Utter Disgrace!

On rare occasions this white man literally feels nauseous at the decisions and actions of the Australian Government, be it a Liberal or Labour government. And it seems that these issues predominantly arise out of the Department of Immigration, Multicultural and Indiginous Affairs. Hence the current atrocity concerning the revoking of a German doctor's visa on the basis of his son, a sufferer of Down's Syndrome. Click the link for a brief description of the regrettable (to say the least) matter: http://news.ninemsn.com.au/article.aspx?id=657645

Blind anger prevents me from expressing the full force of my opinion on this shameful episode. So this white man simply will reduce it to two words: UTTERLY DISGRACEFUL!

The Pastor's Ass

This white man was sent this email this morning, entitled "the pastor's ass!" I recall receiving this once before and I imagine it is one of those humourous faith-related inspiring emails that does the rounds every now and then. However I post it here mainly because of the truths contained at it's conclusion. The "moral of this story" is powerful and a worthy reminder to us all.

The Pastor's Ass

The pastor entered his donkey in a race and it won.

The pastor was so pleased with the donkey that he entered it in the race again, and it won again.

The local paper read: PASTOR'S ASS OUT FRONT.

The Bishop was so upset with this kind of publicity that he ordered the pastor not to enter the donkey in another race.

The next day, the local paper headline read: BISHOP SCRATCHES PASTOR'S ASS.

This was too much for the bishop, so he ordered the pastor to get rid of the donkey.

The pastor decided to give it to a nun in a nearby convent.

The local paper, hearing of the news, posted the following headline the next day: NUN HAS BEST ASS IN TOWN.

The bishop fainted.

He informed the nun that she would have to get rid of the donkey, so she sold it to a farmer for $10.
The next day the paper read: NUN SELLS ASS FOR $10.

This was too much for the bishop, so he ordered the nun to buy back the donkey and lead it to the plains where it could run wild.

The next day the headlines read: NUN ANNOUNCES HER ASS IS WILD AND FREE.

The bishop was buried the next day.

The moral of the story is . . being concerned about public opinion can bring you much grief and misery .. . even shorten your life. So be yourself and enjoy life. Stop worrying about everyone else's ass and you'll be a lot happier and live longer!

AMEN!

Theology and Hinch...

For a long time this white man has had an on-going love-hate relationship with "the Human Headline", renowned radio presenter Derryn Hinch. I say it's a love-hate affinity with Hinch as there are simply some things I really respect about the man and the principles he stands on. For example, his fight for justice for victims of crime, expecially child sexual offences is highly commendable. Yet on the other hand there are sides to Hinch that I find difficult to accept. He can be brash and downright rude to people who don't agree with his views and his penchant to play the "shock-jock" sometimes with overly sensationalised stories is highly annoying and sometimes completely distasteful. Yet in and through all of that, I find Hinch a compelling voice in society and, whenever I get the chance I often enjoy his 4-6PM Drive program on 3AW 693.

One current issue that concerns Hinch is typical of the reason he produces such a dichotomy of feeling and opinion. It relates to the present court battle Hinch is involved in. Earlier this year Hinch publicly named and shamed (as only Derryn can) two men charged with child sexual offences. The County Court had issued suppression orders protecting the accused men from being named. Hinch ignored the orders and now finds himself in court with his own charges to defend. He believes he was morally right to name the offenders in the public interest. For a more comprehensive reading of the case click on this link http://news.ninemsn.com.au/article.aspx?id=657099

Everybody who knows Derryn Hinch knows that his number one pet hate in this world are paedophiles. He has already gone to jail, charged with contempt of court for naming a paedophile during the offenders trial some years ago. He has demonstrated unequivocably that he is prepared to sacrifice even his own freedom in his long-term committed campaign to protect the community from the evils of child sexual abuse. And I admire him for his courageous stance. Hinch despises child sexual offenders with a passion and who can blame him for that. Is there a more heinous despicable crime in our society than the sexually abuse of children? As a parent I can't bear to imagine the inner rage I would unleash if my sons were ever subjected to abuse in that way. So I deeply respect Hinch for his zealous and principled fight against this human evil.

Yet I am also conflicted as this soft, still voice maintains a steady whisper from my heart to my head. It whispers repetitively one word: "grace...grace...grace..." And as much as my head tries to mute this continuing impassioned truth from within, I can't help but be stopped in my legalistic tracks to consider and deeply reflect upon this most 'inconvenient' of God's truths. My head hates the paedophile and everything about him, just like Hinch does. Yet my heart reminds me of a cross that stands in the midst of all eternity that speaks not of hate, but overflows with love and, that word, grace. And I am undone by the truth again that if Jesus forgave my sin then His love and grace can also cover the multitude of sins of anyone, even the darkest stains of the paedophile. And therefore I am compelled again to wrestle with the God-given directive to hate the sin but love the sinner. And I continue to wrestle...

Funny how such a strongly self-professed atheist like Derryn Hinch can open up the deepest, most tangled of faith complexities in a white man like me.

Sick Charity...

A Sunday school teacher was telling her class the story of the Good Samaritan, in which a man was beaten, robbed and left for dead. She described the situation in vivid detail so her students would catch the drama. Then, she asked the class, 'If you saw a person lying on the roadside, all wounded and bleeding, what would you do?' A thoughtful little girl broke the hushed silence, 'I think I'd throw up.'

Fair Game?

This white man loves his sport. Whether it be AFL, rugby league, football (soccer), union or basically anything that is a fair contest between two opposing teams. But good sport has to be just that - a true and fair contest in which both teams start with an equal chance of victory. And it is because a fair game should consist of these essential basics that I am flabbergasted as to why the 'powers-that-be' continue to persist with that charade of an international tournament, the Rugby League World Cup. I mean let's face it - as fine a sport rugby league is, it is, in essence a breakaway protest from it's original entity, rugby union. And rugby league is seriously played in only a handful of nations - it is hardly a world-wide football code, let alone a world-wide sport. Of the twelve rugby league world cups contested, Australia has won ten! It was a runner-up in one other and mustn't have shown up to the other remaining one! Obviously, Australia dominates the rugby league world as it has arguably the best competition in the world, the NRL. The only other competition of note is the English Super League which is full of retired Aussie NRL players anyway. So why persist with such an ill-conceived joke of a tournament? Everybody knows that the cup will be won by Australia with the runner-up being either New Zealand or England. And so, because it is a race of three, why not just adopt a tri-nations tournament concept like rugby union has for it's big three southern hemisphere powers, Australia, New Zealand and South Africa. Honestly, why bother with a rugby league world cup - who wants to see Australia hammer Scotland by 100 points? That's not sport; that's not fair game, it's an unfunny joke!

Verse of the Day...

Understanding the Bible...

A father was approached by his small son who told him proudly, 'I know what the Bible means!'

His father smiled and replied, 'What do you mean, you 'know' what the Bible means?

The son replied, 'I do know!'

'Okay,' said his father. 'What does the Bible mean?'

'That's easy, Daddy...' the young boy replied excitedly, '

It stands for 'Basic Information Before Leaving Earth.'

An Old Man's GPS

Boys Behaving Badly...

So the Xavier College Year 12 boys have been a bad lot haven't they?! It reminds this white man of his own Year 12 muck up day at my old school, Scotch College. By the way, even I can recall there being a lot of Xavier boys in the local Hawthorn area around that time running amok as well. Private school boys just being a little too public! Anyway what I remember of my end-of-year celebrations back in 1989 were obviously much tamer than the happenings of this week. Nevertheless even back then I can remember thinking that the whole shenanigans were pretty contrived and meaningless. Frankly I was certainly happy to finish up school but all I wanted to do was enjoy the freedom after the exams.

But I will say that the behaviour of some of the Xavier College Year 12 students appears really outrageous. An intimidating balaclava-clad mob moving through the local streets damaging cars, blowing up letter boxes and basically terrorising people is quite a step up from water pistols filled with soy sauce and graffiti-ing other students shirts! Maybe Xavier should have sent all their Year 12 boys to the World Youth Day conference in Sydney earlier this year for some spiritual guidance! Pope Benedict would be most displeased with his boys behaving badly!

Mr Men!

This white man clearly remembers being given many Mr Men books as a kid. He should remember because he's still got most of them! Now they are played with, stacked up, thrown around and rarely read by Kim and Luc. But it seems that the Mr Men series is still soldiering on. Today, in my local Coles supermarket they were selling the books along with little figurines. At the time of writing this Luc is glued to ABC kids TV watching the Mr Men Show! On that curse of a networking tool Facebook, you can send Mr Men characters to friends as gifts. And it seems that Mr Men has embraced a wider range of female Miss Men (?), sorry...Little Miss characters in the spirit of gender equality. Many of the original characters are there: Mr Happy, Mr Bump, Mr Strong, Mr Tickle and so on...But I haven't seen Mr Lazy or fat Mr Greedy re-appear yet. Maybe they have moved on to Mr Men heaven. Actually who needs them parading around for kids these days anyway - it's not as if laziness and obesity aren't enough of a plague upon children!

So anyway, three cheers for all the Mr Men who have stood the test of time and continue to both teach and entertain kids today. And let's hope Mr Men and Little Miss's remain as is - for this white man fears that one day political correctness will rear its ugly head and push upon our kids a Miss Man or Mr Lady or some other twisted reality that would only further mess up our children's innocence. Roger Hargreaves would turn in his grave!

Pure Picture of Grace!

Sometimes talking about grace is just too hard. Words don't seem enough. Sometimes we need to be reminded of it's all-consuming depth through a picture for we know that a picture speaks a thousand words. So here is grace for your contemplation...

Verse For The Day...

Bear Christianity...

An atheist was taking a walk through the woods, admiring all that evolution had created.
"What majestic trees! What powerful rivers! What beautiful animals!", he said to himself.
As he was walking along the river, he heard a rustling in the bushes behind him. When he turned to see what the cause was, he saw a 7-foot grizzly bear charging right towards him. He ran as fast as he could. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the bear was closing, he ran even faster, crying in fear. He looked over his shoulder again, and the bear was even closer.
His heart was pounding and he tried to run even faster. He tripped and fell on the ground. He rolled over to pick himself up, but saw the bear right on top of him, reaching for him with his left paw and raising his right paw to strike him.
At that moment, the Atheist cried out "Oh my God!"
Time stopped.
The bear froze.
The forest was silent.
Even the river stopped moving. As a bright light shone upon the man, a voice came out of the sky, "You deny my existence for all of these years; teach others I don't exist; and even credit creation to a cosmic accident. Do you expect me to help you out of this predicament? Am I to count you as a believer?"
The atheist looked directly into the light "It would be hypocritical of me to suddenly ask You to treat me as Christian now, but perhaps could you make the bear a Christian?"
"Very well," said the voice.
The light went out.
The river ran again. And the sounds of the forest resumed.
And then the bear dropped his right paw, brought both paws together, bowed his head and spoke: "Lord, for this food which I am about to receive, I am truly thankful."

The Real Reason for White Hair?

One day, a little boy is sitting and watching her mother do the dishes at the kitchen sink. He suddenly notices that his mother has several strands of white hair sticking out in contrast on her brunette head. He looks at his mother and inquisitively asks, "Why are some of your hairs white, Mum?" His mother replied,"Well, every time that you do something wrong and make me cry or unhappy, one of my hairs turns white." The little boy thought about this revelation for a while, and then said, "So, Mum, how come ALL of grandma's hairs are white?"

Why So Much Angst?

As noted in this blog previously, this white man has come across some interesting moments in relation to his two son's primary school. And more often than not it's not the school kids who create the curiosity but rather it is their parents. And there's no better example than that witnessed by myself, along with many other parents this morning outside the entrance of Mackellar Primary School. Two mothers, both of Chinese-Timorese origin, having dropped off their sons to their 1/2 class decided to make a spectacle of themselves out on the street by having the most raucous and animated argument possible. What they were in vehement disagreement about was unknown as the verbal venom sprayed around was definitely in a native tongue but there could be no mistaking the totally uninhibited animosity between the ladies. So much so that this white man decided to sit in his car for a good 30 minutes whilst their tirade continued...and continued. I only sat watching because their conflict was so heated that it seemed likely it would turn physical. What was also regrettable about this open display was the fact that some late-coming kids arriving at school all bore witness to the immaturity of the women. Until finally one of the combatants decided she'd had enough and walked away to her house directly opposite the school. The other drove off in her Daihatsu cursing the world from Dili to Delahey!

And it simply made this white man ask himself one question - why can't people just get along? Actually over and above that, because I recognise that naturally conflicts between people happen, the greater question is this - when these confrontations flare why is it that it takes so long for one party to have the wisdom just to walk away and let it go? Is our human pride so all-consuming that we would prefer making a public fool of ourselves before our fellow school community rather than assessing the situation and rationally deciding that discretion is the far better part of valour? I know that we all have our moments of rage and rationality is the furtherest thing from our mind but really...in front of a primary school at 8:55 AM? Grow up ladies please! Your sons would have been ashamed...

BodyPump!

Over the course of this year this white man has prided himself on largely sticking with a steady routine of gym torture three days-per-week. Torturous, yes; but also predictable and comfortable (if that is possible for gym torture!). Within those sessions, I have adhered to a tried and tested workout that has served me well in achieving my weight loss and muscle strength goals. And then, over this past weekend one of my closest young friends from church invited me to attend her bodypump class on Monday night at her gym. A seemingly innocuous invitation to pander along with some light exercise at the command of some hyped up chick playing techno music I thought. I was right about the instructor and the music. Unfortunately innocuous and light it was not! In short, bodypump turned this white man into a bodychump! And so I'm still dragging myself today with lactic-infected legs and learning a valuable lesson - don't go to the gym and do a workout on the same morning as a bodypump class and hence, that a sudden change in routine is better approached conservatively! Moreover, I have a new-found respect for all those leotard-clad waifs who slavishly devote themselves to bodypump and other such exercise classes. As for a possible return to bodypump for this white man...I'd do it again but I'd have my own mp3 in my ears - that techno music is abhorrent!

Thanks for the experience Linda!

Deep Ocean of Love...

And God said, "Let the water under the sky be gathered to one place...and it was so....and the gathered waters He called "seas". And God saw that it was good!"

The Maze...

This white man believes that if faith was designed to be sailed on a set chartered straight course then, frankly it would be more about the destination than the journey. And it's because of this that I grow increasingly perplexed as to why some church's today desire so strongly to place it's members in a gun-barrel straight laneway of faith. They won't allow any deviation, any freedom of individual movement outside of the set course and they slowly erode the believer's independence of faith expression. It frustrates me because the God of creation I know made me with an intellect and a true freedom of choices. That's the God I believe in and love!

And that is why I believe that faith must be encountered and lived not in some perfectly straight tunnel visioned scope of reality. Faith must be lived out in a maze. In mazes, the whole purpose is to get confused, take wrong turns, reach dead-ends, explore all the directions and options and with wisdom then chart a best course to the finish. It happens through trial and error and is not devoid of some very dark and lost moments. That is why faith is amazing! A-maze-in which we must participate in the greatest journey possible...a journey where we chase after God yet amidst the searching also deeply know that God still seeks after us.

Give me that kind of maze any day!

Verse For The Day

Wise Words on Prayer!

"An elderly gentleman passed his granddaughter's room one night and overheard her repeating the alphabet in an oddly reverent way.What on earth are you up to?" he asked."I'm saying my prayers," explained the little girl."But I can't think of exactly the right words tonight, so I'm just saying all the letters. God will put them together for me, because He knows what I'm thinking."

Amen!

La Porchetta Shepparton-style!

If there's one thing this white man knows, it's that your regular suburban La Porchetta restaurant is usually very busy. So with that in mind Phuong and I thought it might be opportune to drop into the Shepparton La Porchetta restaurant for lunch during our countryside getaway earlier in the week. We had hoped that we might enjoy a quiet, less frenetic pizza with Kim and Luc as opposed to the normal hustle and bustle of the usually brusque Watergardens (our local haunt) waitresses. What we encountered in the Shepparton restaurant was mind-boggling!

On arrival we respectfully observed the normal request of waiting at the booking pedestal with the sign "wait here to be seated". And we waited...and waited...Finally we took our own seats as the one waitress in the restaurant seemed otherwise occupied...with everything! You see, as I glanced around for other waitresses and even someone making the pizzas I was bemused to see nobody! In disbelief, when the waitress finally made it over to our table with our menus, I asked her where her fellow workers were. "What fellow workers? What you see is what you get!" she retorted. That's right - she was it! Cook, waitress, chief and bottlewasher all bundled up in one country-sized lady with the works! She really was the proverbial pizza with the lot! Made the pizzas, served them, cleaned tables, re-set the tables, made the coffees and so on...Quite remarkable! I guess luckily for her there wasn't a huge crowd frequenting her restaurant but there was still a good 10-12 people on 5 or so tables. Enough to still keep her well and truly on the move!

So I guess the economic squeeze really is on in Shepparton. But whether it's in the urban sprawl or the rural heartland one thing remains the same - those La Porchetta waitresses are still just as abrupt and rushed off their feet anywhere you go!

It was nice but now back to reality!

Back in Melbourne after a short three day time-out in northern Victoria with Phuong and the boys and armed with some interesting stories to tell! Stay tuned...

The Ups and Downs of Life...

Today saw this white man traverse the mountain tops and the valleys all in a single day. It started as a greatly significant and meaningful day in church today with my ordaination as a full pastor. Yet it ended in shock as the Melbourne Storm got smashed 40-0 by Manly in the NRL grand final. I guess that's God's way of keeping this white man humble! Anyway it reminded me of that old Frank Sinatra classic "That's Life..." And so it is...

"That's life (that's life), that's what all the people say

You're ridin' high in April, shot down in May

But I know I'm gonna change that tune

When I'm back on top, back on top in June

I said that's life (that's life), and as funny as it may seem

Some people get their kicks stompin' on a dream

But I don't let it, let it get me down

'cause this fine old world, it keeps spinnin' around

I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet, a pawn and a king

I've been up and down and over and out and I know one thing

Each time I find myself flat on my face

I pick myself up and get back in the race

That's life (that's life), I tell you I can't deny it

I thought of quitting, baby, but my heart just ain't gonna buy it

And if I didn't think it was worth one single try

I'd jump right on a big bird and then I'd fly

That's life (that's life), that's life and I can't deny it

Many times I thought of cuttin' out but my heart won't buy it

But if there's nothin' shakin' come this here July

I'm gonna roll myself up in a big ball a-and die..."

Go Storm!

One of this white man's fondest memories was around this time nine years ago when he stood dumbfounded in a marquee tent next to Phuong surrounded by hundreds of manic Melbourne Storm supporters absolutely going crazy as we celebrated the Storm's first National Rugby League premiership. Remarkably they won the championship in only their second year of competing in the NRL. Only a month or two prior to that, Phuong had attended her first rugby league game at Olympic Park. That in itself was a remarkable achievement as contact sports, especially a game as brutal as rugby, are not at the top of the Vietnamese sports appreciation list! So on that grand final day we congregated with many other Storm members who could not travel to the live game in Sydney at the club sponsored event. Molly Meldrum was there amongst the pandemonium, along with his cowboy hat which at some point was removed from his head and filled to the brim with champagne. It was a night to remember...

Nine years on this white man keenly hopes again for more Melbourne Storm success as they face a grand final rematch with the Manly Sea Eagles. Victory over Manly in last year's grand final was sweet - it certainly removed the bitterness of Storm's grand final defeat the previous year to the Brisbane Broncos. But what is just as sweet is to see Melbourne, a rugby league team battling in the heartland of Aussie Rules, dominating a 'foreign' football code and, by being so successful, annoying the living daylights out of nearly every New South Welshman and Queenslander. Most rugby league traditionalists up north often confess that they don't even believe Melbourne should have a team in the NRL. So this white man says to all of them - chewy on your boot and may the Storm serve it up again tomorrow night and bring the cup back down south of the Murray!

Melbourne Storm...Melbourne Proud!

The Japanese Nikkei in Trouble!

This white man received this email today regarding financial issues in Japan. I liked it...

"Following the problems in the sub-prime lending market in America and the run on Northern Rock in the UK, uncertainty has now hit Japan. In the last 7 days Origami Bank has folded, Sumo Bank has gone belly up and Bonsai Bank announced plans to cut some of its branches. Yesterday, it was announced that Karaoke Bank is up for sale and will likely go for a song, while today shares in Kamikaze Bank were suspended after they nose-dived. While Samurai Bank fell on its sword, Ninja Bank is reported to have taken a hit, but they remain in the black. Furthermore, 500 staff at Karate Bank got the chop and analysts report that there is something fishy going on at Sushi Bank where it is feared that staff may get a raw deal."

Contemplative Art...The Doorway To Eternity

No Dog Collars Please!

This white man has had some interesting contemplating to do. This Sunday I am fully ordained as a full (full of what is another question?) pastor within the Vietnamese Evangelical Church in Australia. In titular terms within my denomination, it means going from being referred to as pastor to being now acknowledged as reverend. Now this is where my dilemma begins because in my mind whenever the term 'reverend' is announced it immediately makes me think of an old decrepit black suited gent with a white dog collar! Much like the old toothy reverend that was comically portrayed in the old UK comedy The Dick Emery Show (those old enough to have watched the show will know who I mean and appreciate the comparison)! My situation wasn't helped much today when my insurance company sent a driver to pick me up to retrieve my car from a car detailer who had been patching up my rear bumper from a minor accident last week. While in transit to my car the driver, all suited up and looking very debonair, asked me what I did for a living. I told him that I was the pastor of a church. He seemed quite surprised at my response and I quickly noticed his head-to-toe assessment of my appearance, to which he replied "you're out of uniform then - you haven't got your dog collar on!"

So that was it - this white man has made his mind up and issues the following decree from now to eternity to all concerned:- for the past five years I have grown comfortable in my title as pastor and I intend to keep it that way! I will not refer to myself as a 'reverend' ever! I understand that I cannot control others calling me that but they will only do it once. Only for formalities sake, such as for marriages, deaths or anything in between that involves a signature on a paper will I use the insignia 'reverend'. So that's it - I took my insecurities about the issue to the Lord in prayer and He sent His messenger today as an answer to my prayer! No dog collar for this white man!