Terrifying icecreams

I recently realised there's a connection between a few different things I struggle with - phonecalls and beggars/sellers/performers in the street. It's that I'm here - or there - in my own little introverted space and suddenly someone's before me, expecting a response (or when I'm the one making the phonecall, I imagine myself doing this to someone else). And they're a person and as such it's automatically intense and complicated, even when it's so seemingly simple (buy an icecream, dammit! walk over and give them a muesli bar! answer the phone!). They're a person and I wasn't ready for it and now there's no time to prepare... and I seriously freak out inside of me. It's not like I'm thinking anything particularly negative, it's more of an emotional thing. It did get a little easier with the elderly man who begged by my old train station because I knew he might be there and got to know him a little, and it's a little easier if the phone tells me it's someone I know. But basically it's a struggle and I have to make myself pick up the phone because I know it's really socially important, and now I'm living in the city and there are lots of beggars I haven't worked out what to do but I know I have to figure something out.

Which made me think - some of this stuff in life is just a battle, that's just what it is. Like a natural pessimist having to remember to be thankful. But you need to do the best you can with the hand you've been dealt, and sometimes it's important to fight. The other person may not know what it cost you to have the courage to call and invite them over, but the relationship is more important than your comfort zone and God knows. So I never want to give up the fight, though of course it's also not a fight I want to wage alone - when this stuff comes up I always want to thrown myself at God's feet, begging for help, before I take that first terrifying step.

All creatures look to you

Sorry for the rather prolonged hiatus. I might just be back on track now but I'm not quite ready to promise. I've been flat out sorting out my new flat (!) and getting unreasonably stressed and everything, which meant I had no energy to write, or think. But here's something that came to my attention a while back...

I'm not exactly sure why - maybe because of the Catholic focus on praying to Mary/God for physical blessings, or because in very recent history Chile was a poor country and much of it still is, or because the eclipsing glories of the Gospel aren't well taught - but for whatever reason, people are much more inclined here to give thanks and pray for safety, food, health, those sort of things. It's what most people seem to pray for, most of the time.

It makes me worried about what Christians will do when the hard times come, as Jesus promised they would. I worry that this focus on the here-and-now will make them forget that God is bringing about bigger plans, yet more beautiful things, and they will find themselves unable to trust him when their personal troubles crowd in. I think this is something that my church back home does a good job of preparing its people for. And yet it's not all bad here. Chileans tend to have a fervent belief in God's ability to control life's details and a lovely dependence on him, and that's not nothing, not nothing at all. 

Señores de sus tierras

I'm learning about the 'discovery' and conquest of the Americas in a class I'm taking at the Centro de Estudios Pastorales (the Anglican Bible college here). Came across this quote in some reading I had to do. Two hundred years before Australia was settled by white people and declared an 'empty land', a Dominican monk made public the truth that was apparently as obvious to folks like him back then as it is to us today. And yet history tells us that he was heard in neither America nor Australia.

 The point of departure . . . is whether the Indians were true masters of their possessions and institutions before the arrival of the Spanish. That is to say, if the Indians didn't have a legitimate right over their lands, the Spanish could take them without asking. To this Vitoria [Franciso de Vitoria, a Dominican monk] responds that the Indians certainly were legitimate masters. Neither mortal sin, nor idolatry, nor the supposed lack of mental capacity are sufficient to negate right of possession . . . . the right of discovery, is also illegitimate, such that if the Indians were true masters of their lands . . . those territories weren't there waiting to be discovered, as if we were talking about a deserted island.1

This second quote makes me think about what we might be overlooking today...

The great tragedy of the conquest wasn't that a crowd of heartless Spanairds spilled over the American continent, but that those who arrived in these lands were sincere Christians who in spite of this did not appear capable of seeing the relationship between their faith and that which was happening in their days. This is true, not only of Colombus and many descubridores, but also of the conquistadores like Cortés and Pizarro, who saw their business as a great service dedicated to the preaching of the gospel. And so the tragedy was that with all sincerity and in the name of Christ the most horrendous crimes were commited.1

1 J González, Historia del Cristianismo, Tomo II (Colombia: Unilit, 1994, translation mine)

The Holy Spirit

A friend (who are recently had his first experience of speaking-in-tongues) asked me the other day if I'd had experience of the Holy Spirit. He wasn't meaning something spectacular, just anything. Now I don't usually turn my mind to God the Spirit, and I think that's as it should be (see for example, John 14:26), but it was an easy question to say YES to. I love the Holy Spirit, and am very aware that it's only through his power that I can do anything good. Every time I pray, every time my actions and feelings are better than they normally would be, it's him. Praise be to God, Father, Son and Spirit!

Perdonado y amado

I worked out what was missing from all my other attempts to describe my ministry here - heart. And if this would be a problem in Australia, it's way more so in Chile where everyone's emotionally aware and any talk of feelings really resonates. So I stopped trying to capture everything precisely and got talking about my passions.

So here we have it - my 'Vision Statement':

As they read the Bible, I want women to get to know their God, and learn what it means to live as people who have been forgiven much and are much loved. 

And the Spanish version: Quiero que las mujeres conozcan a su Dios mientras estudien la Biblia, y aprendan lo que significa vivir como gente que ha sido perdonado y amado en gran manera por él.

How to talk with each other

This is just as good as dialogues get. There's deep, deep, wide-ranging thought and gracious, open, lucid discussion. I can't bear to pick one bit to quote because the standard of what is said is so unfailingly high. And, interestingly enough, another student from my poetry course suggested it to me - thanks!

Lines for an abortionist's office

                                                      **warning: long post ahead**

I'm in the middle of an online poetry course and we began this week considering Ruth Lechlitner's "Lines for an Abortionist's Office". In our online discussion forums, one of my fellow-students wrote:

This poem is so relevant for today, when "state"s are trying to pass "personhood" laws, granting a zygote the full protections of the law, while ignoring the woman who has just conceived. I know a woman who had a second trimester abortion, due to significant chromosomal abnormalities of her (wanted) baby. At the time (I've not verified this recently), there were no instances of these infants surviving the first year. Most died in utero, some were stillborn, but a few did survive the birth. When I talk of this case to anti-abortion advocates, I always ask them to give me a reason why the State has any compelling interest to force my friend to continue her pregnancy -- and to leave any mention of God out of the discussion, as Freedom of Religion is a cardinal concept in the USA. Never have I received an answer that doesn't fall back on "God's Will" or some variation thereof. Personally, I find it sad and ironic that an issue of the 30's still resonates today, some 80 years later. The arguments haven't changed -- only the degree of fetal viability at earlier and earlier gestational states. I would never insist that any woman have an abortion, no matter the circumstances. But neither would I stand in the way of any woman who has made such a difficult decision. 

And so our short exchange began. I've reproduced it here (in full and with my correspondent's permission) in the hope that it might be something of a helpful model for anyone who struggles with what to say about such delicate, heated topics.

Me: I'll have a go. I don't want to talk about your friend, so but I think it's helpful to think about such a terrible situation as this. So let's make up someone else who let's say didn't find out about their baby's significant chromosomal abnormalities. So they had the baby and now it's an infant of seven months. Let's say it's a boy and its name is Mike. I guess he has severe disabilities and may also be very sick and having to spend time in hospital. So my question is: in these circumstances, would it be okay for her to take him to a clinic to be killed?

For me, my answer to that question will always be the same as my answer to your question above ("I always ask them to give me a reason why the State has any compelling interest to force my friend to continue her pregnancy"). This is because I think that the fetus is just a very new baby - far less developed than a newborn baby of course, but then a newborn's far less developed than a five-year-old (etc etc). This all comes home to me when I see friends doing things like posting ultrasound photos of their fetuses on facebook, giving them names, and stopping drinking alcohol.

Of course, the situation imagined above isn't that of all women who have an abortion. As far as I'm aware, most women abort a fetus that is without disability, so my question becomes: would you take your healthy seven-month-old to a clinic to be killed?

My questions may seem unnecessary shocking, but my goal isn't to shock - rather, this is honestly how I see this issue and I don't think the discussion goes anywhere much without getting to the heart of it.

My correspondent: Thank you for your well thought out and cogent response, Fiona. I appreciate your point of view, but I think you underestimated the problems of THIS pregnancy. The child, had it survived birth, would never have left the hospital. It would have been on life support (respirator, tube feeding, dialysis, etc.) until death. And yes, it would have died. Would you go to extraordinary lengths to keep that little "Mike" alive? Or would you have allowed him to die? Bear in mind that respirators, dialysis, etc. can be very painful. Would it have been possible for you to choose to not intervene and let nature take its course?

My friend had limited financial resources, and no family nearby. She also had a small child at home. She and her husband worked long hours to provide for their little family. For that family, abortion was the option that made the most sense, even though it was a very difficult decision. Had their life circumstances been different, then their decision might have changed. Or not; who's to know? So if this situation happened to you or someone close to you (and I sincerely hope it never happens to another family, anywhere at any time), and you had the resources to cope with the stresses and chose to continue the pregnancy, I would fully support you. I would NEVER say you "should" have had an abortion. Abortion is an extremely personal decision.

When it comes to first-trimester abortions, it is often too soon to know whether a fetus is healthy. When it comes to second-trimester, though, I would strongly disagree with your assertion. When my friend had to travel a distance away to obtain a legal abortion, there were obviously other women having the same procedure. Why were they there? One had a heart condition that was worsening; her doctors thought she wouldn't survive. One was 13 years old and didn't know she was pregnant earlier. Of all the women there, not a single one was someone who waited, who couldn't make a decision earlier, or was callous enough to wait to feel a viable fetus before aborting. For each, it was a difficult decision.

I understand that abortion would not be an option for you, under any circumstances, and that's fine. I just don't feel that you, or anyone else, has the right to make that decision for me.

I thank you for your response and willingness to discuss this issue, in light of this poem.

Me: Thanks for your measured response - nice to be able to actually discuss such a heated topic. I'll make my reply and then bow out (well unless an extremely good reason comes up).

I was trying to create a made-up situation so as not to talk about your friends, but thank you for showing me how awful the reality was. I can't imagine what that would have been like for them. I have friends who had a fetus with similar problems. They chose to continue the pregnancy and the little girl (I can't remember her name) died a few days after she was born. I can't imagine how terrible that path would have been either.

However, even though we've clarified the situation, we are talking past each other!! So let's make Mike four days old now, with severe disabilities and very sick and in hospital :(. If he is going to die naturally :( then I see absolutely no reason for any sort of heavy-handed medical intervention - it would be better to allow him to die. But abortion is very different to this. So I return to my original question: In these circumstances, would it be okay for his Mum to take him to a clinic (or in this case, ask the doctors of the hospital) to have him killed?

And are there boundaries? What about a healthy four-day-old? (In Australia, around one in four pregnancies are terminated, so I'm assuming the majority of these fetuses would have been healthy.)

And if your answer to one or both questions is, no it wouldn't be okay, then my next question is: What's different about this same child when it was, I dunno, ten weeks old inside its mother's uterus? What is the difference that would make it okay to kill the child at ten weeks inside, but not at four days outside? Sure, it can't survive by itself, but neither can a newborn, or a two-year-old for that matter.

Okay that's me. I thank you again for your willingness to explore this issue. I really mean it! :)

My correspondent: Fiona -- who would have ever thought that a poetry course would be a medium for discussing abortion politics? Surely, not me. I think the basic difference in our perceptions is one of potential. I think you see (and I could be way off base, and shouldn't assume, but I'm doing so based upon what you wrote above) that every fertilized egg is a person, and we should all celebrate the potential that is inherent. Accurate? Whereas I see a collection of cells that does not yet qualify as completely human. If the pregnancy continues, then yes a human will result. But I have seen studies that show that Mother Nature is the biggest abortionist of all -- that up to 60% of fertilized ova never go on to a positive result -- that of a newborn baby.

Here in the US, there are those who feel that birth control that might prevent implantation is equal to abortion, even though medically, a pregnancy does not exist until implantation. They are thus, against hormonal contraceptives -- the most effective form of contraception. What it all seems to boil down to is that a fertilized egg is more important than the woman who carries it. This is a position I simply cannot accept. Before fetal viability, I believe that the mother is the ultimate decision maker about what happens to and in her body, and that no one (save maybe a fetus' father, depending upon the circumstances) has any right to tell her what she must do. No one else knows the circumstances; no one else knows her anguish. Faced with the choice of a potential human or a definitive human, I'll go with the definitive woman every time.

Does this mean there are some women who will abort for selfish reasons? Yes. Do I decry their choice? Yes. I will, however, defend their right to make that choice. To say that abortion should be illegal because of a percentage of selfish women is to deny a necessary medical procedure for others. I have known many women who have had abortions. Most experienced contraceptive failure. They thought long and hard about their decision. They weighed their options, looked at their life situations, and made a difficult choice. In my life, I have only known one woman who refused to use contraception, using abortion as her form of birth control. I consider her acts reprehensible, but feel this is the price we must pay, as a society, to ensure that millions of other women have choices.

And no, I didn't forget about 4 day old Mike above. While no one would take a 4 day old child to a clinic to be "killed," to think that doesn't actually happen is probably wishful thinking. I believe that physicians assist with patients' deaths all the time, but dare not admit it. Who is to say that the "overdose" of morphine in a terminally ill cancer patient was accidental, especially if death is imminent anyway? If I was suffering, nearing certain death, I believe that I'd rather die a few days earlier, more comfortably, with a modicum of dignity, than hang on for that extra week, in agony, putting my loved ones through a tremendous amount of suffering. In a way, both these circumstances (abortion and euthanasia) boil down to the autonomy of the individual. A woman bears the responsibility and choice in pregnancy. I think that the sick and suffering also have a choice.

Believe it or not, I've enjoyed these discussions. It's difficult to have much sharing of ideas with many on "the other side" (whichever side that may be). Such strong opinions and emotions tend to make one less civil and to me, THAT's the real downfall of society. So thank you very much, Fiona. Even with our differing opinions, I think we could be friends -- if we didn't live half a world apart. Take care.

Me: I did say I was only going to chime back in if an extremely good reason came up... well this will have to suffice! Just wanted to return thanks to you too for your graciousness (and for answering my questions) :). God bless, Fiona

My correspondent: Just a last thought, Fiona. I don't know if you're familiar with the works of Arlo Guthrie, songwriter/folksinger and son of Woody Guthrie. Arlo is famously liberal and proud of it. In a concert, he said that he'd made some "friends he didn't expect to make." That it was more important that someone cares, whether on "either side of any issue." Our discussion has brought that point home to me in a way I've never felt before. There's nothing wrong with agreeing to disagree, and to do so respectfully is a sign of great caring and willingness to learn what the "other side" is all about. Thank you for that.

Time, planning, intensity, exuberance

There are a few ways in which I feel more at home here in Chile than I do in Australia. Let's begin with time and planning. So far the flexible approach to these things is making sense to me. (We'll have to wait and see if I do an about-face once I start being responsible for things about which I care.) Now, generally speaking, I'm a very organised person, yet there's a complexity, messiness and unpredicability to life that gets in the way of attempts to be punctual or efficient. And it can just be stressful trying to push on through as if these extraneous things weren't there.

Despite my organisation, punctuality is something that doesn't come easy to me. The only way I can manage it is to make myself very focused on the task ahead. So even if some of what I have to do is having coffee with other people, life ends up feeling like a string of tasks. But in Chile, I'm free of that and able to focus on whatever's at hand, or simply be. So if I'm pfaffing around getting things done or misjudging how long it will take me to get ready or make it there, it's okay. Well, not always - there are some situations and some people who will care, but, generally speaking, lateness isn't even something you need to apologise for.

Chilean life also allows me to be a bit hopeless (or introverted). If I haven't got on top of my emails, or am having trouble deciding if I'll go to an event, or I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed by people and things, I can just do the Chilean thing and let it slide. Not reply to the email and not show. Of course it's not Chilean - or Christian - to be doing this all the time (well perhaps for some Chileans it is :P), but it's fine every now and then. That's just how things roll and no-one takes it personal. Things don't get thought of, mapped out and nailed down in advance. It's the reason why the morning of any appointment, one of the parties will get in touch with the other person to check it's still going ahead, and why it's no big deal if they say they can't make it any more. And the beautiful thing is that there is a way of doing this without damaging relationships - you just be warm and welcoming when next you see them. That way both parties know there was no offence. Again this flexibility stops me seeing people-related tasks as duties. The appointments are changeable, but the relationships remain constant.

There's a third way in which I feel more at home here, and it has to do with intensity and exuberance. I'll start with the second one, because that's the way relationships usually go. Chileans are expressive and warm - greeting someone or sending them an email are occasions of enthusiasm and affection. This comes pretty natural to me, but because it's not a particularly Australian trait I'm 'forced' to reign it in there. But here I can 'be myself' - I can even be a bit over-the-top sometimes and people (I think) just see it as a sign that I care. And then, when you get talking about something, especially something personal or political, it's completely normal to be intense. (You also don't have to shut up anytime soon: it's okay to talk your listeners through every detail... sometimes this gets a bit much!). People don't get weirded out by your intensity or take offence at your strong opinions - they know you're just being honest. Folks know all about emotions - indeed they are something of the currency of life here.

Opening the book

Our Bible understanding starts to go astray when we open the book looking for what God is saying to us. We read John 15:11, "I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete", and see that it talks about joy, so we turn to other passages that pick up this theme and conclude by exhorting our brothers and sisters to be involved in each others' lives, sharing one anothers' joys and sorrows. This is true and good but not exactly what the verse from John 15 is about, beginning as it does with: "I have told you this so that...". Clearly it must have something to do with what John has said just before - "If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father's commands and remain in his love". It's through obeying Jesus' commands that we will remain in his love and realise the joy spoken of in verse 11. Of course, many of these commands have to do with community, and yet community is not the focus here - obedience is, or love, or joy, or the Son's relationship with the Father, or all of these things.

If we never stop and wait to hear what a part of the Bible actually says, then it is all too easy to only ever pick up the themes that interest us, those topics we already understand. God's Word is for his people, it always has relevance for our everyday lives, but that doesn't mean it's always about us - sometimes it's just about him and that is exactly what we need to hear.

One story

I know I've been going a bit LinK-CRaZy of late. I don't this blog to be like that, but it's just that lately I've come across some cool stuff. I'll get back to my usual ponderings soon. But for now, here's an interview with Mikey Lynch, my dear mate and one-time pastor and MTS trainer. God has done big things in his life - he's a great guy with a lot to offer the Christian, and atheist, community. He writes a blog too.

Homosexuality

Nathan Campbell of St. Eutychus has been posting all sorts of helpful comments and links about homosexuality and the same-sex marriage debate, so I thought I'd share some of them with you (along with the link from the other day).

This first one is another, this time more detailed, outline of the Christian approach to homosexuality. 

And here are two personal testimonies (one and two) about living with same-sex attraction written by a couple of mature Christian men. And, finally, Nathan's response to these testimonies.

Sweat the big stuff

I sometimes really care if things are true - like, for example, the number of words in Spanish versus English; of which English - a quick google search tells me - has double. I get all riled up inside if someone gets this wrong. Patently, I need to get over myself. I do not want my concern for biblical truth to come from the same place as my concern for the counting of words. I do not want to be the sort of person who is thingy about orthodoxy simply because it is correct, like some sort of primary school teacher for the world.

Yet in some ways I want to be even more thingy about biblical truth, because it matters far, far (far, far, far, far, far) more. But there's the rub - I want my reaction to be based on its import. I want my head and heart and all parts to be troubled when something so important is got wrong; rather than that mean-spirited, peering, list-keeping part of me (where is that part?) that cares so much about the unimportant stuff. I want there to be love bound up in it all. I want my reaction to consider where the other person's at and what would be helpful for them right now... all of that.

All of Rockhampton needs Jesus

Another great link - this time to a Letter to the Editor about the place for homosexuals in the church.


... oh and in case you're wondering, I had a fantastic time down south. You can see the photos (which I'm super happy with) over on my other blog (just look for the heading fotos del sur).

The eternal

Illuminating and helpful article about sexuality, what it points to and what this means for people, married and single.

Los lagos

I won't be posting for a couple of weeks because I'm heading down south for a holiday! This is what it looks like there :).

Public theology

I can't normally watch Q&A because the party-line politicians drive me out of my mind. But yesterday the internets were buzzing about Peter Jensen's appearance, so I had to take a look. (And on a sidenote, while I can't access iView here, it seems that if I go to the individual page for a program I can watch the episodes just fine. Hoorah!) It was heart-warmingly good. I could employ a mountain of adjectives but better for you to just watch the episode if you haven't yet. (Peter's bit is from 27 minutes in until the end.)

Anyway as a follow-up another Jensen asked on facebook: "OK, now for the hard and honest self-examination part: what does QandA tell us about public theology?" I like what I had to say, so I thought I'd repeat it here!

What Q&A definitely tells us about public theology is that:

• we should free up the very gifted for these roles (although that is problematic because these folk often make very good pastors & preachers as well...).

• we should never look to audience response to gauge how well we did - we can be as intelligent, calm and caring as PFJ and still have people up in arms and assuming the worst.

• and yet there is perhaps merit in finding a fairminded thinking person who disagrees with us (like the lady immediately to the right of Tony Jones) and asking for feedback. I say this because I'm thinking of how poorly the Christian lady on the panel came across. It's not enough to have faith - you also need to understand the people you are speaking to.

• we should seek to understand where people are at and of course aim to speak plainly and clearly, but that at the same time as this, we should speak to the dignified part of people, speaking respectfully, assuming that amidst all the hostility and blinded thinking something of the knowledge of God remains and may recognise truth when it is spoken. So: speak intelligently, gladly and hopefully, knowing that these words of God are good words.

• it is possible to use Christian language and concepts in secular public discourse, as long as you make it comprehensible and all your other language is directly engaging with the culture-at-large. So: PFJ's mention of men and women being valuable because both are made "in the image of God" and that a husband's role should mimic Christ's of "laying down his life". While people unfamiliar with the Bible may not have completely understood these ideas, they showed that Christianity is more than just another philosophy of how to life well, that the presence of God brings profound realities. Normally Christians either avoid this explicit language or use it without taking the time to understand the culture (and so it's no more than a jarring insert).

• it is possible to mention the Gospel in public discourse - with careful planning (the question about men and women's roles in marriage) and jumping on opportunities (the critique that Christians should be more into equality).

• to ensure that these public opportunities have maximum benefit going forward, it is also good to aim for more process/systematic/meta things as well as conveying actual content - like "I want this to be the sort of thing that can be discussed openly", "I want us to have a respectful and serious discussion". 

What I *hope* we find that it tells us is that a kind, true and winsome word may be the thing that tips someone over into going to church.

Environmental friction

Great post about 'environmental friction', something that has been a factor in my life (in all of our lives!) without me always having the words for it.

What he should have said

I don't know if you heard about this US congressman's idiotic, harmful comments about abortion following a rape. Well here is The Gospel Coalition's Trevin Wax with the much improved 'What Todd Akin Should Have Said About Abortion and Rape'. And while we're talking about the humanity of the unborn, here is a telling quote:

He [President Obama] says abortion is a “heart-wrenching decision” and we should seek to reduce it.
But why is it heart-wrenching? And why seek to reduce it? If elective abortion does not take the life of a defenseless human being, why worry about the number of abortions each year? from here

Both things

The thing I find the most confronting about my faith is that God has not chosen to save all people. I praise him for his impartiality - that any person can be chosen, not only the middle-class, white, educated man or whatever other group is favoured in society. Crims and people with ugly disabilities and streetwomen and diseased African families living on rubbish dumps and young men dying of AIDS and people like me. There's no yardstick, because Jesus did it all. I praise him for this. But I don't understand why he didn't chose to have mercy on us all. I don't think it's injust of him, in no way do I think that - even saving just one single person would be an act of astonishingly unmerited mercy. My struggle isn't to do with injustice, it's rather that I feel like, if I were in his place I would be more merciful and more generous (which no doubt stems from a staggering lack of self-awareness). All this is in one sense made easier by the words of Romans 9 - because it teaches me what is true and right and what I'm to hold onto even in my non-understanding. But Romans 9 is hard too, because it's so blunt, so humbling.

What then shall we say? Is God unjust? Not at all! For he says to Moses,

“I will have mercy on whom I have mercy,
    and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion.”

It does not, therefore, depend on human desire or effort, but on God’s mercy. For Scripture says to Pharaoh: “I raised you up for this very purpose, that I might display my power in you and that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth.” Therefore God has mercy on whom he wants to have mercy, and he hardens whom he wants to harden. (verses 14-18)

But the apostle Paul writes this knowing his Old Testament very well. He knows what is said in Exodus about Pharaoh - ten times God is described as hardening Pharaoh's heart and ten times Pharaoh is said to harden his own heart. It was both things and still is today. God is sovereign and people do what they want to do and are responsible for it. The Bible nowhere explains how both things can be true, but shows clearly that they are. And this authority of God is not some small thing, some minor part of his character, but fundamental to who he is. Before his words to Moses quoted in the passage above, he said "I will proclaim my name, the LORD, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I have mercy (etc)". I still don't understand it but I'm happy that it's complicated and I bow before my God who died for me. There is none else who should have this authority.


H/T Kirk

Apprentices and tea

We really are social beings, mirroring what the others do. Of course it's a blessing and an evil. In Australia, my introverted nature made it really hard for me to include a protégé in my ministry or to invite friends over for dinner. But now that I'm surrounded by a culture where everyone does things in the company of others and when hospitality is a key part of friendships, it all feels a lot more natural and easy. I'm still me, but I'm the Chilean me. It's like the same parts are all still there, but in a slightly different shape - like one of those crazy mirrors, except I don't look like a hideously ugly alien.

Broken record

I am here for a time. Maybe my whole life, but that is still a time. I want to make some sort of mark, and, God willing, it will be greater than my small talents. Because this is not my country and I have come here specifically to help, I am already aware of my legacy. More than anything, I want to be known as someone who loves, of course. But there are other things I want to be known for, things belonging more narrowly to teaching. Let me try and work them out.

"What does God say about... ?" (to encourage people to open up the Bible when they have issues or questions)

"What type of writing is this?" (when reading the Bible: to help people consider the literary genres of the Bible and the effect they have on any one point)

"Imagine you were one of the first people to hear this story/letter/prophecy - what would you tell your friend it was about?" (when reading the Bible: to help people work out the main point of what's written)

"Where are we in God's story?" (when reading the Bible: to help people consider the whole story of the Bible and the effect that has on any one point)

"How does the cross affect... ?" (to encourage people to think about the everything-altering effects of the cross, the climax of the whole story of the Bible)

"How does this help us live today?" (when reading the Bible: to help people harmonise the original message in its time, with our time after the cross and before heaven, and keeping in mind a) that the Bible is always helpful, even when it is condeming sin, and b) that sometimes it simply tells us something more about our God rather than commanding specific action)

The ones in bold are of first importance I think.

Real and good

Cristo Redentor's home groups have been taking a look at various aspects of evangelism in preparation for Club Preguntas. We considered Acts 4 the other day, and when we got to verse 3 were asked what is off-putting or repulsive about the message of Jesus today. We came up with five things that I think are true of both Australia and Chile. In no particular order then, the Gospel says:

1. you have to be accountable for your actions;
2. you are a sinner, a bad person at heart;
3. you have to hand over control of your life;
4. you have to place your trust in things you can't see and touch - God and a 2000 year-old story;
5. you have to agree that other paths do not lead to God.

No wonder it's a miracle when any person comes to Christ. Before I became a Christian I hated these things, even when I thought they might be true. What I didn't see then was that life is better if it accords with reality - and, when I'm most honest with myself, I know the ugliness of my thoughts and motives, and even sometimes my actions. Pretending this isn't real and getting indignant about it doesn't do a thing to help it.

The other thing I didn't see was that this God came to earth as a real man; was murdered by men and punished by his Father in our stead, such was the love he had for us; after his rescurrection, had a guy called Thomas jab his finger in the nail-holes so that he might believe and trust - and that all the other religions call for us to do something and leave us uncertain about the outcome. Life is better if you are reconciled to your kind, tender, wise and powerful King and Dad and he is looking out for you.

The Lord of their lives

Paul Hiebert makes the following very helpful points about how to understand a person's conversion and new life in Christ. The only thing I would want to add (and he may well have addressed this elsewhere in the book - I only read part of it), is that the information the person understands and believes about Jesus from the outset needs to be true - so that it really is Jesus Christ he is following and not some crazy teacher's idea of him.

Who is a Christian? It is a person who believes certain things (orthodoxy) or lives a certain lifestyle (orthopraxy) . . . . In the Bible the fundamental categories are relational. A person is a person because she is a mother, sister, wife, and friend. A Christian is a person who is a follower of Jesus Christ as her Lord and Savior . . . . The test is not what they believe or do but who is the Lord of their lives. New believers often know little about Christ, but they are seeking him. So-called old believers may make Christ a part of their lives but live mostly for themselves.1

Conversion then is a point - a turning around. This turning may involve a minimal amount of information regarding Christ, but it does involve a change in relationship to him - a commitment to follow him, however little we know of him, to learn more and to obey him as we understand his voice. But conversion is also a process - a series of decisions that grow out of this initial turning. Viewed in this way, Papayya can become a Christian after hearing the gospel once, but those who lead him to Christ have a great responsibility to disciple him, to root him solidly in his new faith.2

Justification and sanctification "are part of the same process - turning around and following Christ as the Lord of our lives."3

Hiebert also explores how the use of rituals can help us be more clear about conversion, as well as helping us throughout our spiritual life. Again I have a couple of things to add. The first is that you want to make sure that your service isn't so ritual-heavy or the rituals aren't so bizarre that a non-believing visitor feels alienated, bewildered or disgusted. Second, you also need to work hard to show how this religious part of life intersects with ordinary everyday life, where there is nothing of this.

In rituals we bracket ordinary signs in ritual format to show that we are speaking of extraordinary realities. By singing or chanting ordinary words, we raise the level of their significance and enable them to integrate beliefs, feelings, and moral commitments. We put on special clothes and go to special places at special times. We bow our heads, kneel, or raise our hands and say, "Our Father . . ." and "Amen" to show that we are talking to God, not to one another about him.4

Our Western antiritual stance is reflected by our attitude to Sunday morning services. We say, "I go to church in order to worship." Worship is what we get out of the service. If we do not "feel" like we have worshiped, we call the service a dead ritual. People with a high view of ritual, as is true in many cultures around the world, say, "In going to church I am worshiping." . . . .  

We must ask, has our modern view and practice of conversion become truncated and weak in part because we have no real rituals by which we can express the realities of life meaningfully to ourselves and to the world around us? With no clear living ritual, religious conversion becomes simply another ordinary decision, like the many other decisions we make every day. There is nothing to mark its life-transforming nature . . . .

In much of the world, decisions, especially religious conversions, are public affairs and must be marked by signs that both perform and communicate. That is why baptism, not an inner personal affirmation of faith, is often the crucial issue in mission churches. People may express a personal faith in Christ and remain in the community, but when they are baptized, they are excommunicated from their old group.5

1 PG Hiebert, Transforming Worldviews: An Anthropological Understanding of How People Change (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2008), 282.
2 Ibid, 311.
3 Ibid, 326.
4 Ibid, 322. 
5 Ibid, 323.

A faithful life

I think I'm going through what I've heard about from many friends who are Mums - a special sort of guilt and sorrow from not being able to serve the people around you as a 'normal person' might. While I understood what my friends were saying, I never really got how it felt - and I'm surprised at how difficult it is. I'm a loyal, hard-working type so I always want to be pitching in, being a really involved part of the church, using every gift I've got. But right now I just can't. I can understand most things and can be a successful part of even a long conversation if the other person takes the lead, but I can't initiate and I can't speak with any nuance. So I can't get going on making friends and discipling people. I have to wait.

I see things that I could be doing all around me, people I could be caring for and teaching, and it pains me that I can't do that for them. And all these unanswered needs lean on me, staring at me with their puppy-eyes, stressing me out. I don't know why - in the three years of ministry I've done so far I've learned that you can only do what God gives you the ability to do, and it is prideful to assume responsibility for all the rest. So I don't know why I'm forgetting this now, or rather, why it keeps slipping from mind and I need to say it aloud to get it back.

Anyway, in the midst of this smalltime guilt, I met with the woman I am discipling, who's from Australia and is here for a year. We're at similar stages, but instead of focusing on what we can't do (and feeling bad about it not doing it - and then still not doing it - and feeling bad), we thought concretely about what we can do. Are there people at church, locals or foreigners, who speak good English? Yes. Are there Spanish-speakers who don't notice or care if the conversation flounders, or who love to talk? Yes. Well, there we are then, that's what we can be faithful in for now. This has been a help.

A joy

Heading along to church each Sunday shouldn't be a burden; rather it should be a refuge from the world. Come, be reminded of the more important things, spend a little time with your unlikely family, one in heart and mind. I know it's not always like that because sin wipes its dirty hands across everything, but it is a bit, isn't it? Gosh I hope so, and I hope that bit helps you get through the week, not so much in style, but in goodness. If it's not, re-read those stories of what Jesus did on that old time electric chair - that's the remedy to most things. And pray, but like you mean it, because you do. And be willing to change, but then I don't need to be telling you that if you've read the stories.

H/T James

Great replies

What happens to people who have never heard about Jesus?
It's important to say that Jesus himself said, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No-one comes to the Father except through me." (John 14:6). So the question is if people who are isolated or from the East have had the possibility to hear about Jesus, and the answer is that, on many occasions yes, this has happened in surprising ways, through missionaries, or dreams (that have awakened the desire to know the Bible). Today the church in China, a communist country, is where Christianity is growing the most . . .

I believe in God, but I just don't believe in Jesus. 
Ask what their God is like (because if he's not the God who sent Jesus to die for humanity, then he's a different God altogether - distant or cruel).

H/T Juan Esteban & Juan Carlos

Too. Many. Words.

Just had a little brainwave. In theory I'll all fine with Bibles with sections every now-and-then explaining some historical context or suggesting a point of application, but in practice I think they suck. Now I never had one of those Bibles growing up, but I do know that I didn't know what to do with the one I did have, other than to ponder the intriguing line-drawings, and I know that if I had have had one I would have devoured every sectioned word and kept well clear of the actual biblical text. Maybe this isn't so for everyone, so I suppose they might not always suck.

But what to do for someone like me with no idea of how to read the Bible? I think what would really help is to make the format like that of modern literature - and different for each genre. So, lay out the narrative sections as you would a fiction novel, the Psalms and other poems like books of poetry, and the letters like emails perhaps. I think that this would stop the whole thing just being a mass of words and complexity and signal to me what to do with each part. ("Oh look, this must be a story, let's get comfy and dive into that world til I'm done."; "Oh and there are poems - I don't really know what to do with them, but I guess maybe I should read them out loud and slow."; "Ooooh look it's an actual letter from this guy Paul.")

Keep the pattern of sound teaching

 . . . these institutions are founded by a pastor-visionary-entrepreneur. That is, somebody with a real grasp of the Gospel, and who's got entrepreneurial smarts - they know how to get things done, and plant something. So it's driven by a certain Gospel vision. But eventually the thing is successful enough, with enough people, that you've really got to get some good managers involved, and eventually the Board appoints a President who is not a visionary, who is entirely orthodox, but not a visionary, and who really does know the mechanics of administrative leadership and that is perceived to be just what is necessary at this stage in the institution's development, and in some sense that's right.

But when you ask, 'Who is orthodox?', you are always asking that as measured by debates in the past. Orthodoxy is measured according to the debates that have been worked out in times past. Whereas the confrontations that we face today are never exactly the same, such that unless a person is theologically-equipped, biblically-informed, discerning and so on, he or she may really not see today's dangers even though they're entirely orthodox by yesterday's dangers.

So that today for example, in Christian seminaries and Christian colleges, I don't think that there is much chance of a Board coming along and appointing as President somebody who's a flat-out liberal . . . . But does that mean that the contemporary leaders today are well equipped to handle any number of things that are on the agenda today that are argued over . . . And most of them aren't - they're going to appeal to unity . . . . Which means that it becomes institutionally wise to preserve in the top slots, people who are pastorally, theologically driven, and under them hire all the administrative smart people . . . But don't give the top slots to people who are not driven by biblical, theological, discerning comprehension so as to be able to keep the pattern of sound teaching.

from D.A.Carson, "'What is the Ministry and Mission of the Local Church?' Foundations from the Pastoral Epistles" from 40:44

Maximum security

Hanging off the nails rammed through his hands and feet, the women watching from afar, Jesus' closest friend and the only person who understood what was going on, was a death-row crim who had committed such heinous crimes he deserved to die this slow, cruel way. Jesus' twelve protégés deserted him when he needed them most and fled, although Peter turned back and followed him at a distance, only to later baldly deny his master and friend. John must have repented too, for, hours later, we see Jesus speaking to him from the cross.

The disciples are no examples for us here. It's only later after Jesus' resurrection, that they become great men. Our true example and Christian brother is the maximum security crim who looked at the guy hanging next to him, just as hideous and pathetic in his blood and sweat and shit, and asked mercy from the King.

Atrocity

If you grew up going to church like me, you will know well the story of the two days leading up to the moment Jesus died. Because of their familiarity, it takes a special effort to comprehend the seriousness of those days, but even when we manage this I think we miss something still more important. We overlook the evil of those days. Perhaps this is because we have grown accustomed to the mundane evil coursing through each day of our lives. But it wasn't that sort of evil - it was the sort that sees millions of Jews gassed to death, a woman beheaded in front of her two kids in a suburb of Santiago the other day, and a young homosexual guy slowly tortured to death by skinheads who carved swastikas into his flesh. I hope you have no personal knowledge of this sort of evil. The closest I have come is a man on the train in Sydney one day who stared at me from across the carriage with such penetrating malice and brutal arrogance that I knew to get off at the same stop as him would be to invite rape and violence. It was a horrible and eery moment - I could almost see the evil emanating from the heart of him.

We shouldn't read the accounts of Jesus' death lightly - in fact, we should almost be unable to bear reading them at all.

  . . . You handed him over to be killed, and you disowned him before Pilate, though he had decided to let him go. You disowned the Holy and Righteous One and asked that a murderer be released to you. You killed the author of life . . . (Acts 3:13-15)

The known world

It's so hard to move from your childhood reality, from the world as it presented itself to you when you were young. Of course there's always a push upward, but, generally speaking, middle class people stick with middle class people in middle class suburbs, upper class with upper class, and lower class with lower class. Of, even if we are able to make their way up, it's always a little otherworldly there.

The middle class may look different here, but their level of prosperity is familiar to me - having all they need and more, but unable to live in luxury. My sort of people. I admire those missionaries who can go up or down - I would find this very hard, though I do dream of discipling women from all spheres...

Adoption

I am fifteen sixteenths English. On both sides of my family, my forebears came out to Australia after the First Fleet as free-settling farmers. Though in many ways I am wholly Australia, the blood of another land runs in my veins. And though they did not desire it and it was done with violence or the threat of it, the true Australians adopted my people. I am deeply grateful for the privilege of being part of their land. And now, I have landed in another foreign land, expecting its people to adopt me as their own. I look forward to being Chilean, or as nearly as I can.

But I have experienced yet another adoption, even more unlikely and marvelous. I, a Gentile woman, once without God and without hope in the world, have been grafted into the people of God. Their stories, their ancestors, their GOD, have become mine, and all for repenting and believing in the Messiah Jesus. Such a simple act has brought me so much. And one day all of us will live together in heaven in our complexity and harmony, at home.

The Way of the Evangelist

Now for the way of the evangelist, which is of course the precious path to the Gospel of life.

I hear what you're saying about "x", and as much as I want to show I'm listening to where you're at and bring the light of truth to bear upon that specific point, I want, not to ignore what you say, but to really get to the heart of it. I want to tell you about what Jesus thought of "x" and what he did about it so that you could know true peace/forgiveness/healing/the beautiful, rich life you were designed for...

The Way of the Apologist

I have lamented previously about my tendency to answer questions or address comments very precisely (the way of the teacher, perhaps). Unlike some people, I can't just give a nod to the issue at hand and pass onto a larger or more important response. But maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to if I can convince myself that this is actually addressing the question in a more exact, more profound way. Let's give it a go, two ways. The first is the way of the apologist. I think it has wonderful potential for topics about which people would never normally in a million years listen to the Christian perspective - topics like homosexuality and the fundamental goodness/badness of people. Here goes (and do keep in mind that I wouldn't necessary say it all this way - these words are partly for my own reassurance).

I hear what you're saying about homosexuality being a natural part of the human makeup, and as much as I want to show I'm listening to where you're at and bring the light of truth to bear upon that specific point, I want, not to ignore what you say, but I think that it's actually impossible for my perspective to make any sense unless I can first explain to you who God is to me.

I don't really have words for this, but all I can say is that I truely believe that he is real and he made all that is; that originally he made it all perfect and beautiful and harmonious and enjoyable in every imaginable way; that he is a good God who cares tenderly for each person that walks the earth; he is a God who knows what is best for each person, knows what things are good and bad, right and wrong.

So when I listen to God telling me what to make of people's sexuality, it is this God I'm listening to - not the concept of god or my personal imaginings of who he might be - but this actual, wonderful God...

Boring old Bible

Your statutes are wonderful;
therefore I obey them.
The unfolding of your words gives light;
it gives understanding to the simple.
I open my mouth and pant,
longing for your commands.
Turn to me and have mercy on me,
as you always do to those who love your name.
Direct my footsteps according to your word;
let no sin rule over me.
Redeem me from the oppression of men,
that I may obey your precepts.
Make your face shine upon your servant
and teach me your decrees.
Streams of tears flow from my eyes,
for your law is not obeyed. (Psalm 119:129-36)

Of all the things I might do with my life, I want to help women understand the Bible. I always find it hard to pinpoint why or to explain it in more captivating language. Not until I hear someone (like my pastor) boldly and faithfully proclaim its stories and truths, not until I hear someone get it all wrong, do I even remember the depth of my passion. For I really, really do care about this stuff. I feel so happy and glad when someone speaks truely, and so deeply troubled and disturbed when they get it wrong. I guess it's partly a personality, partly a 'gifting' thing - I'm the type who gets off on thinking and reading, so of course I was always going to appreciate the Bible. But it's a Christian thing too, and something I have grown into. I remember reading Psalm 119 as a newer Christian and it not striking any chords. I wanted it to, but it just didn't yet. But now I read it all and shout amen. So why do I care about this Book?

No doubt a significant reason is that I never knew anything like it before. Well, I always owned a Bible, but it meant nothing to me until I was shown that it might and did. I guess through my life I was looking for knowledge, looking to be streetwise, to live according to what was there, not according to some story, however glad or sad. Perhaps because I've experienced a fair whack of hypocrisy, I've always sought to live truely. For a long while I thought that meant dispensing with a grand narrative and ideas of Good and Bad. So when I became a Christian and realised that God had explained so much to us, I loved it!

For this is how I see the Bible: the very words of God, telling us about himself, the world, the history of man, giving us direction and truth. I still wish to live according to reality, not my foreshortened, culturally palatible version of it. I know my mind is small and I'm culturally-bound, so it's been my desire to submit to God. I haven't always liked every point of his Scripture and oftentimes the words have left me cold, but I was always been sure they were true. And so I prayed hard and worked hard to live that way, to embrace those truths, and they have sustained me.

It's not just that I thought the Bible was true; I have also been pushed along by my desire to live as well as I can in this short life. From the beginning of my new faith, I could see the value of man, I knew that it matters how we live. As the pinnacle of God's creation, we were made to live in righteousness, beauty, truth and great richness, and, when we failed at that, we were redeemed and changed so that we might do it properly. We're not nothing, our actions aren't nothing, this stuff - these decisions we take each day, what goes through our minds, what motivates us - this stuff matters.

But more than anything, I care about God's honour. So I want to know what he has to say to me. I want to live in a way that shows that what he says is true, and good.

Besides, once you have encountered God and started to comprehend that he is GOD, once you have been saved by him and started to understand just what happened, what else is there to do but to give your life over to him, to devote yourself to knowing him and following his ways? How can his Word not be everything to you?

And as I have lived this way, I have never been disappointed. These things that were supposed to be true and dependable have proven so. Sometimes they have been shocking and hard, but they have never failed me. God knows what is real and what is good, for he made it so. He is to be trusted in this. Life lived this way brings great harmony, purpose and security, even in the unhinged, confused times, because true things keep on being true however hollow they sometimes sound. More than this, his Word brings life. The news of Jesus' deeds brings life, abundant and eternal. Such is the value of these words.

Contentment, singleness etc

I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. 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. I can do all this through him who gives me strength. (Paul, Philippians 4:11-13)

We're asked to do all sorts of good things in our Christian lives. Sometimes these things come easily - perhaps God made us a naturally generous person or our family lived that way. But often we have to fight for the good. My guess is that contentment can be one of God's more elusive demands. Of course, I'm thinking here of contentment where your circumstances are not as you would have them, or indeed when things are very bad.

It's not normal to be content when things are bad and you're looking them full in the face. It's found in God and is given by him. And sometimes he teaches you to trust him by witholding the circumstances that could so easily make you happy and sometimes by witholding the happiness itself for a time. He does this, not out of capriciousness or to be cruel, but because there are things that we are slow to learn in the good times, when we can so easily turn our attention elsewhere. Things we can only experience once we really do come to know and trust our God. Things that will bring us great, deep, lasting joy.

So I think that if, unlike our brother Paul, you don't feel content in every situation, then you should fight for it. You should pray sincerely for it and keep on praying til you receive it. You should do what you can to get it - working hard to get to know your Father, reminding yourself of all the compassionate, big-hearted, mighty things God has done for you, including allowing the murder of his Son.

But contentment doesn't mean you have to be pleased with your circumstances. The same man who wrote the lines above also urged slaves not to let their servitude trouble them, but added: "if you can gain your freedom, do so" (1 Corinthians 7:21). So if, say, your heart aches in your singleness, find contentment in God, keep looking out for a man, and don't pretend it doesn't hurt. This is what godliness looks like in this messy time when evil and brokenness have been conquered but not yet purged.

What waits for me

A little poetic, this one.

I stand outside this culture. All goes on without me, as it did before I came, as it has for as long as there have been people here, and before. That first day I spent moving over the globe, the people of Chile went on with their life. Their world continues if I understand it or not. Standing outside of it is like standing outside of the future, eyes straining forward. I can imagine what goes on there; I'm excited by it all. I can picture a beautiful life here, with friends, creativity, great fruitfulness in ministry, even love. As the real world calls to me, so too does this real future world of my own making. It leans back and swings its arm toward me, catching at my heart and hopes, and my heart leaps to see it waiting there. But it taunts me because it isn't real - not yet it isn't, and perhaps it never will be. I need to look to today. Look to today and look to the great Tomorrow, to the Tomorrow that I will walk in as sure I walk today. The Tomorrow that's no mad dream. I need to look to the man who will take me there, the Shepherd who knows how hopeless my heart can be, who'll make sure I get there anyway. This hope, this bright, extravagant, tender thing inside of me, it has a purpose. It has a resting place. Perhaps good things will come to me over these next short years. Surely they will. But they are little outposts of all that will be - that will be. It were better for this poor heart of mine if I looked there. Look there, poor heart of mine! Look there and don't be always looking back and around.
It is too much for me. God give it me.

But as for me, I trust in you. 

- Psalm 55:23

The Foreigner

I've got it just about as good as it can get. I'm not a refugee: I came here of my own free choosing. People don't scorn me: rather, they look up to me, the rich, white, English-speaker. I haven't suffered cultural awkwardness and rejection: I'm surrounded by the loveliest, most welcoming people. I don't get stared at or treated differently: I pass for a Chilean on the street. The culture's not confronting and Other: I think I may even end up feeling more comfortable in this culture than in my own. And I don't find the language alien and veiled: rather, I enjoy it.

But I'm a foreigner still. It's strange to find myself thus. I don't think I'd really twigged that it would be my identity when I stepped off the plane. I find myself in something of a no-man's-land, at once part of things and not. Obviously I'm physically present in all sorts of situations and places, but socially and relationally I'm looking on.

Of course this can happen in your own culture, if you're excluded from a friendship group. Horrible as this experience is, at least at some level you still belong. You know how these groups operate and what people are thinking (that's why it hurts so much); you know how to go about life in your country; and (hopefully) you are part of other relational webs. But as a foreigner, you find yourself, not outside of a particular group, but outside of a whole culture. It's like there's a bubble enclosing all the people of the land except for you. You can see and hear and even communicate with them, but there's much you don't understand and you're not in. Maybe it's a bit how people with Autism and Asperger's feel - although I suppose they don't always realise what they're missing.

I don't really know what point I'm trying to make. I guess I'm hoping to help my dear readers understand - so you can feel sorry for me (!) and be a friend to the foreigners in your life. Don't feel too sorry for me though - I feel very confident that this is just a phase and a short one. I think that God chose very well when he placed me here and I do think that all will be well. I've always been fascinated by 'sense of place', so in a way this experience is a great blessing for me. And I pray it will help me know, love and turn my eyes to the land where one day I will truely be home.

The first will be last

A Chilean friend confessed to me that while she can understand English, she doesn't try to speak it because she feels like English speakers have no sympathy for beginners. It's quite the opposite here - people view your attempts, however hopeless, as a sign of love and respect and will listen with great patience. I'm sure I've said any number of funny things over the last three months, but I've only ever been laughed at once and that was completely fair enough (when asked what sport I like, I said "nacer" instead of "nadar" - "being born" instead of "swimming"). I think there's something about speaking the world's highest-status language that convinces us we're superior. I feel this too - when the people who have been so gracious with me mispronounce English words, I find myself sniggering a little, as if it's funny - and silly - that they didn't know any better. I don't mean to think this way, but I do, and, if English is your first language, then I bet you do too.

Do it and do it now!

One of the Bible's funny ideas is that obedience, submission and self-denial for the sake of a higher power brings joy and fullness, even life. We are more happy if we live with handed-down guidelines and rules than we are with our self-made freedom.

If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father's commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy my be complete. John 15:10-11

If we don't believe this, it is because we only know imperfect, self-serving authorities and we are ignorant of our Creator God's knowledge of us. But he is wise and loving in a way that parents, teachers, politicians and kings never are, and he knows us more intimately than our partners, even than we know ourselves.

Sympathizers

'Club Preguntas' (Question Club) ended last Thursday. This seven-week course was an opportunity for non-believers to ask any questions they had about the Christian faith and to explore a few of our own (Who is Jesus? Was he resurrected or not? What's going on with the world? Why did Jesus have to die? What would it mean to be a disciple? Who will come with me on the journey?). A few people's friends joined us for handfuls of weeks, now and then. (Regular attendance is a bit tricky here.) The ladies there on the final Thursday were both very appreciative of Christianity - feeling a real sense of spiritual connectedness and finding stories of the Bible very beautiful. My pastor ended with this challenge - Jesus has no interest in adherents: he wants disciples, people who will give their lives over to him and, receiving his Spirit, seek to honour him through each part of every day.

Well presented

Hypocrisy makes me mad. So does falsity, that unknown or accidental hypocrisy. I would rather a person humbly express their brokenness than, in their insecurity, present themselves as something other than they are and make me play their twisted game. At first the game looks fine - in fact, it looks like real life, not a game at all. And any sensible, nice, normal person would play along. So it begins, in trust or untrust, letting your guard down or trying to keep it up. And soon you can feel that it's not what they said it was. When they implied that we're equals here or that they cared for you, they lied.

So hypocrisy and falsity make me mad. Sometimes they creep up on me slow and I'm immeshed before I know; other times I can sense it straight away. Everything pushes me to keep playing: terrible anger, biting ridicule or quiet offence wait for those who rebel. I hate this too. So now I'm trapped: they're using me and I'm trapped, and, if I care about them, I'm going to end up hurt, and, if I don't, it reminds me of the other times.

Maturity leaves me and anger holds me in thrall, mind and heart full. I might withdraw in grumpy silence, or perhaps snarky comments will dart out my mouth or I'll lose it altogether. All because they were too insecure to be who they really are... and because I'm so insecure I need their care.

There's no reason for this when I'm a daughter of the Living Almighty God, who died so tenderly for me and walks me through each day. There's no need to shut my eyes to him. If I really am safe in him - and I am - I'm safe even when people play games with me. They've got their own stuff going on. It's wrong of them to use me, but I should feel for them. Instead of playing along, instead of reacting, I should hold my confidence in his love and gently, calmly refuse to take on my role. They won't like it and that's okay. Standing in my Father's love, I can be sincere and kind and grant them the respect they deserve as precious creations of God.

El campo

A North American speaker at a church planting conference the other day began his talk telling us about growing up on his Dad's farm: how hard they would toil to get the seeds planted, how satisfying it was to see the harvest come up in the fall, and how apparent it was that they who planted and watered were nothing compared to the God who made the seeds grow (1 Cor 3:5-9).

Now clearly I don't really know, but I felt like this illustration captured the heart of the Chilean audience. Chile depends on its vast campo, and I get the feeling that part of being Chilean is being of the land (though I don't yet know quite what that conjures). Besides, pretty much everyone I've met here in Santiago grew up in the north or south of the country, so the hearts of many cityfolk are partly back home. I feel like this is something Tasmanians and Australians share. Not so much about farming (which I think we undervalue), but, for us, the wilds of Tasmania or the beauteous strangeness of the outback. These landscapes are ever with us, forcing us to make room for them in our identity, just as they have made room for us.

A table for two

An enchanting post with fantastic photos about the gorgeous, gorgeous gourmet delights of Tasmania - including my mates' café, Yellow Bernard. I haven't enjoyed all the places featured - some are a bit out of my price range - but it's good just knowing they are there, making my island even more beautiful than it was before.

The Lord my Saviour

My church's women's group met again on Saturday to get to know and care for one another a little more and to meditate on "El Señor mi Salvador" (the Lord my Saviour). After hearing a brief talk we were given time to consider: "¿Qué significa para ti que El Señor sea tu Salvador?" (What does it mean for you that the Lord is your Saviour?). It's good to be asked questions that force you to think in a new way.

What Jesus did on the cross was simple. I know it well and can tell it to a child. Yet it was so profound that my mind falters and cannot take it in. With the song, I say "Why should I gain from his reward? I cannot give an answer. But this I know with all my heart: his wounds have paid my ransom."

This too I know: What Jesus did on the cross has given me everything. Without it I would be nothing; with it I have all I need, now and for the future. It has made me who I am today and who I will be tomorrow. If he were not first my Saviour, I could not bring myself to follow him as Lord, nor would I wish to. When I'm confused, guilty or sorrowful, the cross is all that remains and all I need. Everything else may disappoint, but the cross is always true and, because of it, I am kept safe, even when my mind is clouded and I doubt. Without the cross, life is often nonsensical and enigmatic and there is striving and no peace. In the cross rests my security, hope and peace. For when I needed rescuing, he rescued me.

At the end of the day

Back in March, I wrote about standing back a bit in your cross-cultural ministry, to ensure the locals get a chance to do the job. I'd like to add some caveats to that approach. First is that I've been told that, in a relationship-based culture like this, I need to throw myself into church in the first few years. I have to get to know people super-well and go through the highs and lows of life with them if they're ever to really listen to what I have to say.

Later on though, the ideal is still to back off a bit and begin to support wider church structures, rather than fill them yourself. I can see a couple of potential problems with this. The first is that providing an example yourself may in some cultures be the best way of teaching someone how to do a thing. [I think this may have been what Fiona H had in mind in the comments section of my earlier post.] I don't know enough about Chilean culture to know if that is so. The second is about the scope of ministry. The ideal is to become something of a parachurch, supporting a variety of churches at the one time. But perhaps it could work better to invest intensively in a small group of individuals, and when they are ready to stand on their own, to move onto another group. Again, that's one of those things I'm yet to learn.

A phonecall

Iglesia Ñuñoa is starting this lovely thing where each person gets allocated someone else in the church. They ring each other once a week to see how they're going and to pray or help with anything their brother or sister needs. A brilliant way to help a large group of people get to know one another and get involved in each others' lives, especially when those lives are super-busy ones. I'll let you know how it goes.

What I'm doing here Take Three

The sort of thing I talked about in my last post is utterly foreign to most women here. So I've decided to add a bit to my why-I'm-here template to really highlight the relationship aspect and its groundedness in the mighty and living Lord Jesus (equally unknown). It's too long of course.

I think that many women feel that God is distant and they don't know him... Because of this I want to help women understand what the Bible says about all that Jesus did and continues to do for his beloved children to bring them close to God.                                                            [Creo que muchas mujeres sienten que Dios es lejano y no lo conocen... Por eso quiero ayudar a las mujeres a entender lo que la Biblia dice acerca de todos que Jesús hizo y sigue haciendo por sus hijos amados que los acercan a Dios.]

Personal Relationship

As Mikey so helpfully points out, relationship with God isn't everything when you're talking about your faith - you need to first explain why it is you're able to enjoy this intimacy. Okay I've got that, but what do I say next? I really do feel very close to God but how do I describe it in words? I imagine it's a bit like trying to explain your relationship with your spouse - they are everything, they are these concrete things, and they're not. The problem with having a problem with this is that I'm left talking rationally about 'Christianity' or 'my beliefs', which isn't wrong but is inadequate. So here's what my relationship with God means for me right now...

I pray sincerely whenever I need to and I know he hears me and cares.

I'm always thankful for who he is and everything he gives me.

I'm aware that he's watching over me and that he's in charge of the details of my life. I see him ordering small things about for my sake and answering my prayers, but I know this is true even when I can't see concrete examples of his care.

I feel him there with me and I know that, whatever the situation, I'm his daughter.

I work hard to follow him throughout the day and to think his thoughts after him.

As I follow him more closely, lifes works better and I enjoy more peace, satisfaction and joy. I guess I enjoy him more, but I don't really think of it that way - though I do think he's amazing.

I can tell he's changing my heart more and more, so that good things that were once hard for me come much more easy now.

Political involvement

Early this year I spent a bit of time thinking through the mission of the church. Today I turned to Christian involvement in politics, with much help from my fellow-blogger, Nathan (and not a little help from Mark too - see the gigantic comment section beneath this post). I've taken on (and will reproduce) some of what Nathan argues, but not all.


Christians in places like Australia or Chile should get involved in the issues of the day, firstly because we live in a democracy. Our minority status doesn't preclude us from having the right to have our say. And we shouldn't preempt the political process, standing back so that the majority view might come to pass. It's not our job, but the politicians' to represent fairly the views of the electorate. And perhaps the rightness and goodness of God's ways will shine through and be taken up, even though Christians are small in number. But if this doesn't happen, it's not the end of the world. Now is not the age for a perfect society; that time is still to come - at the end of the world.

The second reason we should get our hands dirty is because following God's ways helps societies to flourish. I realise that in a country of people untouched by the Gospel, the Christian ideal will always be imperfectly legislated and lived out, but I still think that the little good that may result is nonetheless good and worth pursuing.


But we need to be very careful about how we come across. Because we love the people around us, we want to see them flourishing not only in this life but in the next as well, so we need to make sure that our political involvement doesn't obscure the path to salvation and true, abundant, eternal life. Our society already thinks that Christian = a good person (/hypocrite) who believes in God. We don't want our campaigning to imply that Christianity is a call for all people to be good, when it is rather the offer of forgiveness and goodness to people who, by themselves, cannot be good.

There are perhaps three ways to avoid this. Firstly, make decisions about right and wrong in accordance with your faith, but don't argue for it in these terms. Stick to humanism, experience, statistics, psychology... Arguing like this will keep you from confusing Christianity with morality. And, because the Christian way is the way of Truth and Goodness, there's every chance that some of this will have seeped through into these manmade disciplines.

Secondly, if your main gig is issues of the day, then be wary of branding yourself 'Christian' or even organising your lobbying in this way. Better for Christians to act as private citizens or to get involved in existing parties, than for the Gospel message to be muddled up with morality.

... Unless, thirdly, you take special care to link issues back to the Gospel. This way, even if you achieve nothing in the present political sphere, people will have heard about the coming of a perfect, heavenly society. And, who knows, because the Gospel speaks truely about and into the human condition, people may feel the weight of your argument even if they don't accept your religion. If a group of Christians were to consistently take this approach, then being branded 'Christian' would be a wonderful thing.

The other thing to keep a weather eye on in any political involvement is religious freedom - of any religion, not Christianity alone (and even sometimes of atheism too). This is why I viewed the introduction of humanist ethics classes in NSW schools as a good thing - so long as it was only one option on offer, along with classes from Christians, Muslims, Buddists and whoever. I don't think we should be fighting for unique Christian privileges in today's society, but rather for freedom of all religions - particularly in the face of supposed 'neutral' secularism. And, if we need to give ground on some moral issue for the sake of religious freedom, then this is what we must do.

This is all well and good - but what does it mean for me? Well it's going to mean different things for different people, depending on the gifts and opportunities that God has given us. Some people have a special interest in and facility for politics. Others will simply be called to vote thoughtfully and speak Christianly about the day's news in the work staffroom. But me? Well all this has made me see that it's good and right that I focus my energies on my Christian ministry, which is the more important thing. But, particularly given the intelligence God has given me, it would also be good for me to have some involvement in the political sphere - especially if I think an issue is unusually good for highlighting the Gospel (say, some issue of justice, vengeance, or grace); if I think the non-Christian path will be especially damaging for society; if there is injustice involved (eg corruption or active abuse of the vulnerable); or if it is a case of religious freedom. Which, in Australia at least, brings me back to abortion. Only this time round I know it's okay not to give it my all, and I have some clear strategies for action. I do need to get better at working out non-religious arguments and at linking social issues back to the Gospel. I need to be nutting these things out as issues crop up, in anticipation of conversations that might come my way. And, who knows, one day I may even do something crazy like write a Letter to the Editor, call talkback radio or visit my local politician.

Postscript: Actually, I just remembered that I can't be getting involved in politics here, precisely because that's not the main purpose for being here, and things can go badly for the missionary organisation if you do - not to mention that it can be quite rude to critique the politics of the country where you are a guest. But I still need to have my thinking clear on all this so I can provide godly counsel to the people I work with - and, in this internet age, there'll still be plenty of opportunity for me to play my part in Oz.

Postscript II: And prayer. That's one area of political involvement that is unambiguously commanded of us... and one that I mostly forget.

Pre-teens

A Chilean friend was telling me that at her church they've just starting to provide a special Sunday School for kids aged 9-13, who aren't really kids any more (they're dealing with more 'adult' issues), but who also aren't quite teenagers yet (too immature). It's a unique and difficult time of transition. The thinking was that Sunday School tends to focus on the younger kids and Youth Group the older teenagers, so kids at this crucial stage can get overlooked. I think there's a lot of wisdom here.

Riches

Chile is a hugely stratified society. Everyone knows their place and knows how to tell where everyone else slots in. I've been kind of considering myself upper class, as I speak English and I've got white skin (sadly, this matters). But it doesn't rest easy with me. Over time I've worked out that my wage is about double that of a cleaner and a little over half that of a nurse - so I guess that actually makes me middle class. Such is the privilege of a Western foreigner - I automatically have the sort of flexibility and respect that local people may never earn. But all this has made me see that I have 'issues' with the rich. I don't like their richness and I don't like being associated with them. What's going on?

What's going on is that I'm feeling judgmental and guilty because I feel like it's wrong for some people to have more than enough, while others don't have what they need. I feel like the poor are poor because the rich aren't generous.

It is certainly wrong that some people don't have enough, but the way of righting this doesn't lie solely with the rich. Social systems are more complex than that and God is powerful and has many creative means at his disposal. It's not all up to us. And now is not the age for abolishing poverty - that's what heaven is for, and he will carefully shepherd his people, poor and rich, into that good place.

And while it might be wrong for some to lack all they need, it's not wrong to have more than enough - it's a blessing! What is wrong is to have this and not be generous. So there's no need for me to be ashamed or hide my wealth - but I do need to question my generosity. And generosity is something I'm only slowly learning and I still don't know exactly what it should look like. But, by God's grace, I'm getting there and will arrive.

The foreigner

Most of my life I've been 'a local', more or less. Now the tables have turned and I'm the foreigner. So, with my newly-won experience, what can churches do to make foreigners welcome? Some of this will go for any newcomer.

• Sit next to them in church. Chances are they feel like a loser sitting on their own.
• If it's not too much trouble, it helps to have things in writing (song lyrics, liturgy, announcements, sermon outlines).
• If you see them standing by themselves, invite them to join your conversation. (It's really hard to break into a conversation when you don't know the language or the social norms.)
• Let them know what you're talking about (but don't ruin the conversation by explaining every detail)...
• Or find out a bit about them (try to ask simple - even yes/no - questions).
• Talk a little slower than normal (and a little more simply if you can), but don't talk more loudly.
• Keep your cool if they don't understand you or the other way round. Try for a bit, then give up and move on. It's no big deal.
• Invite them to your place for lunch.
• Help them with the practicalities of getting involved in church. Check they know what's going on, that they're welcome, where and when it is, and that they have a way of getting there.
• For new events, let them know of any cultural traditions (eg how the church does family lunch).
• Ask them to be on a roster (one that doesn't require much talking).
• Greet them enthusiastically when you see them each week (by name if you can).
• And church leaders should keep an eye on how they're doing, if they're getting along to stuff, if they're starting to make friends.

Some of these things are easy to do and others call for sacrifice. They mightn't seem very glamorous but I tell you that simple things like these will transform the foreigner's experience. And perhaps the foreigner may be like me - a super-interesting and fun person - the sort of person you will be delighted you took the trouble to get to know ;).