Eire and Yisra'el

The land of Ireland and the language of Hebrew warm my heart. I don't know why, out of the many things in this world, it should be these two, but it is. I lived in Ireland for nine months and my heart broke a little to say goodbye. I hated the winter, my relationship with my fiancé was horrible, and I never really connected with the Irish people, but still it stole my heart. It was the language as much as anything - so whimsical, formal and archaic, like stepping into a fairytale.

And again, I hated learning Hebrew and was rather hopeless at it, but fell in love with its sweet plainness and the poetry of its repeated forms. I only have to see its letters to feel a rush of affection. It's an achingly sweet, minimalist language, one that conveys great profundity with the slightest twist of a word.

It's the words isn't it.

Introverted round-up

Those who follow this blog will know that I've been struggling with introversion - and I mean, while I definitely am introverted (case in point: my two favourite days of the week are devoid of people), I'm not even that extreme. So I hate to think how hard some people find it to navigate the world. Here are three things that have been a massive help:

1. Crafting my week. For me this means two days of downtime and recuperation - Saturday and Monday. Saturday is my rest day, when I retreat from the world and especially from my responsibilities. This is particularly important given how people-intense and weighty my ministry job is. Saturday is a day for rest, for creativity, for living simply and in the moment. Then comes Sunday with its many people. Monday is my thinking and writing day. I sit in my bedroom or lounge room all day long and don't talk to anyone. I think through complex things, I give expression to my thoughts, and sometimes I read articles or books. I'd go crazy if I didn't have these two days in my week. I do realise that not everyone is free to structure their week as they please - it's one of the blessings of doing fulltime ministy, but maybe you could still tweek it a little.
2. Cutting myself slack afterhours. In the past I have felt guilty and complicated when I passed on an evening or weekend social event and when I never initiated such. But then I realised that I'm working with people all the time in my job, giving myself to them and (hopefully) being a blessing to them. This counts. And if I don't have the emotional energy left to spend lots of social time with acquaintances and even with friends, that's okay.
3. Enjoy people. My recent ephiphany really has worked!

Before Christmas was a cultural event

Last night my Dad was singing in the massed Carols by the Bay Choir so me and Mum went along to watch. I felt like I was in Sydney, it was such a glitsy, polished affair. I also felt like I was in America, with all those modern carols about Santa, wint'ry streets and huddling by the fire with family and friends.

Christmas as a cultural event is so ingrained in me that I find it difficult to appreciate as a Christian - its predetermined expression somehow strips it of authenticity. But last night was different. I sang through the Christmas story in The First Noel surrounded by unbelievers ("The first noel, the angels did say, was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay . . . noel, noel, noel, noel, born is the King of Israel! They looked up and saw a star shining in the east beyond them far . . .  noel, noel, noel, noel, born is the King of Israel! . . . Then entered in those wise men three full reverently upon their knee, and offered there in his presence their gold and myrrh and frankincense" etc), and I thought, I actually believe these words, this is exactly what I think happened in that place all those years ago. I don't just love it as a heartwarming tradition; I love it because that sweet, prosaic, magnificent story changed everything. This wasn't a simple, beneficent act of God; it was God himself getting dirty on this planet, born onto a muddy floor amidst all the blood and gunk. This story is as gritty and confounding as it is beautiful.

Besties

People come to church expecting to make friends. But you can't plan for friendship. And it's not what the church promises to be. The Bible speaks of church as a holy temple, a purified bride, a flock of sheep, a family of adopted children . . . but never a group of friends. It's been said that Christians are likely to leave new churches within six months if they haven't made seven friends.1 We should work hard to provide environments conducive to making friends, but perhaps we also need to alter people's expectations. Our society offers friendships; we offer family. And the thing about family is that, it's family. You don't have to wait to see if you connect with seven people; you're one of us from the very beginning, bound together by Jesus' blood. We need to work hard at conveying this to people and living as if it is so.


1 E Stetzer, Planting Missional Churches, 290.

21st century conservatism

I often find myself feeling anxious before I hang out with my non-Christian friends. Even if they are old and dear friends, we have opposite views and it's like I'm stepping into their territory, a place where I am expected to play by predetermined rules. The eyes of my society bear down on me, watching to see I keep to the permissible. In a conversation about tragedy, someone concludes, "I just try to do my best, to live the best life I can". They have done well; that is what should be said. To point to a better life beyond this one or a God of compassion and justice would be to go heedlessly against the rules. So I smile politely, and the conversation shifts.

It's not always this way. The trick is to remember that every place is his. He reigns over every inglorious situation and I am always his child. My society writes its expectations in ignorance and blindness. But my allegiance is to my King, to his rules, rules of truth and goodness, of right and wrong. His rules trump my society's for they are anchored in truth and they ever will be.

Equilibrium

We ask God to help us live a balanced life, but is that what he wants for us? When we speak of balance we have in mind such things as church-work-chores-family-errands-friends-fun. But such a list betrays a twofold problem - they all look like tasks and they all seem to be of equal importance.

Here's my take on the Bible's better vision:

The first thing this better picture does is draw the eye away from your own life (balanced or otherwise) and upward to God. [Well, maybe not this specific 'better picture' ;)] The key is to live for God, whatever the details of your life. It also speaks of identity before task. As a Christian, you (and your husband or wife) are part of the church. That's who you are as you go about life in the world.

First of all, this means that the question to ask is not 'Is my life balanced?', but rather 'Is my life glorifying to God?'. Secondly, a married person will always think of themselves as a married person, and, because of this identity, they will care for their husband and wife, spend time with them and help them out with stuff. In the same way, as a Christian you should always think of yourself as part of the church, and, because of this, you should care for your brothers and sisters, spend time with them and help them out. And for those who are married, you will find your marriage strengthened as together you do this work of service.

Homebrand //2

A few posts back I began exploring the ethics of homebrand. A friend very kindly directed me to some more articles on the topic (see here, here, and here), which helped me to develop my thinking a little further. But not too much. I have three reflections:

1. I do care if a product that I love is no longer stocked (as in John Birmingham's La Gina tomato problem). It's important for me to be careful with my money (I don't have much of it and I want to continue being able to not only look after and spoil myself but also give a little away), but if a product is awesome I will happily pay more (take Carmen's muesli bars as an example). If there are enough of us (middle class) people around to purchase great muesli bars, then my guess is that Carmen's will stay, even though there is a homebrand alternative. (Is my thinking right here?) And if I'm only one of a handful who appreciate this product and it disappears, then I'll suck it up.
2. But now I'm sounding callous, like I don't care if companies shut down and people's livelihood and life's work goes down the drain. I do care - it's a horrible reality. But I get so overwhelmed by the complexity of systems like food production that I need to assess coldly so I can actually reach an ethical decision. And I believe that the people who supply the homebrand label are equally deserving of a wage.
3. I've realised one major problem though - when the massive supermarket chains subsidise products so much that the consumer ends up paying below cost. This makes it impossible for alternative brands to be both competitive and break even. I've heard that the $2 two-litre milk falls into this category, so I'm going to stop buying it.

I'd love to hear your thoughts!