Photos courtesy Brian Hills  [click each to enlarge]

About 400 people gathered this afternoon to share in a process of community affirmation and support following the loss of the Wembley Downs Shopping Centre by fire seven days ago. A short simple ceremony invited each person to hold a rock and to imagine it absorbing sorrow through its heaviness, emanating thanks and memory through its warmth, and issuing hope as the crowd built a cairn under the remaining shopping centre signage. Chris Richards spoke on behalf of the owners expressing appreciation for community support and the desire to rebuild. Pharmacist Henry Gulev, for the tenants, thanked the community for expressions of care and concern.  Councillor Elizabeth Re, on behalf of the Mayor and the City of Stirling, assured council assistance in working through the issues related to the rebirth of the site, including community consultation. The crowd, comprising business owners, shop staff, residents and neighbours adjourned to the adjacent church courtyard for refreshments provided by Indiret Singh of IGA, several neighbours and the church. The Rebuild Wembley Downs neighbourhood initiative collected messages and contact details from those wishing to help. Today saw a community rite of passage that led from desolation to expressions of hope.

The community is beginning to rally. There have been very positive expressions to the proposal outlined below and which is being distributed, as I write, throughout the district. Compassion for one another – neighbour for neighbour, customer for trader, trader for customer has been working it’s way through the community. The annual District Fair tomorrow will be a venue for much meeting and sharing, and Sunday’s event will cap it.

This weekend will see the beginning of a new chapter for our neighbourhood.

COMMMUNITY GATHERING
for an act of
HEALING and HOPE

this Sunday October 26

2.30 pm (Daylight Saving Time)

at the site of the Downs Shopping Centre.

Refreshments at Church of Christ hall after

Acknowledging loss
Expressing thanks
Building hope for the future

Enquiries 9245 2593

HOPE

These two signs hang on the fence surrounding the charred remains of our local shopping centre. One expresses the deep sorrow of the community, the other is a pointer to the community spirit that will carry us  on. Both lament and hope need to find expression and it is my desire that we will find ways to appropriately process these as individuals and as a community. The Luita Street fair, though annual, is a timely event to remind us that while our loss is significant, we have not lost all. Our hope is also that the way will be clear for a swift re-establishment of the shopping precinct.

My church, just across the road from the devastation, is trying to think of ways of being useful. We can organise rides for shopping for those who have been dependent on shops they can walk to. We can become a distribution point for the local suburban paper. We can offer the listening ear for those who need to talk it through. But we are also open to ideas from the community. Tell us what you think, either by leaving a comment or by emailing. 

Earlier discussion here revealed several correspondents who have reservations about climate change discussions. Whichever side of the debate we fall on, and whether we believe the cause of climate change is natural or human or some of both, careful stewardship of natural resources is part of the biblical shalom for which many on all sides of the discussion yearn.

So let me give three cheers to all who seek to be informed, discerning, and a friend of the Creation God has given.

Cryptic crosswords have never been my strength, and I stand in awe of those people I know who knock one out every day. All the skills of lateral thinking, deductive detective work, general knowledge and wordsmithing are called for – not to mention much patience. I know those who are more disciplined than I (or who don’t have access to a “solutions” page) will often leave a vexing clue and wake up the next morning with the answer. Such is often the right-hemisphered, subliminal and intutive process of arriving at the correct solution.

Never fear if you are logically determined and left-hemisphere dominated, however. Wikipedia suggests no less than fifteen different types of possibilities to explore in solving a clue. It helpfully advises, “In essence, a cryptic clue leads to its answer as long as you read it in the right way. What the clue appears to say when read normally (the surface reading) is almost never anything to do with the answer and is there as a distraction. The challenge is to find the way of reading the clue that leads to the solution.”

How like our normal conversations and every day relationships! Take the typical chaotic hour of fellowship following Sunday morning worship. Hundreds of conversations and interactions are taking place. Expressions, tones of voice, anecdotes, postures, gestures and groupings send out hundreds of clues about our dreams, disappointments, hopes, visions and desires. Often these are like cryptic crossword clues to one another, and the more aware go home to lunch pondering ”Now what was that all about?” Sunday afternoon phone calls, emails and visits begin to unravel the clues and deeper meanings emerge amongst us.

This is the Spirit work of the church and it often transpires unseen and unremarked upon. Just thought I’d point it out!

1. Our revamped church website.
2. PeaceChurch, a new venture that we hope will become a “parallel congregation” in Perth’s western suburbs – it has a dedicated “justice and mercy” bent.
3. Not up yet, but watch for “Sacred Spaces”, another parallel church celebrating a contemplative approach

Many thanks to webmaster Steve Mellor for his work on these sites.

Luke 17: 5-10

Some are saying the monks of Myanmar are no more. The saffron revolution is over. The dream of these peace-loving clerics was that they might act as a conciliatory go-between for the impoverished population and the brutal military junta that has reigned for over a decade.

Today monasteries are empty, international communications are severed and most of what we now hear comes from anecdotes told by the occasional refugee that stumbles out of the jungle on the Thai border.

See a report here

Why did these monks, in their thousands, believe they could make a difference? Was it faith? Many are now dead or disappeared. Did it work?

“Increase our faith!” the disciples said to Jesus.

On Feb. 12, 2005, Sr. Dorothy Stang walked along a dirt road deep in the heart of Brazil’s Amazon, on her way to meet a handful of poor farmers bearing up under harassment from illegal loggers and ranchers. She trudged along, until two hired assassins blocked her way. In response to their challenge, she produced maps and documents proving that the government had designated the land as a reserve for the landless poor.

“Do you have a weapon?” they asked.

Yes, she answered, showing them the Bible she carried for decades.

She opened it and began to read aloud: “Blessed are the poor in spirit. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice. Blessed are the peacemakers …” Then, she said, “God bless you, my sons.”

The two shot her six times and ran. Her body lay on the dirt road all day, nearby witnesses later said, because they were afraid they would be shot if they moved it. As it rained, her blood mixed with the dirt.

See full account and commentary here.

Was Dorothy Stang foolhardy? Was her faith fruitful? Did it make any difference to the poor that she served? Did it change her killers in any way?

“Increase our faith!” the disciples said to Jesus.

ONE year ago last Tuesday, a man entered a one-room Amish school in Nickel Mines, Pennsylvania, dismissed all but 10 girls, and fired at them execution-style, killing five before shooting himself.

Donald B. Kraybill, coauthor of the book, Amish Grace: How Forgiveness Transcended Tragedy writes:

Within hours, the Amish community forgave the killer and his family. News of the instant forgiveness stunned the outside world – almost as much as the incident itself did. Many pundits lauded the Amish, but others worried that hasty forgiveness was emotionally unhealthy.
In dozens of interviews with Amish people since the tragedy, I discovered that the Amish approach to forgiveness is indeed quick and unconventional – but also inspirational to the rest of us.
Members of the Amish community began offering words and hugs of forgiveness when the blood was barely dry on the schoolhouse floor. A grandmother laughed when I asked if the forgiveness was orchestrated. “You mean that some people actually thought we had a meeting to plan forgiveness?”
As the father of a slain daughter explained, “Our forgiveness was not our words, it was what we did.” Members of the community visited the gunman’s widow at her home with food and flowers and hugged members of his family. There were a few words, but it was primarily their hugs, gifts, and mere presence – acts of grace – that communicated Amish forgiveness. Of the 75 people at the killer’s burial, about half were Amish, including parents who had buried their own children a day or so before. Amish people also contributed to a fund for the shooter’s family.
For most people, a decision to forgive comes – if ever – at the end of a long emotional journey that may stretch over months if not years. The Amish invert the process. Their religious tradition predisposes them to forgive even before an injustice occurs.
Amish faith is grounded in the teachings of Jesus to love enemies, reject revenge, and leave vengeance in the hands of God. As a father who lost a daughter in the schoolhouse said, “Forgiveness means giving up the right to revenge.”
Unlike those who hire lawyers at every turn to protect their rights, the Amish yield to divine providence in the case of an unspeakable tragedy such as the one at Nickel Mines – believing that God’s long arm of justice removes that need for human retaliation.
In the Amish view, forgiveness is a religious duty. As a young Amish carpenter said, “It’s just standard forgiveness,” but he was wrong. Conventional Christian forgiveness posits a God who forgives sinners and urges them to forgive others – to pass the grace on to those who wrong them. The Amish refrain – “If we don’t forgive, we won’t be forgiven” – shows a different impetus. Their salvation hinges on their willingness to forgive, a powerful motivation to extend grace to others. They cite the Lord’s Prayer, and Jesus’ story about an unforgiving servant as their motivation. One bishop, pointing to verses following the Lord’s Prayer, said emphatically, “Forgiveness is the only thing that Jesus underscored in the Lord’s Prayer.”
“Forgiveness was a decided issue,” one bishop explained – decided, that is, by Amish history and practice over the centuries. When the religious ancestors of the Amish were torched at the stake for their faith in 16th-century Europe, many of them, echoing Jesus on the cross, prayed aloud that God would forgive their executioners.
Despite their front-loaded commitment, the Amish still find forgiveness to be a long emotional process. Though there were no expressions of outright rage or hopes that the gunman would burn in hell, the wanton slaughter of their children did bring deep pain, tears, and raw grief.
While forgiveness means not holding a grudge – “the acid of bitterness eats the container that holds it,” one farmer explained – the Amish are clear that it does not free the offender from punishment. Had the gunman survived, they would have wanted him locked up, not for revenge but to protect other children.
In mainstream society, retribution is a taken-for-granted right. Around the world, names of deities are often invoked to fuel cycles of revenge generation after generation.
In refreshing contrast, rather than using religion to bless and legitimize revenge, the Amish believe that God smiles on acts of grace that open doors for reconciliation.

Story received from here.

Is the Amish perspective realistic? Has their unusual and isolated lifestyle resulted in a Pollyanna response to deep tragedy? Or are they simply modelling the way of Jesus?

“Increase our faith!” the disciples said to Jesus.

Here we are again celebrating a church anniversary. 42 years of faith finding expression through our worship, witness and mission here. We have stories to tell. Perhaps not as extreme as those I’ve just relayed – nevertheless, we have our stories of faith that we have collected from our experiences together in this place.

In spite of all, and particularly when confronted with stories like those we have just heard, we find ourselves at times confronted with uncertainty and doubt.

We stand with those first leaders of Christ’s church making our plea – “Increase our faith!” the disciples said to Jesus.

If ever there was an icon for magnificent focused saintly faith during the 20th century, it was Mother Teresa. In surrendering her life to working and living among the poor and the dying of Calcutta, her name has been a household word for decades.

“What faith, what tenacity, what focus,” we whisper admiringly. “If only that kind of faith was possible in my circumstances.”

A recent biography (Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light) that makes heavy use of Mother Teresa’s 50 years of private correspondence with her confessors and spiritual directors reveals that Mother Teresa continuously hungered for this kind of faith that eluded her all her life.

Her correspondence reveals an agonising lack of the experience of the presence of Jesus and an excruciating darkness of the soul that convinced her of his absence.
(see Time magazine article )

Even to her later years, much of her dealings with her counsellors focus on this crisis of faith.

So what are we, in our humble strivings, to make of all this talk of faith, the faith that if we had just a small inkling, just a poppy-seed size amount of, we could make trees jump into lakes?

The monks of Myanmar tried it – they were stamped out.
Sr Dorothy Stang tried it – she was murdered.
The Amish community of Pennsylvania practice it and remain a curiosity, an oddity to be stared at by many but emulated by few.

What then can we expect from our plea, “Increase out faith?”

We can expect exactly what Jesus replied. Hear it in Nathan Nettleton’s dynamic translation.

Think about this: If you employed a full-time servant, you expect him to do what you pay him for, don’t you? If he comes in from a day working your land or shearing your sheep, you are not going to tell him to put his feet up while you run his bath and fix his dinner are you? Instead you will tell him to take his boots off, fix your supper, and wait on your table until your meal is over. After that, you’ll let him knock off and fix his own meal. You don’t pin a medal on him for just doing what he’s paid for, do you? So remember that it is the same with you. When you have done what is required of you, don’t go expecting anyone to put your name up in lights. Instead say, “We are nothing special; we were just doing our job,” and leave it at that. ©2001 Nathan Nettleton www.laughingbird.net

There’s our timely marching orders, folks, as we launch out in faith into our 43rd year in this place. Don’t squeeze yourself trying to get a few extra drops faith out for what we are meant to be doing or being here anway.
You are simply called to do the task that Jesus has called you to do – follow him – and don’t expect fanfare or reward.

That’s all the monks of Myanmar were doing – knowingly or not, they were treading the path of Jesus.

That’s all Sr Dorothy Stang did.

And it’s the path of obedience that the Amish of Pennsylvania follow.

And Mother Teresa? Her life speaks for itself.

And her biography reveals an even greater gift – an insight to the human and Jesus-like struggles of the most faithful in the Church’s long 2000 year old story.

In the 1950s, she drew great comfort from the advice of one of her spiritual directors, Fr Joseph Neuner,

When she turned to him with her “darkness,” he told her three things
- that there was no human remedy for it (thus alleviating her feeling of being responsible for what she was experiencing)
- that “feeling” Jesus is not the only proof of his being present
- and that the felt absence was in fact part of the “spiritual side” of her work or Jesus.

So Mr Teresa continued the work of the faithful servant in Jesus’ illustration to his disciples, saying in the end, “I am nothing special, I was just doing my job.”

Now here’s an idea. See if it works for you.

Try the word “focus” in place of the word “faith.”

“Lord, increase our focus”

“If you had focus as sharp as a needle, you could be the disciple I am calling you to be.”

Our life is a faint tracing on the surface of mystery, like the idle, curved tunnels of

This, I mused, is what Luke’s gospel is trying to tell us in its presentation of the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus.

It’s a fascinating story that raises a number of questions when we hear it for the first time.
Who is Lazarus? Why is he named and the rich man not? What was the rich man’s fault – after all he provided the means for Lazarus to survive by embracing his society’s “trickle-down” economy, did he not? Perhaps, like the leaf miner, the rich man was not able to lift his eyes to recognise or even relate to Lazarus. Yet he recognises him in the afterlife. But it’s too late – the horse has bolted. Then there is the rich man’s last ditch plea from Hades (which is not what is commonly understood as hell, by the way – it is the place of non-being, a shadowy space of non-existence in the Greek underworld) – send Lazarus back to warn my brothers.
Abraham replied,

I am pondering this morning whether the front door into this story is from the end rather than the beginning. ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’

Annie Dillard challenges us to rise above the leaf miner like preoccupation with the faint tracings of our lives to take in a wider view in order to really see what is going on around us.
Most often, like the one who lives well behind closed gates, we are not aware of Lazarus eking out his existence at our door. Lazarus is aware of us, he knows that it is our gate where he has taken up his post. He knows where the crumbs upon which he subsists come from. But do we know Lazarus, are we even aware of him? This is what the parable asks.

Alan Culpepper, in his commentary on Luke’s gospel, also draws attention to the Emmaus connection. This story is at the end of the gospel section of Luke’s documentary, acting as a kind of bridge into Acts, the story of the first Christian communities seeking to live the resurrection life.

This, Luke’s story suggests, is the only way to fill in the chasm that separates the kin of the rich from the kin of Lazarus.

So we engage with and throw ourselves at the task of preparing the way of the Lord by buiding bridges across human made chasms.

• Dietrich Bonhoeffer – I am conducting a study series for two congregations based on his life and thought in relation to Hitler and the Third Reich. A grassroots approach to discipleship and ethics saw him involved in a failed plot to overthrow the regime. He was arrested, imprisoned and finally executed. During this time he continued to write. His thought and commitment is relevant to issues before us as church and nation today.
• Zimbabwe – we have affective bonds within my congregation with the people of this nation – we are involved with the housing and education of AIDS orphans, a farming project and water bores. In the light of the escalation of officially sanctioned violence over the last week, people are asking what more they can do. The Bonhoeffer studies are heightening such questions,
• The Parable of the Lost Son was in yesterday’s lectionary. The sermon had to somehow address the unusual “ethics” within this story. The fresh discovery that the story makes no sense at all from an ethical point of view was somewhat liberating for those of us caught on the barbed wire fence of the ethical system suggested by Bonhoeffer. We came to an understanding of another awareness central to Bonhoeffer’s thinking – that of grace. Grace that is costly to both the giver and the receiver. The critical elder brother, self-expelled into the outer darkness because he couldn’t bare the celebrations, also experienced the offer of grace. The father came out from the party to be with him in his self imposed misery, not to commiserate, but to gently entice him to the place where there was light, joy and the possibility of reconciliation with his brother. Whether the elder brother received grace is unknown. Did he eventually go into the celebrations?

What does all this look like when twined together? Not much that will give answers to the dilemmas of justice that confront contemporary living. We have to work things out the best way we can (that’s basically what Bonhoeffer was saying, pointing to love for neighbour and the modelling of Jesus as his guiding principles). What we are offered is a stance – the stance of grace.

The overwhelming message from church leaders in Zimbabwe with whom we have had contact is that of courageous grace. This is shown through forthrightness in their will to care compassionately for and encourage their people, often against breathtaking odds. They are working out of an ethic that is saturated with grace.

Maybe our most important task is to learn from them.

Jerusalem, however, serially fell prey to corruption and political power plays, just as our own cities and power centres do – one only needs to look at this week’s headlines involving both Perth and Canberra to recognise as much.

What is one to do? The same as Jesus did. Refuse to be silent about the reign of God until somebody executes you. Then refuse to lie down, break the law again and be raised!

This was Fr John Dear’s challenge to a packed gathering in Perth this weekend as he called for radical obedience to non-violent peace-making. He knew what he was talking about. He has been arrested and jailed many times in the USA for expressions of opposition in the name of Jesus to warfare. Visit www.johndear.org for a fascinating and challenging insight to his ministry.

Last Sunday at the Church of Christ Wembley Downs, Robert Brittain unveiled a frieze depicting the vision in twenty four scenes. Robert presented the broad sweep of the vision, focusing on key events inspired by the words from the Lord’s Prayer, “on earth as in heaven.” The following question and answer session revealed a high level of interest and engagement on the part of the congregation.

Two lasting impressions were the power of the integrity of the work and the responses elicited by some of the images. Earlier in the week, as the frieze was being laid out to be set up, passers-by offered similar spontaneous reactions. It is a compelling work that invites participation with a body of scripture that is rarely engaged because it is considered overwhelming, threatening and too difficult to understand.

“What is different about this is its lightness – and obvious joyful, hopeful outcome,” said one visitor.

Another starkly notable feature was the prominence of the victim’s suffering negating evil design, first in the depiction of the slain Lamb, and then in all who were blessed through participating in him.

Robert Brittain is available to present his work on enquiry through the Wembley Downs Church of Christ, 9245 2593 or djr@cisp.com.au

Doherty asserts three crises currently facing the church and Western Society generally – the crisis of individualism, a crisis of faith, and a crisis of lifestyle. He seeks the answer in the kind of community spirituality suggested by the Celtic missionary era. Getting pretty close to the kind of society feted in Ephesians, it seems.

These days a review seems to be around every corner! When do we just hop in the bi-plane, leave the tarmac and go barn-storming! How to avoid the clutches of analysis paralysis.

But in my more reflective moments I can see the purpose of such reviews. It is simply because some risky ventures have been taking place that regular re-assessment is necessary. Like walking through a desert and needing to pause frequently to take a GPS reading to ensure we are still heading in the direction we earlier discerned. Such analysis is not paralysis – its purpose is to make sure we get to where we said we want to get!

In which case I am happy to embrace what begins this Sunday!

Now its here! Now its done!
A toilet that all can access -
the halt and the lame, the gent and the dame
may “go” with all speedy success.

“Let’s have a grand opening!”
the Board Chairman declared,
“and let the Lotteries rep be invited.”
So to Open House the hordes repaired -
all anticipatory, ready and excited.

Now how does one open a new WC
with appropriate flair and not rush?
Does one cut a ribbon? Unveil a plaque?
Or press a button and flush?

The Good Book provided a verse or two
to inspire some imaginative work
“Drink from your own cisterns,”
was the advice it put forth -
but methinks the connection a quirk!

Speeches were made, and thanks were expressed
To Lotteries and donors alike,
No ribbon was cut, no button depressed –
Morning tea was served instead!

Honestly!  We first confessed our perplexity given the coming face-off. Then we offered thanksgiving for the vibrancy and joie de vivre that is Brazil’s gift to the world. We prayed for Brazil’s national leadership, particularly in striving for outcomes of justice and mercy for the poor and dispossessed of that nation. We prayed for the church of Brazil in all its expressions and with all its challenges.

The outcome of the match is now well-known. We lost 2-0. Brazil showed why it is Number One, but the newcomers, the Socceroos, revealed a stamina and determination that did us proud. And Aussies love a good party. Nothing could keep them away from participating in Brazil’s celebrations. Better than the riots and destruction sometimes expressed by supercharged fans.

So ends a somewhat narrowly self-focused reflection on the phenomenon of the World Cup as it touched us yesterday.  The phenomenon of the World Cup raises a whole lot of other issues for reflection, but more on that later.

Public debate, emotive as it is, lines up as retribution vs rehabilitation. The apparent rehabilitation of Nguyen, enhanced by non-resistance, poise and concern for others around him, has leant more strength to the rehabilitation side than is usually the case.

It is Sir William Deane, previous Governor General of Australia, however, who hit the nub of the matter. Nguyen’s particular case aside, there is no natural justice in a state’s imposition of a mandatory death sentence for any offence. Forget appeals for clemency – there is always sufficient grounds for appeal on the basis of the harshness and injustice of mandatory sentencing that does not allow a court to assess all the circumstances.

Such voices of reason are drowned out however, when community emotions run high. The Australian community joins the rest of the world in paying a high price in the cost of young lives lost to the illicit drug trade. The true perpetrators are adept at avoiding the kind of trial which the naive Van Tuong Nguyen endured.

Today, we pray for all who suffer the effects of the greed of those who drive the illegal drug trade, including the now deceased Van Tuong Nguyen and his family.