Just Before Christmas

Well, it's been a long time since my last update. My 2011 postings have been sporadic, but at least it's not been quite as bad as the Great Blog Drought of 2008.

It's been a somewhat hectic couple of months. There are going to be some changes here at Canowindra for 2012. On a personal level, the biggest of those changes is that I have been asked to become the dean of the centre. I have already suffered a few 'James Dean' jokes, and expect this to be a theme for the year. Still, at least it's branching out from jokes about the English and bald people.

A year ago I was preparing for my trip to the UK, which turned out to be a excellent experience. 2011 has been a signficant year for me in terms of my personal spiritual development. David Benner says that "[t]he essence of Christian Spirituality is following Christ on a journey of personal transformation" and for me 2011 has been a rich year. I have come to value spiritual disciplines as powerful tools for affecting real change in lives - for me they have been the foundation of a growing daily awareness of the presence of God and the reality of an experience of Him.

2012 will be different again, I am sure, but I am confident that it will be another good year.

Lord Jesus,
May the sweet burning ardour of your love
Absorb my soul entirely,
And make me a stranger to all
That is not You or for You.

St. Francis of Assisi

We're back from a great holiday down in Victoria. We spent a week in Bendigo and then a week in Apollo Bay, which is on the Great Ocean Road.

I finished Story and found it to be an excellent book and well-worth reading for anyone who is interested in the art of telling a good story. I recommend it.

Off, Back and Off Again

I've just come back from a week in South Australia with some of our students. It was an excellent week, full of excellent good things and excellent bad things. What a wonderful perspective, that even the bad things that afflict us can be excellent.

It's something of a natural extension of the pondering that I did on the sacramental nature of suffering for my MTh dissertation. That there's a different between things that hurt us and things that harm us. The former is inevitable, but the latter only happens if our perspective on life (and our acceptance or non-acceptance of the promises that God makes) allow it.

Anyway, we're off on holiday this weekend. We've got some time in Victoria, which should be superb. I shall look to update the blog when we get back. I might share some thoughts from the book I've started reading - Story by Robert McKee.

I already like the quote at the beginning of the introduction:

"Stories are equipment for living."
Kenneth Burke.

Good one, Kenneth.

The Nine Sounds of Life

Ages ago, Pete developed a unique resource for creating opportunities to talk about Jesus. It's a set of nine cards, which you can use in a variety of ways. A YouTube video has been posted, demonstrating how they can be used in coversation. Take a look by following the link below.

Pete Volkofsky Doing His Thing.

What I am Reading...

I'm currently reading a book by Larry Crabb called Connecting. I've read a little bit of Crabb's work in the past and always found it worthwhile, but Connecting is a quite brilliant book. It's the first book I've read in a while where I disagree somewhat strongly with some of the details, whilst also being absolutely convinced and enthralled by both the premise of the book and also by huge chunks of the text that he writes.

His central argument is that we tend to respond to brokeness in ourselves and others by one of two methods - either by moralising; a 'try harder' mentality or by delegating to a professional counselling class who believe that a cure can be found by exploring and understanding the darkest recesses of our soul. Instead he suggests that the real problem is being disconnected from one another and, ultimately, from God. The solution, therefore, lies in a process of re-connecting rather than anything else. People are made whole, not by trying harder or by undergoing counselling, but rather by, essentially, having someone love them into unleashing the potential for good that exists in every redeemed heart.

It's an interesting book, not least because Crabb himself is a counsellor and is thus qualified to comment on the value of his profession. It's also intriguing for me, as I have had what I would term a life-changing, beneficial experience of counselling. However, on reflecting on that experience, I now believe that the immense value of my counselling relationship was not in the counselling, but rather in the relationship. For me, my counseller was someone through whom I experienced healing because he connected with me much like the way that Crabb describes. Indeed, after I had finally finished my sessions (and had 'SANE' stamped on my record), I remained in touch with him as a friend and a brother. The relationship transcended the professional, and I believe that is consistent with what Crabb is writing.

In conclusion, I'll copy out one of the aforementioned chunks of text that struck me. I love Crabb's passion, imagery and forceful writing here. Plus, I agree wholeheartedly with what he is arguing. In this passage he is talking about our struggle with the flesh, our old nature, and it gives a good feel for how the whole book reads:

The flesh, the enemy within, dons a friendly uniform, one that a Christian might wear, and suggests reasonable directions. We welcome him into our ranks. When he causes trouble, we try to whip him into shape, get him to cooperate with the program, and stop interfering with our efforts to do things right. Or we work hard to figure him out. What makes him tick? Why does he demand gratification that way? Maybe a journey into the past will uncover the source of these crazy tendencies and enable us to reason more effectively with him.

What we need to do, of course, is shoot him. Naive Christians, the kind who want to freely release the goodness within them and trust their hearts to lead them aright, do not want to enter the battle raging in their souls. They have no appetite for identifying and destroying the enemy. Spiritual warfare, they hope, will involve only light skirmishes, never a fight-till-someone-dies conflict.

Obsessive Christians on the other hand, spend more time studying the enemy than fighting him. Specialists in understanding sin can describe how every hurtful experience from your childhood has impacted you, how you've dissociated, self-hated and idolized false gods, all in the service of running from God. Obsessives listen carefully and take notes.

For them, understanding their insides becomes a never-ending pursuit, energized by the hope that gaining insight into the dynamics of the flesh will somehow weaken its power, or give them better control over it.

Thoughtfully aware Christians, however, neither naive or obsessed, know that the enemy must be identified and identified carefully. The disguise must be ripped away, the horror of the enemy's ugliness and the pain he creates must be seen, not to understand the ugliness, not to endlessly study the pain, but to shoot the enemy.

And if he doesn't stay dead, we must shoot him again, then beat him, then tie him down in the sand under a hot desert sun, turn loose an army of red ants on his body and walk away without sympathy. And then we must do it again and again and again, till we're home. An overdone metaphor? Not when we see the enemy for who he is, for what he wants to do. We are at war, the enemy within is the flesh, and he wants to ruin our relationships and thwart God's plan.

If we don't hate the enemy, we'll hate something or someone else. The mother will hate her disrespectful son or herself or her divorced husband or God - until she identifies the real enemy.

Continuing the Theme...

...of reposting here things that I have already written, here's a short piece of mine that was recently published over at Microhorror.

It's called 'For Sale'.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Come…on…MOVE…you…son…of…a…

Muscles bulged but the jar lid remained unrepentant. This was getting embarrassing. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time; such a simple idea. Offer to open the new jar for the girl in the kitchen. Impress the girl of his dreams. She didn’t look impressed right now. She looked bored.

I…can’t…believe…this…is…happening…

Still no movement. Not even a fraction of a fraction. The girl had stopped looking bored and was now beginning to look faintly amused. He didn’t know which was worse.

She’s…laughing… at…me…please…open…please…I’ll…do…anything…

Suddenly a hissing, slithering voice whispered in the silence, in the deepest backdrop of his mind.

“Anything?”

- - - -

In the darkness of the under realm, the two demons put the finishing touches to the contract.

“…for the ability to open a jar of sun-dried tomatoes? Really?”

The first demon sounded shocked and a little disgusted. The second demon nodded dolefully.

“There’s no challenge these days. It’s just not fun any more,” he moaned. The first demon finished the document with a flourish of his pen, and slowly shook his head.

“You know what I reckon? I reckon those humans have stopped taking their souls seriously.”

Filler Post

I've not posted for too long, so I'm throwing this up. That might sound like I'm vomiting, but I'm not.

Ruth was away for a week at the end of June, and when she got back I nearly died of flu. Following that we've had about thirty university students here for two weeks. My time has been flittered away on strange and ultimately fruitless pursuits.

Reid will be seven on Saturday. I can't quite believe that he'll be such a big boy. I enjoy all of my children, and they are all so different. It's strange to see little creatures that are a combination of Ruth and myself in personality as well as features. It's also hard to see my own flaws reproduced in my offspring, especially as I know that overcoming some of those flaws will involve walking a difficult path. I suppose that's better than being oblivious to my flaws and therefore unable to help my children grow.

Flower

I've been trying to write a bit more recently. I thought I'd put something up on my blog, because I've not updated in a while.

So here's something I wrote a couple of weeks ago:

The boy found a seed. He didn’t know what kind of a seed it was. He was just a boy. But even the boy knew that seeds were made to be planted, so that is what he did. He buried it in the earth and attended to it. He watered it every day, each time looking and praying and hoping to see a shoot pushing its way out of its earthy coffin. Just a boy, and he loved that seed and that flower-to-be as only a boy could.

One day, to his delight, a green shoot, peeping out at him. The boy learned a lesson that day. Faith and love were always rewarded. He nurtured that young plant like a mother until it blossomed into a beautiful yellow flower. It was not the biggest flower, nor the prettiest, but to that boy it was wondrous and – more importantly – it was his.

Then his parents took him to one side to educate him. The flower was a dandelion. A dandelion was a weed. The boy had grown a weed. The boy was heart-broken. He walked away from his flower and never looked back. He had showered his affection on something that was a flower in disguise. It was no longer beautiful. A useless, dirty weed. He was ashamed of its ugliness and of his stupidity. The boy learned another lesson, but this one tasted bitter.

The Lesson: There is nothing more foul-tasting than to be disappointed; to find that the flower you had invested yourself in was actually a weed. It is better not to care. It is better not to love unless you are absolutely certain, one-hundred-percent convinced that the seed is that of a rose. Beware, lest you pour yourself into something or someone useless. Beware, weeds masquerading as flowers.

The boy walked away that day. Do not judge him too harshly. He was only a boy, after all. I hope that when he becomes a man he may see things differently. That he may see things the same way as the wrinkled, wizened Albanian nun who saw the face of Christ in the poorest, ugliest beggars. Who saw a flower in every weed.

I pray that when he becomes a man he may see things differently. That he may see things the same way as the wandering, preaching carpenter who said “Whatever you do for the least of these weeds, you do for Me.”

I am sure that when he becomes a man he will see things differently. He will be taken by the hand, led into the garden and spoken to: “You see all these faces, all these spectacular flowers? They were weeds that somebody loved.”

Photos

I realised that I haven't updated for a while, and Ruth has been telling me that I need to put more photos up and that people aren't interested in my 'introspective navel-gazing egotistical dribblings' so here are some photos.

The first few are of children, just so you can see what they have become. The next few are chronicle our rodent problems. We've had a minor mouse plague here (in this part of New South Wales actually) with a major one predicted for later in the year. Also, our neighbour released some guinea pigs into the wild (i.e. our garden) and they had some babies. We caught the babies because they are slow and stupid. We were going to give them away, but 'unfortunately' they all died in our care. Ruth felt bad. I didn't, seeing as it was her fault that they died. But that's a story for another time.

So, children and then horrible rodents.

Church and Mission

Just a question. In the book of Acts, where was the most common place to call people to leave their old life and follow Christ? I don't know the technically-correct answer, but what I can tell you is that it wasn't at church.

The vibe of the New Testament seems to be that church is for believers to worship and be discipled, and mission is something that happens outside of the church. I can't help but feel like something has gone wrong if church is where our mission happens. The call to new life in Christ should be happening in the marketplace, the Temple Courtyard and the Lecture Hall of Tyrannus. The call to growth; to learn how to use our time and money; to understand better the consequences of God's reality - these things should be happening in the gathering of believers.

When the two are mixed-up, then it is less than ideal. Disciples are repeatedly fed milk rather than meat and, just as bad, there is less encouragement to take the call of discipleship to those foreign places. Instead, mission becomes about inviting people to church, where we have paid professionals to do all the hard work. "Hey, it's my job to get them here - the rest is up to you."

No. The local church exists to feed disciples so that they are equipped and empowered to take the Gospel into the world in which they live and work. A church is not missional because it has seeker-sensitive services. A church is missional if the body are encouraged and enabled to live, pray, proclaim and take risks as followers of Jesus from Monday to Saturday.

Simplicity and Greed

So, now I am an Australian resident 'for tax purposes' I need to fill out a tax return. The Australian financial year runs from July to June, so I'm a bit late with my 2009-2010 return. Actually, I was oblivious to the need to complete one until I received a letter from Centrelink about our Family Assistance benefits last week.

When you have the kind of financial arrangements that we have, filling out a tax return is pretty straightforward. However, I was a bit confused about what we do with gifts that we receive into our UK bank account. Did I have to declare those or not? I finally managed to talk to the Australian Tax Office this morning and they answered my questions very helpfully. They also gave the 'right' answer in that I'm no longer being threatened with a bill for unpaid taxes, instead we may be entitled to a refund. This may have some pleasant repercussions for other payments we receive as well.

Anyway, a couple of weeks ago a few of us men were talking about what it means to live a life of 'simplicity', which is one of the things that we aim for as a Christian community. Benedictine monks tooks vows of obedience, chastity and poverty. In Cornerstone we try and emulate these with the principles of obedience, purity and simplicity. Simplicity is a tricky concept to grasp. How does one live simply in a society where material needs are easily met? Is my DVD collection too big? Do I have too many clothes? What does it mean to live in simplicity where advertising gurus - knowing full well that our basic needs are met - generate a whole load of new needs by bombarding us with constant messages that we are incomplete unless we have this latest car, holiday, game, house, modern convenience or whatever?

So when I found out that we might be entitled to a refund, I suddenly became anxious about making sure I chased up everybody that I needed to chase up to ensure that we got all the money that we were 'entitled' to. On almost immediate reflection, I realised that I was violating Jesus' command to not worry. But instead of worrying about whether or not I would have enough to eat, I was suddenly worrying about making sure that I would get all that I was owed. It didn't seem a particularly pleasant place to be.

Sure, if I can claim money that the government has decided that I am entitled to, then I am certainly going to do that. But there was that thread of anxiety which troubled me a bit. It seemed more like greed. Paul, of course, knew what it was to be content in all circumstances - whether hungry or full; clothed or naked; tax-billed or tax-refunded. To me, and this came out in the discussion that we had, simplicity has at its heart the idea of contentment; that my tax status was not to intrude in any measure on the peace of my heart. There was to be no anxiety over a tax bill or a tax refund, because simplicity has at its heart the unshakeable conviction that it is God who provides, and that life does not live in what we possess.

If my DVD collection reflects a lack of contentment with what I possess, then I am not living simply. If the next computer purchase is made with the aim of meeting some sense of spiritual need that I think that I have, then I am not living simply.

Because of the environment of plenty in which we live, it's sometimes hard to discern where the law of simplicity has been broken, but I find the idea of living simply highly appealing. This is because I find the idea of contentment highly appealing. This is because I find the idea of freedom highly appealing. It is not because I find the idea of tax refunds appealing.

The Cost of Success

When I was studying in London I was an infrequent attendee of Westminster Chapel. This was back when RT Kendall was the minister. Dr K had an uncommon gift for preaching and I benefited from my time at the WC. One thing that he said that has stuck with me was something he quoted from his predecessor, Martin Lloyd-Jones. He said "The worst thing that can happen to a man is for him to succeed before he is ready."

I have taken this to heart because I see the truth in it. In one sense it's obvious, because we see young rock, film and sports stars put in the spotlight of success and see them ruined by it. They can't handle the fame or money, and it ultimately destroys them. Of course, it's usually a delayed reaction. The destructive success of their twenties may not be felt until they are much older.

We often worry about and put a lot of effort into mitigating the effects of failure, but in a way the damage that success can do is just as bad and it comes in more attractive packaging. It's potential harm disguised as something good. We will even applaud people who find themselves successful before they are ready for it.

Success in the hands of someone who is ready for it; mature enough to shape it rather than let it shape them, is a good thing. But many of us lust after success without asking ourselves if we are ready for it.

The Worst of All Sins...?

Many years ago I listened to a quite excellent teaching tape by R.C. Sproul on the topic of whether or not God counted all sins the same. His conclusion was "No", but I'm not going to go through his arguments here because this is just a nifty introduction rather than the point of the post. Plus, it's been a while since I listened to it and I am not sure I could do it justice were I to try and replicate it here.

Anyway, at times I have pondered exactly what sins are worse than others - especially in light of an insert in an old Lust Control or One Bad Pig tape (I can't recall which it was) offering me the chance to send off for a pamphlet explaining "Why Sexual Sins are Worse".

I've had a sneaking suspicion that God might judge sin based not on the act itself - sexual or otherwise - but rather on the impact that it has on relationships with God and others. It's just a sneaking suspicion, and I don't have any hard evidence to back it up, but one of the things that made me wonder about this is the story in 2 Samuel 11 & 12 of David's adulterous relationship with Bathsheba. When Nathan pronounces judgement on David he makes the remark that the baby will die because by his actions "...you have made the enemies of the LORD show utter contempt...". It seems that the issue here is how David's behaviour reflects on God. Now, rather than getting upset about whether or not this means God cares more about His honour than the murder of innocents and the ruining of families - which is not the suggestion that I am making - I would rather put it to you that the sin of a Christian is automatically a bigger deal than the sin of a non-Christian, because we drag God's name though the mud when we fall short. It should be a sobering thought.

Anyway, I've been thinking about this again because I've been re-reading What's So Amazing About Grace? by Philip Yancey. It's been about ten years since I read it last, so I thought it was time for a re-read, especially in light of the fact that a couple of my friends of have been reading it recently and it's come up in conversation.

I've just finished reading the chapter called 'Grace-Healed Eyes' which is about Yancey's relationship with Mel White, an evangelical Christian who came out as a homosexual. The chapter is mostly about how the Church relates to homosexuality, and the strong feelings of ungrace that the topic produces in Christians. Yancey makes the point, quite correctly, that the Christian stance to homosexuals is typically full of ungrace and that this is wrong. Yet at the same time, he's asking how you deal with and show grace in a situation where there is clear sin at work. It's a good chapter in a good book.

However, I found myself wondering about something that Yancey doesn't write about. You see, Mel White went on to be ordained and continues to be active as a Christian. As a result, what he does he does in God's name. I couldn't help but feel that both White and his condemners were actually guilty of the same sin - misrepresenting God. Those who hated him defined him by his sexuality and related to him that way - with ungrace and condemnation. His sexuality put him beyond the pale, but in reality he is no less loved by God than any of us, and in just as much need of God's grace. Those who hate homosexuals because they are homosexual, and do this in the name of God, are in great danger of finding themselves accused by Nathan just as David was. But likewise, Mel White seems to be guilty of re-interpreting his faith in light of his sexuality; of deciding to shape The Reality in light of his personal reality, and as such could also be charged with misrepresenting God. I felt that the hot potato issue of homosexuality was something of a red herring here. The real issue was that both sides of the argument were doing what they did in God's name, and as such were both in danger of making God's enemies show contempt. That is not something to be taken lightly.

Of course, in thinking about this I find myself wondering about how to avoid falling into the same trap. The temptation to define God in light of my personal revulsions or attractions is ever present. "I will love and hate what God loves and hates" very easily becomes "God loves and hates what I love and hate". I guess the only way to limit it is to recognise it as a possibility, and come before God with humility, allowing Him to shape me rather than vice versa. It cannot be impossible to walk the right path, but I acknowledge that it's very hard to do.

Being Taken Advantage Of

When thinking about being a servant of others, I've often wondered about being taken advantage of. How far do you go without becoming a door mat? I know I'm not the only one who's wondered about this, and I've read some discussion about this in the past. Sometimes this question revolves about being a 'man' and how much rubbish you have to take from someone. A couple of years ago I read Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster and he writes this;

"...[W]e must see the difference between choosing to serve and choosing to be a servant. When we choose to serve we are still in charge. We decide whom we will serve and when we will serve. And if we are in charge we will worry a great deal about anyone's stepping on us, i.e., taking charge over us. But when we choose to be a servant we give up the right to be in charge."

So to Foster if you are asking the question "How far do I go in serving without being walked all over?" you are not truly serving. You are still thinking about protecting yourself rather than serving others.

It's hard to think like this, but I have to say that Foster's understanding fits the tone of the gospels far better than the "Serve others...but don't be taken advantage of" motif that I find seems more acceptable to us. I just can't imagine Jesus, carrying the cross to Golgotha, thinking to himself "Gee, I hope these guys don't take advantage of my servant nature."

As Foster goes on to say...

"There is great freedom in this. If we voluntarily choose to be taken advantage of, then we cannot be manipulated...the fear that we will be taken advantage of and stepped on is justified. That is exactly what may happen. But who can hurt someone who has freely chosen to be stepped on?"

Once again, the truth of Christianity is found in its paradoxical nature. We fulfil the self by denying the self. We find freedom in slavery. We find life in dying to self, for what fear does life hold for someone who is already dead?

Utopian Dreams

I would like to take this opportunity to recommend a book to you. It's called Utopian Dreams and it's by Tobias Jones.

Jones is an Oxford-educated journalist who lives in Parma, and his book is about his experience spending a year travelling and visiting five different communities. It's a book about community, and whether or not anything founded on Idealism can be of value.

What makes this book of interest to me is the direction that Jones takes it. Firstly, he admits that his interest in communities and idealism is driven by his dissatisfaction with the bankrupt existence of postmodernity. As he puts it '[t]he promise of happiness has created an epidemic of depression. It's us who are being consumed, not the objects".

Secondly, despite not being religious himself, Jones comes to the conclusion that the communities that are most successful at challenging the malaise of postmodernity are those which have religion as a foundation. Yet, not just any religion, for Jones is also unimpressed with expressions of New Age religion which are focussed almost exclusively on the self and mirror many of postmodernity's worst traits.

It's a good read, and well worth it for those of you who are interested in culture, community and what the Gospel might have to offer to our society of well-fed and free-time rich drones.

Also, the book taught me that the word 'idiocy' has its roots in the Greek word 'idiotes' which originally meant 'a private person'. The logical conclusion here is that wisdom is found not with the individual but within a community.

Reflecting on Anger

I've been thinking a bit about anger over the past few days. Mainly, when is anger a legitimate reaction, or as I have been asked several times over the past few years, "When does anger become 'righteous' anger"?

I agree very much with what Neil Anderson says in the Freedom in Christ course that anger is generally a response that we have to a blocked goal. For example, when our goal is to get to a meeting on time, if we find ourselves in a traffic jam then anger is the typical reaction. Anderson follows up, rightly I believe, by suggesting that we should only have goals that are within our control. Getting to a meeting on time is not always in our control (such as with the traffic jam example), so we are asking for trouble if we make that our goal. Anderson suggests that if our goals are things that are within our power to make happen then anger will be a decreasing influence in our life, because we'll find ourselves facing fewer blocked goals. This makes good sense and I've found it very helpful.

However, what I've then been forced to consider is whether anger is always a result of a blocked goal. If it is, then surely anger is always wrong, and doesn't it therefore become 'sin'? In Ephesians 4:26 Paul draws a distinction between anger and sin by quoting Psalm 4 and writing "In your anger do not sin". Following this, sin is not anger, but something that might be born our of anger. This distinction makes me unable to accept the suggestion that anger is always wrong.

But if anger isn't always wrong, then under what circumstances is it right? I'm not happy with the manufactured distinction between 'regular anger' and 'righteous anger', but it does acknowledge this tricky question.

Some people point at the cleansing of the Temple as a time when Jesus exercised anger, but I've been reading the Gospels on this matter and I'm not convinced this was something that Jesus did in anger. John's account makes specific reference to an Old Testament verse - "Zeal for my father's house will consume me" - and zeal is a different thing to anger. Jesus's passion for the honour of God's name does not necessarily equate to anger. A bouncer can throw someone out of a nightclub without having to be angry. Instead I wonder if our attribution of anger to Jesus here is because he's acting in an 'angry' way and so we make the necessary assumption, perhaps because we're used to flamboyant actions being an expression of emotion rather than being a considered choice. But equally, it's hard to read Matthew 23 and not imagine Jesus being at least a tiny bit annoyed.

Perhaps it's as simple as asking what is causing our anger? Anger over a missed meeting is a different thing, surely, to anger over an injustice done to a friend. Perhaps it comes down to whether or not we're angry in our own defence, or whether or not we're angry in defence of others or God? Or perhaps anger is just the emotional response to a situation, and then we have a choice to make about how to respond: "Self-control" or "Lack of Self-Control"? The latter leads to sin, and the former may lead to the cleansing of a Temple and the restoration of God's honour.

Just some thoughts, which I'm still processing.

Journaling the Journey

When I was a young and impressionable Christian (as opposed to being the old and impressionable Christian that I am now) I was encouraged to keep a 'prayer journal'. Even now I am still unsure what a 'prayer journal' is, but I've been writing stuff down for a while now. Actually, I've been writing stuff down since 28th February 1996. At least, that's the date on the first page of my first journal.

It's gone up and down. Sometimes there have been periods of months where I wrote nothing (I'm sure there's a silent period of at least a year somewhere in my history) and then others times it's been a daily habit. Generally, I've recorded my feelings and thoughts about how I am on a given day, and what God might be up to. Other things make an appearance every now and then, such as lists of people to pray for and quotes that I thought were so good that I should record them somewhere, but on the whole it's a collection of where my soul has been over the past fifteen years.

And I'm thankful for it. It's been immensely helpful for me to have documented evidence that I have grown in my faith over the past fifteen years. It's encouraging to have records of what God has done, both in my life and the lives of others. It's amazing to see how the things that I feared the most never actually came to pass, and that God has kept His promises. It's great to see how my theology has developed and my thinking has changed. It's humbling to see the context of my journey, to see the patterns and plans come together leading me not necessarily to a certain role or location, but rather towards Christ-likeness.

I am very glad that I made the decision to keep a journal and very glad that I still have them to look back on. It's easy to forget things. It's the natural state actually. It's remembering things that takes work, and every footstep on my journey with God is worth remembering.

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

I've thought a lot over the past couple of years about the role that fear plays in my life, and the lives of others. I think of it as the most powerful motivator that human beings have. Back in the day I used to play a lot of video games, and there's a quote from a game called Max Payne: "I don't know about angels, but it's fear that gives men wings". I learnt a lot from video games.

What I think about is how different my life seems to Jesus' life. I think about how many things I do or don't do out of fear, and try and get a sense from the Gospels about what role fear played in Jesus' life and ministry. I find it impossible to read the Gospels and come to the conclusion that Jesus was ever motivated by fear. I don't mean that he was never afraid, I'm sure that's not the case, but rather that when he was afraid he never allowed it to be the fear that made his choice for him. I think of Gethsemene where the Biblical witness gives the impression that he was most certainly afraid, yet what motivated him; what did he choose? "Not my will, but Yours".

I have no doubt that Jesus was never once motivated by fear. Think about your own life. Think about the things you do or don't do because you are afraid. Think about what you say or don't say because you are afraid. Think about the prison you find yourself in because you are afraid of what people are thinking, or rather, afraid of what you think people are thinking.

Now imagine living in freedom. Not free from fear, but free from the power of fear. Free from having your choices dictated to you by that gnawing rat in your soul. Think about that kind of freedom. That's how Christ lived.

Did you know that the first emotion expressed by Adam in the Bible is fear? "I heard you coming and I hid because I was afraid". Letting fear control your decisions is a Fruit of the Fall, certainly not a Fruit of the Spirit. Rather, Galatians 5 tells us that walking in the Spirit leads to self-control. In other words, you chooose. You are not dictated to by your fear, loathing or envy. You choose. Sure, you can still choose to let those Fruits of the Fall have the final say - or you can choose something different. You can choose the path that Christ walked.

How would your life look if it was the Holy Spirit rather than fear that gave you wings?

Home Again

Well, I'm home again. Back in Australia, suffering from jet lag. It's five o'clock in the morning here and I've been awake for a few hours. I'm hoping to push through the tiredness and force myself to follow normal hours. I was very tired yesterday, my first day back.

My journey home wasn't too thrilling. By the end I was willing it to be over.

So, how was my trip to the UK? Great. I had a really good time and it was very special to catch up with family and friends. It was also an excellent time of reflection. Having the opportunity to revisit places that have been signficant for me on my journey with God was hugely beneficial. I simply spent a bit of time at each place reminding myself what I learnt while I was there. It gave me a profound sense of perspective and awareness of the fact that I have been moving in a good direction over the past fifteen years. It was helpful to see how the things that I experienced ten or more years ago have shaped me in such a way that I am able to do well what I do today. There is great power in pilgrimage.

I have no regrets about the past, and no conviction other than that Australia is our home now. We are in the right place doing the right thing. For this I am extremely thankful to God.

Back in the UKKR

My time in the UK is coming to an end. Just this weekend to go and then I'll be bundled onto a metal bird and face a potentially unthrilling twenty hour flight (plus five hours by surface once I land) before I get home.

I say 'potentially' because it might turn out to be thrilling. I'm not talking about hijackings or anything like that, though if movies have taught us anything it's that there's always a retired Marine somewhere on the flight and he just needs to be coaxed gently back into action so that he can come to terms with the death of his buddy on that disastrous black ops mission from five years back. I'm not even talking about the opportunity I'll have to watch seven six-month-old films in a row (plus an episode of The Simpsons). No, rather the potential thrills come from the fact that there will be people there, and wherever people are there is the potential for thrillage. It's a big thing for a misanthropic introvert like me to say that, but I mean it. I wouldn't have really thought like that once, but this is one of the ways that Cornerstone has changed me. God is always at work, and He works in people, so consequently wherever there are people, there are potential thrills.

I've had a really good time while over here, and I've fulfilled my objective of reflection and pilgrimage. I feel like I've found some solid footing again, but uncertain ground is not really going to stop me from moving forward anyway. It's written into my contract with God.

It's hard to be here and see the flooding in Brisbane on the news. I don't know anyone who lives in Brisbane, at least not directly, but Australia is my home now and I feel sensitive to her struggles and hardships. After so many years of drought, I wonder how much more her spirit can take. I tell you something, Australians are a wonderful and resilient people.

Thank you to all the wonderful UKites who have accommodated me (literally and otherwise) while I've been here. It's been great to see you all again. The next time I blog I'll be back Down Under, and will probably offer a review of my time here.