Free to Be...

Inadequate...fear...

Insecure soul

Fragmented...scattered

Yearn to be whole

Anxious...questioning...

Doubts rack my mind

Unworthy...guilty...

Sinner defined

Jesus...Messiah...

Mirroring grace

Freedom...forgiveness...

Shadows erase

Teacher...Redeemer...

Showing the way

To freedom...release...

Worries allay

Condemnation...gone...

Gracious and free

Joy overflowing...

Free to be me!

Just free to be...

Grace & Camp Hope...

Like the rest of the world with access to a television, this white man has been moved in spirit by the amazing rescue effort in the Atacama Desert, Chile that saw 33 trapped miners freed from deep inside the earth after spending some 69 days underground. One-by-one the miners emerged from the bowels of captivity to joyous raptures of nationalistic fervour and emotional outpourings from families, friends, rescuers, media and the Chilean Prime Minister and First Lady. Truly, the execution of the brilliantly devised and implemented plan to free these trapped men will go down in history as one of the most incredible feats of human endeavour.

Physically, the miners all resurfaced in relatively good condition considering the scale of their plight over the past 10 weeks. Emotionally and psychologically-speaking, the toll exacted on these men's souls is sure to be revealed as they wrestle with the demons of their ordeal. Psychologists have already noted that there will be issues for these men in re-settling into normality. Issues with these men re-establishing their roles in their families and re-integrating into local communities. Issues with just basically finding the beat again of the rhythm of life. But one statement by a post-traumatic stress expert commenting on the Chilean rescue drama really got this white man thinking.

The quote went something like this - "some of these men may even miss the mine they were trapped in..." My immediate reaction to this was predictable - how could they miss being stuck 2000 feet underground for ten weeks?! But then I thought again about the statement and began to think through how this really could be true. For ten weeks those men had to re-frame their whole existence deep under the earth. They had to create a mini-society down there with order and structure. They had to submit to a communal code in order to survive - in body, mind and spirit. I could imagine they had to grow to respect, maybe even love the rocky walls hemming them in just to endure their sentence underground with some modicum of sanity. And so, in accordance with some perverse kind of subterranean-Stockholm Syndrome there may well be a man or two who at some point in the vast openness of their re-found freedom crave the walls of simplicity and the relative serenity of their 2000ft tomb. To the normal healthy mind this proposition is madness but we weren't down there...for 69 days...2000ft under.

Is it any different from the many Christians in churches today who have been afforded the greatest most liberating gift one could receive, GRACE, yet still crave to exist within stony tombs of law? Isn't it sadly ironic for the church today that we, as a redeemed and wholly free people of God find ourselves 'suffocating' in our freedom in Christ so we return to the 'oxygen' of law where misplaced comfort is found? Paul letter to the church in Galatia clearly warned that fellowship that law and grace were two realities that could not and should not be mixed. And yet I still see and know free people desperately clinging onto the four-walls of their stone-law entrapment believing that they can somehow traverse and co-exist between both worlds.

Let me provide an example. I recently encountered a worship leader in a church who, in what appears to be a moment of complete ecstacy and freedom in spirit, tells the congregation they must raise their hands and lift their eyes upwards to worship our God in the purest form of adoring perfect worship. New covenant bells and whistles with all the trappings of an old covenant stone foundation. The last time I checked my theological basics, God is believed to be omnipresent. Everywhere...up, down, sideways, diagonal and importantly, within. So who am I raising my hands and eyes to? The Sunday School God who looks like grandfather time and resides perched on a cloud in the sky up there? Life is so much simpler and uncomplicated within the solid walls of the spirit of law - you do it this way, you do it well and God will be pleased with you child...Otherwise....!

So the fact remains - it really is easy to imagine that a relatively small space of confinement that would appear obviously to be a hell-hole could transform into a place of comfort, a haven of safety and security. It works that way in the spiritual - I know that to be true because there's many trapped Christians deep underground in law who need to emerge to the surface of grace. Maybe one day they'll see the sunlight of the real Camp Hope...

A Little House of an Ideal Dream...

Way back yonder when this white man recalls asking his then-fiancee in Vietnam what her ideal expectation was and/or who her perfect role-model for a husband was I recall she replied in one word..."chac-ly"! Completely confused and not wanting this important point to get lost in translation, I pressed on the matter of who or what "chac-ly" meant.. and eventually I understood. For one of the favourite TV shows in Phuong's little house in a post-1986 Vietnam following the institution of the "Doi Moi" 'opening up' of the regime's economic and social reforms was the classic 70's US frontier drama Little House on the Prairie. And the main star of that wholesome serial, so full of good old Christian values was Michael Landon, who played Charles Ingalls, the father of the Ingalls family. I knew the show for my house back in Australia had grown up with the Ingalls family as well. What I remembered the most was the familiar opening melody of the show and the sight of the three Ingalls daughters running down the hill and the littlest one falling over! As a young boy that must have struck me funny for some reason. So there it was - Charles Ingalls, or as any Vietnamese would refer to him through the best efforts of their local tongue, "Chac-ly" - the model of manhood!

So the benchmark for being the finest husband possible was set. And what a high bar of exemplary moral fibre it appeared to be. For if you know the series, you would understand that Charles Ingalls was a man who was indefatiguable, upright, proud and with manly integrity oozing from his hard-working sweaty pores. He rarely appeared to be dishevelled (has there ever been a more perfect equilibrium of wild manhood in those longish curly locks yet with the femininity of a clean shaven chiseled jaw?), always seemed to have the wisdom of Solomon and yet also possessed the romantic touch, forever greeting his wife Caroline with a kiss and making her feel like a queen. In short, Charles Ingalls elevated the ideal qualities of fatherhood and spousehood to almost divine levels. This white man felt the scrutiny of comparison immediately and deep inside was found scurrying off to the shadows of my relatively mediocre state of manhood. Could I ever rise to the pantheons of "Chac-ly"? Not likely my realistic mind reasoned...

So why this quaint little history lesson some 13 years later you ask? Just the other day I stumbled across 6-7 DVD's spanning the entire seasons length of Little House on the Prairie. So I bought the first season DVD and surprised Phuong with it a few nights ago (just like Chac-ly would have!). We are slowly making our way through the episodes of the first season and are thoroughly enjoying them. Really good, decent, inoffensive stories with sound morality - exactly the kind of watching that is as scarce as hen's teeth these days on TV. The tissue box has been busy and memories have been stimulated as Chac-ly has returned to Phuong's life! But for the white man, as much as I have appreciated the show for what it delivers, some old insecurities started to arise...Am I still living in the shadow of Chac-ly?! Have I lived out a worthy standard as a husband and a father?! I admit to jesting a little in these hypothetical questions but deep inside I still had had this innate need to find some 'dirt' on this Chac-ly, just to balance the ledger! So this white man went digging!

Of course you can't beesmirch a TV character as saintly as Charles Ingalls was because the written character itself would never allow for it. But what about Michael Landon?! I didn't have to dig far to find some measure of manly redemption. Landon died at the age of 54 due to liver and other related cancers, most commonly attributed to the fact that he was a four packet-a-day smoker and a heavy drinker of alcohol. Then I remembered, Charles Ingalls in the show would regularly smoke a pipe! Deliverance at last...a chink in what seemed to be Chac-ly's impenetrable masculine armour and this white man's spine has been that little bit firmer and vertical since!

On a more serious note, how often do we find ourselves craving the ideal utopias we get presented with in life? For in many ways, a Little House on the Prairie is just that - a utopian deeply-held dream and Christian ideal for how living in family and community should be. The near-perfect husband/wife and father/mother raising their well-grounded children in a safe and wholesome community based on flawless Christian values. I asked Phuong if she would have enjoyed to live life back then in a place like Walnut Grove? She replied affirmatively, stating her main reason why - because life was simpler back then. Or in other words, life today just seems to be more complicated and messy. And she's right, it is! But that's real life isn't it - it's grey and blurred where truths get muddied in agendas and politics. A place where the dollar rules and honest integrity is challenged when personal gain is apparent. A place far removed from the majestic oaks and sweetest sentiments of Walnut Grove.

Don't get me wrong though, for this thought won't conclude on such a cynically heartless disrobing of a worthwhile ideal. No episode of Little House... ends that way! Because I have to be honest - I'd like to live in a Little House too and I'd love to be half the man Chac-ly is! I think in some way this is the hope I have - to live in a world a little more saturated with the virtues of God's Kingdom and to be more of a semblance of our world's Creator. There's a place of haven and hope in a Little House on the Prairie and it's been a real pleasure to re-visit that place deep inside this white man's soul...

A Theology of Footy Jumpers

Well it's the last week of September and the rapidly approaching last Saturday in September means only one thing in the city of Melbourne - the Australian Football Grand Final. This year the two combatants who will contest for Australian footballs greatest prize are Collingwood and St Kilda. And again, this white man has mused at how this major event that Australians observe every year transcends from the sporting green grass of physical endeavour into the spiritual hearts of football devotees in a manner truly of religious proportions.

The AFL premiership cup, often referred to as the "holy grail" of ultimate attainment will be wheeled out again today or tomorrow and symbolically blessed in a church service. Tomorrow a Grand Final parade will bring the heart of Melbourne city's CDB to a standstill as thousands of club supporters line the streets to cheer on a motorcade of their footballing stars in a manner similar of the kind of worship Jesus Christ encountered on His entry into Jerusalem on a donkey. They will repeat over and over the clubsongs of their cherished club - hymn-like anthems that fill a space of deep longing somewhere in the soul of the football fan. When people in Australia flippantly say that Australian football is kind of like a religion I'm not sure they realise how close to the truth they really are. The eerie parallels between the celebration of a game to the worship of God are uncanny indeed.

Which brings this white man to the two teams who will etch their mark this Staurday into AFL immortality in this year's Grand Final. Collingwood, the team universally hated by all except their own fanatical followers and St Kilda, a perennial underdog team bereft of success over their history. Collingwood, symbolised by the Magpie and wearing the 'non-colours' of black and white and St Kilda, the Saints also in black and white but with a red strip as well.

The guernseys are symbolic in a deeper spiritual sense than many would realise. Black and white represents absolutes...polarity...extreme this and that. In a Biblical sense this clearly equates with the Law, for it clearly divided right from wrong...worthiness from unworthiness...holiness from the depravity of sin. And it was only through Jesus Christ that in the realm of spirit, the Law could be forever rendered obsolete and done away with. For He ushered in a new spiritual reality, a dimension of forgiveness and freedom, a new covenant of Grace. It came from the Law but was made perfect in and through the blood of Christ, much like a black and white reality now stained with that saving staining crimson flow. Much like the jumpers of Collingwood and St Kilda - similar in every way but differentiated by a strip of red.

Interesting that the St Kilda club are called the Saints...Interesting that their guernsey takes the colours it does...Maybe there really is a deeper spirituality behind all the rough and tumble of Aussie Rules Football...May the best team win!

Read It & Wept!

Was it a Mills & Boon heart-warming tear-jerker? A profound piece of spiritual wisdom from a Palestinian goat-hearder's cave that touched the core of the white man's soul perhaps? Was it Shane Crawford's AFL autobiography that culminated in the fairytale Hawthorn 2008 premiership victory? No, it was this tragic informative news article read yesterday. It may have been passed over by many but not by this white man.

In the financial year ending 30 June 2010, the Victorian government received almost $1.7 billion in gaming taxes and other related fees. Yet it should be noted, as the state premier Mr John Brumby certainly made a point of highlighting, that this incoming revenue is $0.02 billion down on last year's annual intake. Because according to Mr Brumby, the decreased intake in 2010 is all due to the fact that "...we've been doing the right things as a Government." That's right! Doing the right thing equates to a decrease of little over 1% and the Victorian state government still has the audacity to maintain it's predictably trotted-out line that it is not gambling dependant. The total state budget is approximately $34 billion of which $1.7 billion comes from gaming revenue. Well by my poor maths that is 5% of the state's total incoming budget. Now as a pastor I know that churches are well and truly dependant on it's members regular 10% tithe and even if you halved the tithe the church would still need every cent of that 5% to keep going. So are you going to insult thinking Victorian's intelligence Mr Brumby by insisting that our state is not dependant on gaming? Would you willingly write off that 5% income without a even the merest twitch of nervousness? Would you still have your job next week Mr Brumby if you did that?

"...we've been doing the right things as a Government..."

This white man's church sits fairly and squarely right in the heart of the municipality of Maribyrnong. It is a fact that the city of Maribyrnong has the highest electronic gaming machine (EGM) density of all the suburban regions in metropolitan Melbourne outside of the inner-city of Melbourne. The city of Maribyrnong also has the highest expenditure on gaming per adult in it's municipality. Unsurprisingly, unemployment is extreme and relative income per adult in the community rates as one of the lowest in Victoria. And whilst it is true that the local council have taken measures in recent years to lessen their pokie venues and numbers of machines in venues, the disproportionate statistics still remain. Surely it stands to reason that if we have legalised gambling in Victoria then at the very least we would want to be seeing more revenue returning back into relevant problem-gambling services in the community. Do we believe it is a just outcome when such a disproportionate amount of this money goes straight back into the pockets of the already overly wealthy gambling industry?

Come on Brumby, get your numbers right. If the gaming industry pay you half a tithe of your total revenue then at least offer back a more acceptable amount to the services and people whose misery is filling your already-bulging coffers. You can't have it both ways - otherwise we Victorians might all start to believe that you are religiously wringing our pockets dry and treating us as fools in the process. Honestly, it's enough to make a grown white man cry...

Have you really "been doing ALL the right things as a government?"

http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2007/09/11/2029426.htm

True Beating Heart...

In the coming week or two, Australian's will have the very real privilege of watching a special program simply named "Every Heart Beats True..." Now of course, if you are an AFL follower, you will immediately recognise that title, for it is a prominent line in the clubsong of the Melbourne Football Club, the lyric stating in full "every heart beats true for the red and the blue..." But the television expose is not really a story focused on the Melbourne Demons, but rather one of that club's favourite sons, Jim Stynes. More specifically, Jim's recent battle with cancer.

Jim Stynes is one of the real success stories of Australian football. Born and raised in Ireland, he came to Australia as part of an innovative project to recruit Gaelic footballers in Ireland to play Australian football. Few had made the transition successfully but Stynes was a standout - he won Australian Football's greatest individual honour, the Brownlow Medal in 1991 and still holds the all-time record for most consecutive games played without missing a game through injury - 244 games. The awful irony of course is that this iron-man of an athlete who was so indestructible on the field has been so ravaged by disease off the field. But that hasn't stopped the will and determination of Jim Stynes, as the TV story will no doubt highlight.

Much more could be said of Jim Stynes and his remarkable life. One could wax lyrical regarding his charitable concerns, working tirelessly with youth through his Reach charity. But this white man wants to highlight one wonderful quality in Jim Stynes that has come through, not only through the example of his life in general terms but also through this specific amazing revelation. On radio this morning, Jim Stynes revealed that as a part of his regular treatment regime for cancer, he drinks his own urine! He went on to describe how his treatment encompasses "white coat" conventional medication mixed in with alternate therapies and treatments. He also mentioned the fact that he regularly administers coffee enemas to flush out toxins from his body. Now this white man has little idea of the whys, hows and whereforalls of alternate means of medication and treatments for major sicknesses, let alone terminal illnesses. The Vietnamese reliance on regularly applying green oil on their skin for treating everything from muscle aches to the flu is one thing. But drinking one's own urine is something else altogether. So I don't know with any authority if that, as a treatment is effective or not. But that's not the point as far as I'm concerned.

The quality that impresses me most about Jim Stynes is the freedom he has to disclose that he regularly partakes in such a radical treatment. All of us would most likely accept that, when facing such a demon as cancer you would be willing to do just about anything in the hope of extending the quality of your life or even beating the disease. And we may well even be willing enough to go to the lengths of drinking our own urine if we believed that it could help.

But would we ever admit it to the world?

Stynes had this to say specifically on the issue of his cancer and his treatment regime - "I've always tried to be honest. Integrity is the essence of everything. We're never going to be perfect, it's the endeavour that's important," he said. "Why should I be afraid of people seeing who I really am? You've got to walk the talk otherwise you're full of it."

That says to this white man that Jim Stynes is a man very comfortable in his own skin. The self-assurance and integrity of this man is an example to us all. Stynes also had this to say - "When faced with death, the ego just drops its barriers." Self-assured, full of integrity yet humble as well. Who could have known that the man, once a demon could offer such an amazing and inspirational example of personal character.

Jim Stynes, this white man respects you immensely and whatever the outcome of your battle with cancer, you are already a winner because you have left such a positive imprint on people's lives. May God continue to make His face shine upon you Irishman!

The Near Immolation of Decency...

By now, when you hear the name Terry Jones unfortunately you will probably associate that name with the audacious plan to burn hundreds of copies of the holy Quran on September 11 2010. Alternatively, you still may immediately associate the name Terry Jones with Monty Python, given that the British Terry Jones did direct many Monty Python movies. That Terry Jones was genuinely amusing - Pastor Terry Jones from Gainsville, Florida definitely is not. Pastor Jones' idea for the mass incineration of Islam's holiest book was hatched as a protest against plans by an Islamic organisation to erect a Muslim community center/mosque within the Ground Zero precinct in New York City. Of course since then, Muslim spiritual leaders have accepted an alternate building site for the center and Pastor Jones appears to have suspended his church's belligerent bonfire plans. And thank God for that!

This white man feels no need particularly to point out the obvious or even expand on the craziness of Jones' insane plan to torch the Qurans. Enough outrage in the US and around the world has clearly illustrated the depth of ire against Jones and his fellowship, the Dove World Outreach Centre. By the way, how ironic that his church is identified by the dove, an accepted symbol of peace?! What I want to explore is how the thinking and theology of 'evangelical' Christians can find any legitimacy in such adversarial expressions of faith.

First let the white man unequivocally declare his position as an opponent of Christian fundamentalism. Now when I say fundamentalism I refer specifically to those within the Christian world who advocate extreme polaric theologies that rely heavily on perpetuating fear, promoting self-righteousness and discrediting anyone else who has an alternate belief or viewpoint. In other words controlling, fear-mongering, arrogant and narrow-minded Christians. In my opinion at least, this arm of Christendom is the ugly underside of the belief system I embrace as an ideal designed to operate on the basis of peace, tolerance, humility and love. So how does this pure essence of Christian faith mutate into such a sick and twisted expression of religion?

Well the easy answer is just to point out that people are involved with the transmission of faith in the world. And that when people are involved things are inevitably prone to getting 'messed up' and the pure essence of Christianity compromised and lost. But I guess in the barest and simplest of terms, I think this is the core of the fundamentalist mind and heart; having and propagating a theology of fear that seeks to control those around them. This 'fear factor' then naturally produces an "us and them" mentality by drawing distinctions between the 'saved' and 'unsaved' or the 'Godly' and the 'Satanic'. For by doing this the fundamentalists own position is more securely embedded, providing both a feeling of self-assurance and a high ground of superiority to 'others'.

I've just realised how extensive this subject actually is and how lengthy this blog entry could get. So, without getting into a full-blown sermon, this white man simply says this...If Jesus wanted His pastors who shepherd His church to burn the literature of other faiths then He would have either said so or at least provided us an example demonstrating the truth and principle behind such an action. However, the Gospels I read and love show Jesus saying no such thing nor alluding to the legitimacy of such a divisive discordant attitude and/or action. The Jesus I love loved all, regardless of their race, colour or beliefs. The Jesus I worship and value was the greatest exponent of love this world has ever seen - not a hater in any sense of the word. The Jesus I know is a fundamentalist in only one way - He is fundamentally LOVE.

So grow up Pastor Jones and if you dare, re-evaluate the meaning of Christian faith and love. Tolerance is not weakness and acceptance is not compromise. Don't burn with hatred out of fear, be impassioned with the kind of love that embraces difference. Be secure in who you are -don't be so insecure that you need to push away those different to you. And take note - the extremism you advocate in the name of our God makes you no different to the extremists of other creeds who use fear to terrorise the free world. Truthfully, and in every sense of the words, GROW UP! Grow up in your maturity, your faith and the maturity of your faith!

The Shadowlands of Suicide

It's a statistic that jumps out and grabs your conscience in a vice-like grip and squeezes...Seven Australians die every day, not from motor vehicle accidents or skin cancer but from suicide. Seven Australians on a daily basis make the grave decision (no pun intended) to end their existence on this earth and carry through with their final act. 180 other Australians attempt to end their lives without success, perhaps failing in that effort but who is to say that they will not be a part of the morbid roll-call of seven tomorrow. And here's another fact - suicide is now the most likely cause of death for men under 44 years of age and for women under 34 years of age in Australia.

This white man is aware that today just happens to be World Suicide Prevention Day and in Australia at least, social and mental health experts are desperately hoping to reduce the social stigma surrounding this deadly issue. The most frustrating aspect of this social issue is the relative lack of support the issue receives from those influential outside of community and mental health sector. It seems that the lack of attention, both real and fiscal paid by governmental departments is staggering when one considers the harsh truth of "the lucky country's" suicide statistics.

For example, Federal Health Minister Nicola Roxon informed guests at a World Suicide Prevention Day function in Canberra this week that the Government has committed $127 million for suicide prevention to 2011. An impressive contribution it would seem on paper but this white man has learnt that not one cent of that $127m will go to assist upgrading practical prevention measures at some of the most well-known and utilised suicide "hot-spots" around the country. The Woollahra council in NSW would appreciate the $3 million it needs to more effectively safeguard The Gap, probably Australia's most notorious suicide spot overlooking Sydney Harbour. But chances are they may not receive what they need to provide the necessary preventions that suicide-affected parents, mental health agencies and local councils have been requesting for years. And if eventually some of that funding does trickle through then how long will it have taken and at what cost in the meantime? Remember - seven Australians a day...

This white man knows that one can't hold one's breath when it comes to prompt action from government departments in social areas when it's really needed. Asphyxiation would be a certainty! As I speak permanent suicide barriers are starting to appear on Melbourne's Westgate Bridge, another well-known suicide destination. A coroners report in 2004 recommended that these barriers be erected on the Westgate Bridge. After 2008, temporary barriers began to appear with their permanent replacements only appearing in the last few months. Yes, the wheels of bureacracy move slow - even when it comes to the area of suicide prevention. But at least they are moving I guess - but again, in the time that has elapsed, what has been the human cost? Seven a day...

Well this white man hopes that this latest federal funding effort is real and not just electoral froth and bubble. Because we all just need to remember and consider this reality - the seven occupied bodybags that will wheel through the doors of our nations various Coronial morgues today, tomorrow and the next day remain as a dark testament to one of the most despicably untreated and stigmatised issues in Australia today. Being informed is a start...being pro-active in caring may well be your next challenge.

Fed Up & Over Fevola!

This white man believes in the principle that people should be afforded second-chances in life to amend their inadequacies and mistakes. This is a grace principle that should outweigh any legalistic "quick-to-judgement" attitude - well for Christian believers in any case. For that is at the heart of any legitimate Christian testimony - cue John Newton's Amazing Grace, the ageless hymn that reverberates to the core of our soul in and through our Christian faith and experience. This is my heart-felt belief and I try my best to live with integrity and forsaking hypocrisy by sticking with this grace and second-chance principle in alignment with the heart of my God.

But how life always presents challenges to one's best-held values. One such challenge to this white man is an individual named Brendan Fevola. AFL champion footballer, definitively yes...mature role-model and upright citizen of decent moral fibre? Definitively NO! Because it's not just this latest pathetic escapade that has come to light today and seen this buffoon of an individual suspended indefinately by his club for allegedly exposing himself at a family day function. And it's not just a matter of second-chances for Fevola who has had more than his fair share of redemptive hand-ups in life. Honestly, people like Brendan Fevola perplex this white man because they JUST DON'T GET IT and they JUST DON'T GROW UP!

Trust me, I'm not usually one quick to throw stones but how can one help but feel that if only a pebble lay nearby it would be best served travelling with velocity towards Fevola's head just in the hope of knocking some sense into him! He is truly an elite sportsman with the intelligence and decency of an amoeba. But does Fevola deserve another chance? If these latest allegations are proven true should the sporting curtain finally fall on this poor excuse of a man? My heart says he must be given every opportunity to redeem himself as this is the deserved right of any individual breathing the air of this earth. But my head just asks why we should even waste the effort to believe that this guy could ever truly redeem himself in life and finally "get it and grow up".

For the sake of his three young children, who I trust one day can look at their father as their hero and not their embarrassment, I hope Brendan Fevola, one day, can look at himself in the mirror and see worthiness and not the disgrace he currently is. For anyone can move from a place of disgrace into grace if they are willing to accept their frailties and turn things around. Is it in you Fevola? Prove to yourself and your kids that it's possible Brendan! It's never too late to turn things around...

The Red Queen, the Vox Populi and Theocracies?

So Australia's 17 day period of political purgatory has ended. The knife-edge electoral result has been called. The hung parliament that has literally kept a nation suspended in limbo has dropped the Liberal National Coalition through the dreaded trapdoor whilst the ALP and Julia Gillard have been given their gallows reprieve. Well at least until the next election anyway. Much has been said about the process that has seen a handful of independant MP's decide which political party would be entrusted with governing the nation for the next term of government. And it stands to reason that much discussion will continue as the respective decisions of messrs Bandt, Wilkie, Katter, Oakeshott and Windsor will be dissected ad nauseum. But one quote within the excesses of political diatribe over the past two and a half weeks stands out to this white man as worthy of mention. It was Rob Oakeshott, independant MP fo Lyne who had this piece of wisdom as it relates to the recent clandestine and murky trends in political process in the Australian parliament when he said something to the effect of, "sunshine is the best disinfectant for the current status quo of Australian parliamentary process". In other words, through necessary reforms Australian politics needs to take itself out of the shadows of self-indulgent pontifications and processes and open it's doors to the full scrutiny of the Australian people. Well, the Australian PM Julia Gillard, for the purposes of today at least, agrees with this and has decreed that the now duly elected governing ALP will "draw back the curtains and let the sunshine in." Well we'll see about that over the coming months but the essence of that "sunshine sentiment" is a worthy and valid one indeed.

Because despite the long-winded political shenanigans over the past 17 days (not withstanding the four week electoral campaign prior to the hung parliament result), one thing can be agreed on - the democratic processes of this nation, whether you like them or not, always dictates that the voice of the people, the vox populi is heard. And this historic electoral result ensured that generally-speaking, the Australian electorate sent a clear and firm message to both major parties that we are not happy at being continually presented with inept party policies and processes and equally inept leadership. And as such the people spoke and this time this white man has the feeling that the leadership will listen. Well at the very least I trust that the independant MP's influence in the parliament, combined with the slimmest margin of power will hold all processes within the government and opposition parties accountable on behalf of the Australian people. That's why this crazy political result may have more than just a silver lining - it may just bring with it a little ray of sunshine for the sake and benefit of our nation's political integrity.

Which finally brings this white man to the matter of theocracy. What does a theocracy have to do with all the above you ask? Let me explain...recently a young person in church reflected this thought to me as far as church governance is concerned. "Things would be a lot better if all decisions in church were just made by the one person...things would happen a lot quicker... too many people have too much say in decision-making and it's a waste of time to the point that nothing gets decided upon and nothing gets done...there's too much democracy in church - things would be better if we instituted a theocracy instead!"

Well first let it be said, and I believe I reflected this encouragement to the youth who voiced this opinion, that at least this person had the courage of their convictions to express an opinion to their pastor. Many youth these days are so apathetic and non-committal that drawing an opinion out of them is like pulling teeth! But nevertheless, this white man is fairly sure that a theocracy, in accordance with it's definition, is a governmental form that recognises God, or any other deity as it's head. This is usually held within the context of governments ruled by or subject to religious authority and/or it's deity. To the best of my knowledge, all Christian churches, if they are doctrinally true to their Christian identity, would claim to acknowledge God as the only authorised head of our church. No-one in the Christian church is going to argue with that. So we acknowledge the spiritual theocratic right of, and the reality that our God does rule over His Church. But what it seems this young person desires for his church is a spiritual theocracy alongside a practical system of human pastoral autocracy. And many churches these days function in direct alignment with this principle of pastoral leadership. It's the system that has given rise to hierarchical structures of church governance and power, led usually by a senior pastor who has the ultimate voice and power within that community. And for many faith communities this structure seemingly works perfectly - well at least for as long as the pastor at the top carries the duties of his position with due Christian integrity and responsibility. But when such structures break-down how often are people in faith communities told to just "swallow and follow" and that if they don't then they know where the door is?! Autocratic church structures minus principles of democracy can easily end up equalling really uncomfortable, tense churches containing estranged, alienated believers . Surely this kind of unholy equation isn't God's design for His church is it?

So in summary, this white man suggests that if this recent political scenario provides any worthwhile example at all, that perhaps we in the church should be reminded that the voice of the people is a compelling voice indeed. And that the democracy we are blessed to live under in this nation still has a viable and dynamic presence that doesn't stop at the doors of our churches. Yes, democracy sometimes makes things take longer and seem more complicated. But are expedient alternatives more worthy? My wife reminded me in no uncertain terms that a 17 day period of political mediations just would not happen in her homeland. An outcome over there would be more likely to have acquired a solution via fists, bullets and prison cells rather than through dignified conciliation and consultation. So perhaps there really is something in this thing called democracy - it's alternative, whether within the greater society or within the institution called church is just frightening. This white man embraces democracy and always will - even in the church!

But for now this white man also bows down and willingly hails the Red Queen!

Cockroaches...and Jesus!

This white man always finds in interesting to trawl through the technology news on his internet homepage. Today was no exception, reiterating the fact that often the stories found there are more thought-provoking than the main news page. This is what caught the white man's eye - "cockroaches may help beat 'superbugs'". The link to the article is here http://news.ninemsn.com.au/technology/7957121/cockroaches-may-help-beat-superbugs

But in summary, the story highlights current research that appears to support a theory that the antibodies held within the common cockroach may be effective in treating super-resistant strains of infection in humans. So there it is - those filthy, repulsive, dingy-dwelling pests may end up being one of humanity's primary weapons against infections and sicknesses. The bugs we love to annihilate with a shoe or foot stomp could be our hope, our lethal weapon against our 'bugs'. There's a creepy kind of irony in that!

Of course, this principle of the least serving the needs of humanity should come as no surprise to Christian believers. For in Jesus, we have the greatest example of one who was trodden on and, for all intensive purposes became nothing more than a dirty cockroach nailed to a cross with all the repulsiveness of the world's sin upon Him. What an irony...what a miracle, that Jesus the cockroach would also have within His being the ultimate antidote to the most super-resistant and lethal of afflictions - sin. So the next time, just before your shoe comes crushing down to obliterate the next unfortunate cockroach who invades 'your' world, remember that even in the least of what seems to be insignificant or even unworthy of existence there can be some good that you may just benefit from one day!

And remember - even the cockroaches have their created purpose for being...God wouldn't have bothered otherwise!

Fatherhood & Heroism...

This white man has been thinking about fatherhood in the past few days. Fear not, there are no new prospects of fatherhood on the horizon! Our two sons are a blessing and any more blessing would be just greedy...not to mention plain miraculous! No, I've been pondering fatherhood upon seeing the many reminders of the impending Father's Day this Sunday here in Australia. Cards in shops, cheap aftershave lotions for "dashing dads", socks and jocks and so on...all the usual shopping mall trappings celebrating and selling Father's Day.

Watching a recent documentary here on Aussie TV about the story of one of Australian Football's great players, Ben Cousins and his battle with drug addiction also reminded this white man about fatherhood. Because whilst the doco focused on the obvious struggle of an elite athlete dealing with substance abuse, a high-profile sporting career and his life spiralling out of control, in my opinion the real hero of the story was Ben Cousin's father. This pretty ordinary bloke, Bryan Cousins is the father of a champion footballer yet what truly emerged is the fact that Bryan Cousins is a champion father in his own right. He supported his son through dark moments, an uncertain future, even accompanying his son to an 'appointment' to pick up drugs. Bryan Cousins never gave up on his son, no doubt through many times of doubt, fear and disappointment. He would not be moved from his son's side and stood firm for the sake of his son. That's a true father...a true hero.

And then tonight this white man was watching the latest big thing on the Australian small screen, the X Factor. Another talent show for hopeful singers and entertainers, part of the initial charm of such shows as X-Factor is the audition process where we are presented with all sorts of wannabee stars with dreams and aspirations that often outmatch their skills and talent. So contestants are paraded out in all their vocal/theatrical ineptitude much to the collective mirth of a nation well versed in the art of laughing hardest at the easiest of targets. And of course tonight was no exception, but there was one of those 'grey' moments of uneasy tension when the audience and the judges wanted to laugh and dismiss the efforts of just another 'try-hard' but they couldn't really do it because there was a compelling 'story-behind-the-story' happening before them. This 38 year-old Greek man comes out and performs a more-than cheesy rendition of an old Rick Astley pop classic from the 80's. It was a forgettable performance that would usually be written off with a parting cutting shot, usually from that bileduct of a man, Kyle Sandilands. But not this time...why? Because this very ordinary balding, unctuous-looking Greek bloke had his nine year-old son out the back listening intently and appreciating the performance of his dad...his hero. For sure this man would never sell a song in a deafness institute, let alone ever have a hope of selling a CD. But that didn't matter to that young boy out backstage, crying and hugging his dad with pride for what was, in his estimation, the greatest performance since, well...Rick Astley. Because it was about something more than the quality of a song or a well-rehearsed performance - it was about a son first encouraging, then seeing his ordinary dad living a dream...being a hero...his hero...his dad.

And so this white man is reminded that there is something very powerful in the way that a son can see his father. Sons want to see their dads as their heroes; actually they need to see them that way. And the same for daughters as well with their fathers and mothers. Traditionally I don't pay that much attention to events like Mother's Day and Father's Day, not because I'm uncaring or lacking in sentiment but simply because every day should celebrate such remembrances. That's a lesson taught to me by my own parents that remains as their legacy. Yet this Father's Day I will hold this truth close to my heart - that my sons look to me as a hero...their hero. And that I'm balding, I'm 38 and I'm not much of a singer, but I am a dad and my sons don't need a Pavarotti but they do deserve a hero!

And have a Happy Father's Day Dad!

Abstract Thinking...

This white man has always prided himself on being a person who has the propensity to "think outside the box". I've always viewed narrow-mindedness as the curse of simpletons and, as a pastor always encouraged the youth of my fellowship to expand their thinking laterally and beyond. For this white man is convinced that our Creator's intention for His creations is to have a like-mind like Him. A creative mind...a limitless imagination...a soul that can embrace all life's mysteries and more...Too often I lament church fellowships that seem to have a drop-in box at their church entrances for members to dutifully place their brains inside before they can enter in to worship and engage intelligently with God's Word! The faith in Jesus we have as Christians is a precious thing...so is the intelligence He created us with to use wisely and judiciously.

Anyway, all that being said, this white man was suitably impressed tonight over dinner when his youngest offspring decided to prove the measure of his 7 year-old abstract mind. Like a "chip off the old block" young Luc demonstrated that perhaps the power of an open-mind may well be genetic. It started with a simple party pie that Luc complained was too hot to eat and too messy for his clean fingers. It ended with a straw stuck in his party pie as he syphoned out all of that 'healthy' meaty goodness through that plastic straw, leaving the empty husk of a pastry shell as testament to his creative genius. No mess...too easy! The party pie may have been left empty but Luc's glass of creativity is very much full!

I Am Not Forgotten...Anywhere!

No-one likes being forgotten. Your birthday missed or your invitation to a party overlooked... regardless of the lapse, being forgotten kicks you that touch harder than other knocks in life. Maybe it stings that little bit more because being forgotten makes one feel a bit insignificant and unworthy. Like you're unimportant and so obviously invisible enough to be disregarded.

Last Sunday night at church our young adults group, otherwise known as CONNECT convened for our fortnightly gathering. As is often our want, we decided as a group to eat out and the most convenient venue of choice was that well known pizza franchise La Porchetta. And so off we went with this white man salivating at the prospect of a good La Porchetta Original pizza. And we get to the restaurant and the pre-meal rituals of menu examination and gathering condiments such as chilli and tabasco sauce were carried out without much fuss. And then it happened...a dark realisation hit us hard...where was Anh? One of our young adults was unaccounted for. I asked the drivers, who did he travel with? None could confirm that he'd travelled with anyone. And the truth dawned with a heaviness in this white man's ample winter gut - he'd been left back at church. Probably in the toilet for that was the only explanation possible. And so I visualised this poor fellow sitting there in his cubicle minding his own business when the lights would have suddenly switched off, plunging him into pitch blackness. And after finishing his task, he would have stumbled out into our foyer only to be greeted by dark silence and definitely no pizza. He didn't have a car and he was locked in the church grounds as the front gate had been locked. This young man had been forgotten!

One of the group travelled back to church and found the young man walking home on the dark, bad streets of Footscray. Eventually he made it to La Porchetta and after profuse apologies and, this white man will admit some laughter, his pizza was paid for by us all. And my suspicion was confirmed - he was going about his business when all of a sudden his quiet moment of solitude literally turned very dark! Fortunately he had enough moonlight through a window in there to conclude his oblutions! Forgotten in the toilet...does it get any worse than that?

Besides the practical lesson this white man learnt the other night to always check the church toilets before locking up I was also reminded of a deeper truth. Regardless of where we find ourselves in life we are never forgotten by our God. Even when we're knee-deep in life's effluent and lost in the struggles that life brings, our God never forsakes or forgets us. We are never far from His mind and never disregarded as insignificant or worthless. A simple truth yes, and the reminder given in less than ideal circumstances, but isn't that God's way? So there it is - I am not forgotten, He know's my name! And there are no toilet doors in this entire universe that can obscure us from God's love!

Hung Up On An Election!

Another election was called for; another Saturday feverishly spent at the polling booth exercising one's democratic right as an Australian citizen. We all anticipated a close election result - many saying that Australia's choice between the Coalition's Tony Abbott and ALP's Julia Gillard was more accurately a choice of who appears less incompetent. But this white man wasn't sure Australians neither anticipated or were ready for the constitutional mess we find ourselves in now. For neither major party gained the necessary number of seats to claim a majority nor a clear mandate to claim government. And so it seems, at least for now that Australia has a hung parliament. The first time this has happened in Australia's political history since WW2, some 70 years ago. So what happens now this white man asks?

What happens now is shameless sycophantism...Now we see the flame-haired Judas, Julia Gillard and the human-Speedo, Tony Abbott charming and petitioning those 4-5 independent members who now hold the balance of power in the lower house of parliament. "Choose me!"..."No! choose me!" Well this white man says "choose what?" Choose a party that has governed for only one term and has clearly lost the confidence of the majority of Australians who elected them? Lost confidence for good reason I add - the ALP's litany of disasters over the past three years in office has been terrible. Or do you choose the Coalition, a party with heavy iron-fisted policies on just about everything from asylum seekers to workplace relations. And with a leader who admits to not always telling the truth (not that he's alone in Canberra's honesty stakes)?

For sure this white man understands why this election saw the highest amount of informal or 'donkey' votes recorded. Because when you've only got donkeys to choose from then where else is your vote going to go?! I say put the donkeys out to pasture...perhaps a GREEN pasture?!

Wearing the Wrong Shoes?

There can be no doubt that making the transition from one country, with it's prevailing culture to another land with a profoundly vast and differing worldview provides a challenging experience. Hence, the experience of many migrants coming to Australia also presents it's own series of challenges and life-lessons. And this is equally true of the Vietnamese community that now enjoys a better standard and quality of life here in Australia. With the majority of Vietnamese migrants to Australia having arrived here as refugees, most with horrific and deeply traumatic stories as their predominant baggage, stories of pain and hardship are being transformed into testimonies of success and prosperity. Generally, the first-generation of Vietnamese arrivals to Australia have worked extremely hard to establish themselves and their families into the greater community. They have created a materially secure foundation for their future generations to build upon. And for many of those original Vietnamese refugees, their hope continues to rest with their Australian born children and grandchildren. For these generations are endowed with a world of opportunity to succeed and get ahead in life in a way the first generation never had the chance to.

And yet, within this optimistic picture of arrival, consolidation, hard-work, opportunity, success, wealth and security, there is also a shadow-side which second and third generation Vietnamese in Western countries consistently endure. It is the flash-point in conflicting cultures surrounding the issue of parental desires for their children's future as opposed to that actual persons individual wishes for their future. This murky grey area of conflict was highlighted again recently in the tragic case of a 31 year-old Vietnamese American man who in a fit of rage strangled his mother. This story is highlighted in full at this link: http://www.nguoi-viet.com/absolutenm/anmviewer.asp?a=108035&z=19

It seems that for that man, the burden of his mother's demands in dictating his future became too much and he snapped in a moment of violent madness. It may well be that other factors were also relevant to this case but nevertheless, the issue was well and truly reiterated - the Asian cultural practice of dictating to your child as a parent their study and career paths can have dramatic consequences. Especially so when this cultural expectation clashes with the Western ideal of individualistic choice in determining one's own future.

There is an old Nordic tale of a native indigenous man who lived in the wild, snowy wilderness near the Arctic circle in northern Norway. He had only ever lived in snow and as a result he only ever wore snow shoes - footwear that resembles the frame of a tennis racquet. This footwear served the purpose of his getting around on foot in the snow and it was all he knew. Now for some reason this man found himself needing to go to Oslo, the capital city of Norway. He packed his few belongings and got a train down to a civilisation he had never encountered before. He disembarked the train and started to walk in his snow shoes towards the exit gate. But he was not walking very well and eventually he tripped over, not just once but two, three and four times. He was walking in his snow shoes on dry land and he had never walked on land without a covering of snow before. An interested and somewhat amused on-looker advised the man that he should take off his snow shoes or else he would find it extremely difficult to get around Oslo. He even offered the native a pair of shoes to help him. But the man refused the offer - he would not take off his snow shoes and he struggled on regardless. He was too proud to admit his footwear was inadequate for his new surroundings and too fearful to remove that which he had walked with his entire life.

As the Vietnamese community here in Australia, it would be wise sometimes to reflect whether or not we are wearing the wrong shoes around for the land we now inhabit. For when it comes to approaching the issue of what our second and third generations desire for their futures here in Australia, perhaps the most appropriate support we can offer them is to step back and allow them to pursue their own vocational aspirations. This may be a humbling experience and will most likely go against every cultural instinct we've grown up with but it is the correct path to take. For if the first generation of Vietnamese can not give up their vicarious dreams for their children, then maybe they risk losing the love and respect of their children altogether. Parents - is the doctor, lawyer or pharmacist aspiration for your child worth the pain of a broken relationship? Is it a cross you are placing on your child that is not just overbearingly heavy but just plain wrong? Is your comparison of your family's status to others ultimately healthy, let alone fulfilling? 2 Corinthians 10: 12 that reminds us "we do not dare to classify or compare ourselves with some who commend themselves. When they measure themselves by themselves and compare themselves with themselves, they are not wise. "

Perhaps it's timely again to check what shoes you are wearing for this cultural terrain called Australia. And perhaps it is time you removed the heavy cross of your own dream-fulfillment you've burdened your children with. Perhaps it's time to let go of this truly self-centred part of yourself and open your eyes to a different way of thinking in this land of freedom and opportunity. Have you still got your snow shoes on?