Mercy, justice, compassion

Lately we have been studying books like 'Small is Beautiful' and 'Pedagogy of the Oppressed' and looking at how God sees injustice in the world as he spoke through the Old Testament prophets. Jesus himself announced his ministry on Earth by quoting Isaiah 4:18,19;

God's Spirit is on me;

he's chosen me to preach the Message of good news to

the poor,

Sent me to announce pardon to prisoners and

recovery of sight to the blind,

To set the burdened and battered free,

to announce, "This is God's year to act!"

There has also been the anniversary of the illegalization of the slave trade in England; we've studied some of the great reformers, Lord Shaftsbury, Wilberforce, Wesley, Luther, Booth; yet still the world is full of injustice, the rich nations oppress the poor, powerless people are still trafficked in their thousands in the modern day slave trade, third world workers are exploited, young girls forced into prostitution, major corporations more often than not are concerned with the profit margin over and above the welfare of their workers. To be truly Christian, we must align ourselves with the poor and carry on Christ's mission to the oppressed. But what can one person one do?

Awareness of the issues is a start, knowledge is powerful. Frustration is better than apathy…

It's time to go to the archives. Here's a poem I wrote long time ago:

Sole Music

The squeak of his boots as he shoots for his goals,

Brings payment for his fame in the game,

He gained the world when he leased his soles;

Twenty million dollars for his Name.

The tingling ring of the register drawer;

Takes her two hundred dollars from her view,

'...But to wear a pair like Jordan wore'

Said her son 'is the cool thing to do...'

Sewing Machines stutter on the sweat shop floor

Where the boots are produced at a price.

Sixty hours a week at eighty cents an hour

Barely covers the cost of his rice.

The African mourns the death of his daughter

But drought, dust and war leave naught to eat,

No land, no home, no hope, no water,

No boots! He's thankful he has feet.

The squeak of the boots, the register's ring;

The sewing machines click clackity.

The rich man, the poor, who mourn, who sing?

Listen

To the din

Of Inequity...

small coincidence

On the way back from Uluru, we stopped one day for lunch in Port Augusta, in a nice park in the centre of the town. I could see from where we parked the bus the old Salvo hall, just further up the street. I used to live in the house right next door to that! My parents were the Salvo officers in Port Augusta when I was about 4. A fair while back now...
The house is no longer there... But sitting in the park, we found a Warcry, the Salvo magazine. And in it was an article about Christian Radio Broadcasting in Australia! About half a column on that story was about a woman called Sarah McIllwraith, a program director at a Christian radio station in Adelaide, who had trained in radio here in Poatina with Fusion. We wondered if this was a sister of our class-mate Julia, who hadn't come to Uluru with us (but I had borrowed her plastic plates for the trip). It turned out it was! Cool!
A further small coincidence. My friend Fiona, who is currently doing a doctorate in theology (at a much bigger bible school that the one I am at now) and has also worked on radio - some of it was as a producer for ABC radio in Horsham (a much bigger radio station than Heart fm where I work!), also lived in Port Augusta as a pre-schooler, when HER parents were officers in Port Augusta. hmmm

Uluru song

Uluru 2007 Tasmania Song

Sweet Home in the Outback

Bus wheels keep on turning

See red dirt everywhere

We’re far from home Tasmania

To meet some fine folk such as you

Sweet home in the Outback

The Southern Cross is in our sights

We’re a bunch of Tassie Pilgrims

Big Red Rock we’re comin’ to you!

We went to Tandanya

Learnt about the didgeridoo

Aboriginals call it Yiriki

We hope you learnt something new

We stayed in caves in Coober Pedy

Had a look around the town

Sang some songs and we got tired

Way before the sun went down

We have faced some persecution

10 Million flies are in our face

As pilgrims we should love our enemies

We’ll make exceptions in this case

We’ll soon be off home back to Tassie

Goodbye heat wave, hello thermals

With all your faces in our memories

We will bare the winter cold

Sweet home Tasmania

We have gone to the rock

Now we’ve got crusty undies

And a pair of smelly socks

George sings!

For all his faults, George has a nice singing voice. See him here covering a U2 classic!

George George George...

I'd like to quote the President of the United States of America... In a recent speech where he offers condolences to the shooting victims in Virginia he says, ' In times like this, we can find comfort in the grace and guidance of a loving God. As the Scriptures tell us, "Don't be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."'

They are fine words, worthy of a statesman. But didn't they apply back on Sept 11, 2001 also?

Wow, how would the 'War on Terror' have gone if we had applied this to it? If America had bombed Afghanistan with a billion dollars worth of food, or better still, intelligent sensitive aid? And Iraq? It would be hard to drum up support to attack people who are being overwhelmingly nice to you? What family would allow their sons to be suicide bombers to destroy the people who are making your life so much better? Many of those boys come from desperate poverty and do it partly to stop these American devils, but also because their families are taken care of.

I don't know. I'm rambling a bit here... Probably George W is correct in all he does. But am I alone in thinking that there is a sort of disconnect between this quote and events in the Middle East? No easy answers, but who ever said 'Love your Enemies' was the easy path to take?

How would the world be if we took that seriously?

Easter Conspiracy

Around two thousand years ago there lived a man.

He lived in an obscure backwater of the Roman Empire,

and never ventured out of that region.

For three years he walked from town to town with a small group of friends,

an itinerant story teller.

He held no formal position of civic, religious or military authority,

or even owned property beyond the clothing he wore.

He was executed with common criminals, and laid to rest in a borrowed tomb.

And yet, the implications of this life and death are still felt today.

When Jesus was buried, his followers were a dispirited lot. One of them had even hung himself when he realized that betraying him into the hands of the authorities would not result in glorious revolution against the Romans, but a cruel, shameful death. Their world had caved in. The One they thought would bring about God’s Kingdom on Earth was dead.

Could it be then that this small group of ordinary people could pull off the greatest hoax in history by stealing the body of Jesus from the tomb, and proclaiming him alive?

Firstly the disciples would have to come up with the story – Myth making of epic proportions – that Jesus had risen from the dead, and the redemptive outcomes of that in God’s great scheme of things. They had virtually one day of mourning to come up with a huge, subtle and sophisticated theology – and this from the minds of a bunch of rough, thick-headed fishermen and other un-learned working men!

Next they needed to steal the body. If Jesus’ body was not hidden away, the authorities only had to produce it to prove that the disciples were lying. To steal the body, this group of ordinary guys, who two days earlier were too afraid to even witness the crucifixion, would need to take on a contingent of heavily armed Roman troops who were guarding the tomb. And if that occurred, all Jerusalem would have heard of it. As it was, the guards maintained that the Disciples stole the body as they slept. They must’ve been heavy sleepers not to hear the huge stone dragged away from the entrance of the tomb! But sleeping on duty was punishable by death for Roman Soldiers. It was generally accepted that the Jewish religious leaders bribed them to tell that story after promising to fix things up with their superiors.

And then, they would need to stick to this story, no matter what. How could they get away with this, telling this story in the very time and place that it happened unless it was true? There would’ve been plenty of witnesses to confirm or deny what had happened, a fraud would’ve quickly been exposed. Apart from a certain amount of fame, there would be no gain for them in proclaiming a risen Jesus. What selfish advantage could be gained from such a story? Virtually all of the disciples would die martyrs deaths maintaining the truth of the resurrection right to the end. Who knowingly would die for a lie?

But perhaps Jesus didn’t die on the cross. Maybe he was unconscious and revived in the cool of the tomb?

There are a few problems with this theory. When Roman Soldiers execute people, they are extremely efficient, nobody survives a crucifixion. There were strict procedures in place; in fact bungled crucifixions resulted in the would-be executors being executed themselves. Jesus’ legs were not broken to hasten his death because he was already dead on the cross. John, an eyewitness, wrote in his Gospel that when the soldier put his spear through Jesus’ side, blood and water flowed out. Forensic experts would attest that this is a sure sign of death, total lung collapse, asphyxiation, the blood breaking down into its constituent parts.

If by some miracle Jesus had survived and was laid unconscious in the tomb, and revived, this badly beaten, seriously injured man had to singled-handedly move the huge stone in front of the tomb entrance and overpower a contingent of Roman Guards, who would be in deadly trouble for letting a dead man escape.

And when Jesus did re-unite with his followers, they were convinced that he was gloriously resurrected and not someone in need of intensive care. He was able to convince ‘Doubting’ Thomas (my Lord and my God) and his own disbelieving brother James that something miraculous had happened.

Jesus’ life and death are the most recorded events of the Ancient era; there is no doubt that they actually happened. And the circumstances surrounding his resurrection make it’s happening far more likely than it not happening. The evidence adds plausibility to his claims of being the son of God. It’s worth thinking about.

Uluru Journal

Hey everyone. Easter comes soon, and with it, the big Uluru pilgrimage!
Check out the journal, it's updated every day. And pray for us, it's a big event, lifechanging for many of the young people who go.
The Uluru Journal

Latrobe Festival

Well, that was a fun day! Just now come in from doing a festival in Latrobe, a nice town north of here, I think it's a bit to the left of Davenport. A bunch of us from Poatina went up there to help out the local churches with their first Easter Festival, and it was a lot of fun, as these things always are. The public were suprised and pleased to find that everything was free, the sausages, the coffee, the games, my expert tuition in stilt walking... everything!

Families came to pass an hour and stayed all afternoon, and a lovely friendly atmosphere was created, a corner of the Kingdom of Heaven. I spent most of the day helping kids (and the odd brave adult) try out stilts and geeter boards - when three or four people strap their feet to a pair of boards and try to walk in step. Harder than it looks!

There was water balloon Volleyball, and some new statues were installed in the park for the day; the one pictured above would be Winston. Usually he is in storage in Poatina, but we dust him off and take him out occasionally. He enjoys the sunshine, but not the pigeons...

I also took part in a wheelbarrow race with a local school principal pushing me. Unfortunately he pushed faster than my hands could go, and I ended up with a teeth full of grass as we crashed out right at the start.

Be that as it may, a good start to the Easter period, and people left with a little bit of the story of Easter to think about in the coming week.

uluru

Just a short up-date. Right after going down south to Hobart for the Easter Awakening, my C4 class and a heap of other younger Tasmanians begin our pilgrimage to the nation's heart, to Uluru. Buses will converge on the Rock from most of the more popular compass points, and we will spend a few days with the Indigenous people of the Centre. They tell me that the Journey is all as much a part of it as the destination. This is a real life changing adventure for lots of people. There are kids from Schools that we are working at that want to come, and all is being done to see that as many as possible can come, but it's an exercise in faith for us all to see where the money will come from! A team is already on their way to set up base camp for us. To follow their travels, have a look at Uluru Journal, in a short time, hundreds of us will join them in the shadow of Ayers Rock, Uluru.

I hope I will get to be re-united with my nice warm sleeping bag in Melbourne on the way through, those central Australian desert nights can get a tad chilly...

Back to the Bubble

I have spoken of the Bubble effect before. I managed to capture this image the other day from the van window. Notice the power station and the lines going up the hill towards town. It takes a lot of power to maintain a bubble of this size, we need a Hydro-Electric Scheme of our own to do it. Can you see the pipeline behind the town, going down the mountain? It supplies water from the Great Lake (up on the Mountain plateau) to keep the Electricity happening. Very clever engineering. And so our venerable village on our holy hill radiates the glory of God to the surrounding countryside. Actually the source of power here comes from a far higher source than the Hydro Commission...

hear the art on heart fm

Tune in tonight to hear the Biz, Loz and Honza show on Captain Midnight on 95.7 heart fm. Here's Biz and Loz in action in the studio. The captain is probably off flying around the broadcast area in his Sopwith Camel or re-arranging his collection of art deco and Memphis design furniture. He doesn't get on the radio much, but he watches what goes on, and keeps us all in line. And you can drop us a line and get your request played between 9 and 12 tonight. The number is 1300 um... 6? 72... 9? um... I'll get back to you. Leave a message...



hear the art heart hearthearthearthearth earth earth eartheartheartheart hear the art....

Living in 'the Bubble'

One of my classmates tells me that living in Poatina is like living in a bubble. Sometimes, when the light is just right, you can even see the bubble shimmer as you approach town. It's a unique place, unlike any other town in the area, a place of safety and refuge for some, a bit too isolated for others.

Well, it IS a bit of a drive to a supermarket, and mail doesn't seem to find it's way here. The road doesn't even go through the town, you have to take a turn-off. The streets are safe for young people to walk on, or ride their scooters. Some of them here even ride unicycles to school...

Just in the last week they have put speed bumps all around the town, not so much to slow the traffic down, as to give the unicyclists more of a challenge! I'm a bit worried about the lack of street sense of the younger children when they leave the bubble. They've never really had to worry about watching for traffic as they play on the road.

One thing that sets Poatina apart is the 'Book of Norms'. It's a bit like Leviticus, but with less animal sacrifice. By following the guidelines set out therein, it makes this level of community life possible. Some of the norms take a little getting used to, but by setting up clear boundaries, everyone knows where they stand, and the vulnerable are protected. It's an interesting paradox that people are more free when they know where the boundaries are.

By the way, if you click on the pictures, you can see them at a bigger size, if you want!