty member team that followed us into Base Camp. As you know, thousands of people hike to Everest BC every year, but very few go on to climb the mountain. The trekkers had a great time but found it very hard going with one of the members needing to be placed in a temporary oxygen chamber––and death may certainly have been possible.

For many of the trekkers making it to Base Camp was the highlight of their physical lives. Once the climbers made it to BC we had four days or so to rest and acclimatise and get ready for our first trip to the Ice Fall. The ice fall is a randomly jumbled block of ice and crevasses that rises 700m into the western cwm. The first time up we only went half way––it was absolutely exhausting for everyone. This was the real dividing line between the climbers and the trekkers––I daresay none of the trekkers could have done it. We are talking the equivalent of a marathon or up and down bluff knoll four times in a row. We were all shattered and disappointed. Apparently this is the norm for all climbers on their first time up.

After that first climb in the ice fall we had two days rest before climbing all the way up to Camp 1. It was easier this time to get to our previous highpoint on the ice fall, but going twice the distance all the way to Camp 1 was still shattering. We crossed about twenty ladders that span the crevasses––very scary at first as the crampons do not stick on the ladder rungs but slide, and the ladders themselves sway in all three directions––but you do get used to them after a while. I learned quickly not to look down (as the crevasses can drop forever) and to concentrate on the rungs and my crampon points. The ice fall moves about four meters per day and so the route up and down constantly changes. There are ice fall doctors who are employed by all the expeditions to keep the ice fall route open––it’s the most dangerous job on the mountain and every year there will be fatalities.

The reward at getting to the top of the ice fall is that you break out into the Western cwm––a massive almost valley that snakes its way up to the Lhotse face––surrounded on all side by either Everest and other mountains, including Nuptse. Edumund Hillary described this as one of the most beautiful sights on earth and most of our climbing team agreed.

The next day we traveled to Camp 2. Once again, from what we had read, this was meant to be an ok day. But now we know that on Everest nothing ever comes easy. Again all the marathoners on the team (ie. Most of the team) agreed that the journey from Camp 1 to Camp 2 was the equivalent of a marathon or more. However, the more we walked and climbed, the more we started to see the upper shores of Mt Everest open up before our eyes before finally, after three long weeks, we actually got to see the summit of the mountain we have all dreamed about climbing.

We stayed at Camp 2 for two nights and then ascended to the base of the Lhotse face. This was an amazing achievement as we arrived at 7000m far earlier than most other teams seeking to climb Everest this season. It was just a day trip for acclimatisation but we were able to see the route to Camp 3. We returned to Camp 2 to sleep before descending to Base Camp in one day. This was, by far, the most exhausting day yet and marked my third vomit of the trip and marked the end of the first third of our time here at Everest.

We’re now resting at Base Camp. On Friday we move back up the mountain with the goal of spending 8 days on the mountain. Our primary goal is to sleep one night at Camp 3 at 7300m. If we can do this then it essentially means we’re ready to go back down to Base Camp to rest for a week before making our summit bid. Many successful Everest climbers have actually said this trip to Camp 3 is the crux of the trip. When you go to Camp 3 for the second time––on the summit bid––you go on to support oxygen straight away. But the first time up you have to prove yourself worthy of the mountain and sleep on your own lungs. I don’t think anyone really sleeps or eats 7300m.

In all honesty, I am scared and nervous about this next trip up as it will be a real test of my acclimatisation and strength. The guides have been extremely diligent and gave us all performance appraisals for our climbing so far. They believe I can summit the mountain, but only if I improve my caloric intake. It’s something I really need to concentrate on. Their goal for me is that whilst I’m climbing I always have something in my mouth––even if it’s just hard candy. The altitude does mess with my appetite. This has probably been the hardest time of my life. It is very easy to get down, agitated, depressed, nervous and home sick. But I always know in the back of my head that there is a job that needs to be done to the best of my ability. In the end, the outcome of this trip is in my Creator’s hands.

Read More
• Michael's website
• Adventure Consultants website

A hard hat and an orange vest...

2007-04-29T03:57:00.000+08:00

Is how I’m choosing to accessorize these days. They match well with my steel capped boots, dirty jeans and hard yakka shirt that just won't die.

The smell of diesel and hydraulic fluid becomes comforting after a while, kind of reminds you of the size of the machine you're in charge of. I tend to find a sense of isolation in personal protective equipment; ear plugs, hard hat, safety glasses seem to soften the world a bit and somehow promote escape to a world of thought and wonder. The noise of the drill rig drifts off into the background and I think of my God, ponder a few verses from 1st Timothy, my thoughts escape to my wife and how much I miss her, one starts wondering about the exchange rate between the American and the Australian dollar, and what will become of the Iraq war and I wonder how many people died from a suicide bomb in a Baghdad market today and is it more or less than will die tomorrow.

The view laid out before me is breathtaking. High Andes Mountains with cloud forest, so named because the cloud lingers in the valleys like some kind of lord of the rings scene. Waterfalls slide over crevices in the rock faces and tumble hundreds if not thousands of metres crashing to the valley floor below, fed by high alpine lakes nestled an equal distance above in the zone where the air is to thin to sustain much vegetation beyond a few isolated clumps of tussock. The sun glints off the corrugated iron roofs of the mud huts across the valley, a firm indication of just how much rain this place gets in the wet season as its not common for a campesino to spend money on things that aren't absolutely necessary.

Families pass each other on the roads on the way to and from the village at the base of the valley where they load their donkeys high with supplies of beans, rice, potato and corn, perhaps a few beers as a treat after a hard day tilling the fields in the rain behind the ox. Each group of people carry a large antiquated AM radio to listen to the local notices broadcast from the small township about two valleys over, as that is the nearest place with a power supply. This is the only means of communication for the people at this end of the valley who live in the primitive collection of mud huts perched on the slopes. The radios remind me of the kind that grandpa used to have in the shed where the mellow sounds of the national program would drift out while he did something as meaningful as tinkering with an old rotary hoe or tapping the lead out of lead head nails to take to the scrap metal dealer. Today is a festival in the village at the bottom of the valley and many of the men have a rooster under their arm to compete in the cock-fight later this afternoon. The union between man and poultry is not easily broken. Many of the men will drink too much and fall asleep on the horse on the way home, or perhaps not make it home at all and stop by the track near the river for a spell while the rooster, tethered to the mans leg by a red rope, pecks at the bugs oozing out of the wet soil. The nightly rainfall may wake him up in time to find shelter, or he may be woken from the mud the next morning by a large bulldozer thundering past.

The valleys are a patchwork of green and more green; the crops springing up in the fields on the distant slopes offer the appearance of the world’s most difficult golf course. The rivers are swollen from the end of the wet season rains and the tranquility of the valley makes you wonder why all that water is in such a rush to get somewhere. In actual fact it is headed swiftly to the Rio Chotano, which will eventually meet with the Rio Amazon, make its way past Columbia across the border to Brazil and emerge on the other side of the continent where after about 200km of travel into the Southern Atlantic Ocean that same bit of water will for the first time meet with some salt and become part of the liquid blue that surround our humble home. I sit down by the river while waiting for my equipment to equilibrate in the cold murky water, write a prayer on a rock and launch it into the torrent. The splash is swept away in a millisecond. In the distance I hear the reversing alarm of some earthmoving equipment which has been replaced by a device that plays the first line of the Lambada tune every time the driver shifts into reverse, instantly reminding me of where I am and the work I need to continue doing. In a few days, God willing, a helicopter will land and take me back to the traffic and heat of Chiclayo, followed by the craziness of Lima and the warm embrace of a wife.

You're Tops: Dean Karnazes (Running Banshee)

2007-04-27T18:18:00.000+08:00

Dean 'Karno' Karnazes is not a normal person.

Dean, based in San Francisco, left a successful marketing career to go for a bit of a run. It's been a few years now, and he's still running. Plenty. And I'm not talking about your 45 minute gasp around the suburbs. He's done a bunch of crazy runs including the Western States 100 Miler, the Badwater Ultramarathon and last year he ran 50 marathons in 50 days in 50 states. He published a book about some of his shenanigans called Ultramarathon Man. It serves to chronicle the fact that he is certifiable. One anecdote from the book pretty much sums him up.

There are a few team-based relay runs out there. Dean entered one, but instead of completing it with all the blokes from the Sales Department, or the golf club, or the myriad of ways running teams are formed, Dean was running by himself: Team Karno. In order to fuel the furnace that drives this running machine he had a pizza company deliver some pizzas to him at an obscure intersection late at night so he could eat them as he ran. Which he did. And if memory serves me right he washed them down with a thermos of coffee...

Most recently, Dean has been nominated as one of Time Magazine's 100 Most Influential People. You can vote for Dean to be included within the final 100 here. I'm into people who are into their thing––be that spelling, obscenely long runs or geo-politics. There's something about the obsessive and relentless pursuit of mastery and enjoyment in a field that's inspiring. Karno makes me want to have a go, to push things a bit, to turn what can be the suburban-treading-water posture to which I can so easily entropy into an adventure. And he's done it with a pair of shoes and a healthy disregard for self-applied boundaries. Go Karno, go!

Boomers for the Big Guy

2007-04-27T09:47:00.000+08:00

Like Kathy Lette and Damir Dokic, Bernard Salt—Australia’s Favourite Demographer and Numerate Woman’s Crumpet—is generally good for a quote. He happens to be the only reason I go near The Australian’s weekend business section. Last week, he made a connection between two pieces of information that most of us already know, and gave us the heads-up on where revival in Australia might just be coming from. I think he’d be as surprised as the rest of us at his new title: Bernard Salt, Instrument of God…

First piece of information: the church skews old. Bernard says this is because people are more likely to worry about what God thinks of them as it gets more likely that they’re going to have to answer to Him.

Second piece of information: Australia’s population is ageing, or more precisely, old people make up an increasingly large proportion of the Australian population.

In this case, one plus two makes a really good marketing opportunity for the church. All those Baby Boomers have finally been convinced they need to think about superannuation; it can only be a matter of time before some of them concede that they may eventually die. And at that point, we’ve got ‘em!

So, all you evangelists out there, here’s what I suggest:
1) Enough with the hipster relevant-ism. You’re not going to win 55 year olds with in-depth knowledge of skater culture. Try brushing up on cholesterol medications and time-share investments in Queensland.

2) You might want to see if someone can re-write the lyrics to ‘Emotional Rescue’ to something a little more worship-friendly. Lots of your target market didn’t actually grow up in the church, and the last time they engaged in crowd karaoke was the last time the Stones toured, so it should make them feel right at home.

3) Can somebody go check that we’ve got hearing aid loops in the auditorium and hand rails in all the loos? And stop putting the bible reading up as orange text on a white background – I can’t read that, and my vision’s 20-20.

Bernard even had a suggestion as to how we could smooth out the age-spread in the church. He thinks God should apply some sort of discount rate on the basis of age – so the prayer of a 25 year old is worth two or three from a 75 year old. Now wouldn’t that make for some great stories? ‘I remember, when I was a lad, you could get a Porsche with two sentences tossed off during an ad break - and I didn’t get stopped by a red light until I was 32! But these days, honestly, I had to pray for a month just to get my tinea cleared up – and don’t even get me started on the parking spots…’

Cacophony Review: Chasing Lions

2007-04-26T14:38:00.000+08:00

What Lion is God calling you to chase? It's the question In a Pit with a Lion on a Snowy Day heads towards from its first page. Based on memorable titles alone, the book has kicked truly. The author, Mark Batterson, whose blog we feature on Cacophony, and who pastors National Community Church in Washington DC, begins with a seemingly random verse from 2 Samuel 23:

Benaiah son of Jehoiada was a valiant fighter from Kabzeel, who performed great exploits. He struck down two of Moab's best men. He also went down into a pit on a snowy day and killed a lion.

So begins a book about opportunity in adversity, about facing the music rather than running for cover and about recognising the defining moments in life.

In many ways Chasing Lions is about risk, opportunity cost and sins of ommission. And while undoubtedly recognising the power and character-refining work of the Holy Spirit in this process, Batterson communicates in a style that is joyfully (largely) devoid of penti-speak.

Chasing Lions unpacks the obstacles to chasing the lions in our lives. Defying odds, facing fears, reframing problems, embracing uncertainty, taking risks, seizing opportunities and looking foolish are among them.

Make no mistake, this book isn't about selling all you have and putting it all on Jesse's Boy on the 5th at Doomben. It's about the God-ordained-Ephesians 2:10 type opportunities that we resist for the fear of failure. And, in some ways, it's about failing too. A question I've asked myself in the wake of Chasing Lions is 'how often am I failing'? Not spiritual, moral or character failure, but how many risks am I taking in work, in building relational intimacy, and in exposing myself to God-sized opportunities. The answer is: a bit but not enough.

Batterson casts our safe, adult, strategic lives against the unplanned mayhem of Pentecost at one point:

Here's a novel thought: What if we actually did what they did in the bible? What if we fasted and prayed for ten days? What if we sought God with some ancient intensity instead of spending all our energy trying to eliminate His surprises? Maybe then we'd experience some ancient miracles.

The revealing thought is that the more of an agenda we throw at God, the more we determine the prevalence of self and the more we cut our selves off from God-sized opportunities (which are often more daring, more engaging and more defining than anything we can come up with). Ultimately, we discover that playing it safe with God is risky. And opening up to God is for the crash-helmet wearing thrillseeker.

Batterson and I share at least one thing in common: a belief in the importance of looking foolish. To be childlike (though not necessarily immature) is to allow ourselves to see the world through different eyes, from a different angle. Batterson introduced me to a new word: neoteny. Neoteny is the retention of youthful qualities by adults. He quotes someone quite famous who said: I tell you the truth, unless you change to become like little children you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

As we see life through the eyes of a child, some of our fears and precautions are given their appropriate valence against the opportunities that stand up and bite us.

Batterson reckons that we all have a primal longing to do something crazy for God. I'm with him. We mightn't be waiting for a lion on a snowy day...neither was Benaiah. Yet he was obviously preparing for a big challenge and seized it when it came.

There's a whole lot of books lining the shelves of Christian bookstores that are high on fluff and low on content. While this won't go down as a long (182pgs), heavy-weight or intellectual tome by any stretch, there is a good balance between a call to live a life that exposes us to opportunity and a life that engages our minds at the same time.

Consider Chasing Lions a Berocca for the journey as a follower of Christ. If I was rating it out of 10 for genre, I'd go 7.5

Chased any lions lately?

PS. By the way, since he wrote the book, he's written a Lion Chasers' Manifesto which you may want to read over.

The Occasional Ensemblee Series: Revelation by the banks of St. Lawrence River

2007-04-26T11:04:00.000+08:00

Cacophony's first occasional ensemblee steps aboard from the northern half of the earth. Ladies and Gentleman, please give a warm Cacophony welcome to Mr Gavin Eva.

Today, I needed to escape the daily hustle and bustle of the centre downtown Montreal streets, so I walked about 5 kms to the quiet banks of the St Lawrence River, and sat for a few hours. I read Psalm 86 which tells of God's ever present help whenever we need him—all we need to do is ask. Whatever situation we find ourselves in, God's love is there in the troubled storms of life and the unforgivable mistakes we make along the diverse paths we travel along (He snatched me from the brink of disaster). The last verse says it all for me;

As You, God, gently and powerfully put me back on my feet.
(The Message)

This made me think about all the unanswered questions in life that I have faced over the past couple of days.

1. Why is it that I take the common approach in life; and begin to rationalize my decisions dependant on what others are doing? I find that my mind will find any reason to find what is right/wrong, and if everybody else is doing it or not then it is not that bad. I believe the easiest way to answer this conundrum in life is my interpretation of the bait, and learning to steer clear of those moments (and what comes out of my mouth) through constantly renewing my mind. All I ask God is that he grants me the attitude of integrity; to have courage in the face of adversity, for there is never a wrong time to do the right thing.

2. Why is it that I sometimes choose to take the easier path, rather than seizing the God-given opportunities placed before me? I know through my journey of life that God is more interested in my character than my comfort.

I figure God would not have allowed me this awesome opportunity to travel if I was not being greatly challenged to grow. Problems in life lead to perspective, perseverance, and perfection ('P' words); and the difference with successful people is not that they have less problems; they just handle those problems differently. I know that problems that bubble through to the surface for me cause me such frustration, heart ache and angst, yet I need to learn that is part of the growing process (pain is what makes me more human). The potential possibility for growth is inside us all, and yet sometimes I fail to discover my real destiny. Why did I miss the
opportunity and avoid speaking to the lady (the one with 'chicken bum' lips) at the hotel today who just wanted to tell me about what was happening in her life. Why didn't I give her my listening ear even for a few minutes? Why did I only start writing down my trials, struggles and elation after leaving everything behind in Perth. Why did I leave so many missed moments uncaptured?

3. Why does God only speak to us when we are ready to receive? As I lie in the lush green grass, see the magnificence that was created, soak up the sun, look down on the wide cobblestone road below, the century old market place buildings on my left, and the tremendous amount of water flowing in front of me; I start to feel some of God's presence. Why is it that in my vain efforts to achieve anything, be someone notable, and be recognized or
status driven; I forget about the simple fact that all God wants is for us to take time out and be still. I have discovered that worry and worship do not mix at all, and that all that really matters in life is God and relationships with people. I must keep reminding myself to take time away from what needs to be achieved daily, and spend more time in God's quiet presence.

I'll let Henry David Thoreau finish up for me:

A single rain makes the grass many shades greener. So our prospects brighten on the influx of better thoughts.