Five loaves, two fishes, and a pocketful prayers

Here we are in lockdown again, and life is feeling small. We don’t see enough people; we don’t share enough meals; we don’t get enough exercise; the walls are beginning to close in. Even when lockdown eases, we know from previous experience that it will take time and energy to reengage with the world. We’ll have new restrictions to navigate and new fears to manage. And after all these months of infrequent socialising, some of us will decide that it’s all too hard; we’ll choose to stay home.

Read here, or listen  here.

Friends beyond any binary

Male + Female. Gay + Straight. Trans + Cis. Black + White. Neurodiverse + Neurotypical. Progressive + Conservative. Catholic + Protestant. Believer + Unbeliever. And I could go on with the binaries. We live in a world which loves to label people. Sometimes, labels can be incredibly helpful; they can provide a lens to understand ourselves and other people. But all too often, labels are used to make insiders and outsiders; they are used to condemn and exclude ...

Read here or listen here.

Joining the sacred dance

One of my happiest childhood memories were church barn dances. Once or twice a year on a Saturday night, we’d gather in the hall with a dance caller and bush band; and off we’d go with a do-se-do and twirl your partner! Adults, teens and children stepped and galloped, wove and spun, stumbling and laughing and moving down the line. Towering blokes swung little kids around; teenagers dominated the Nutbush; and the oldest folk clapped along from the sidelines. Some of us were wonderful dancers; most of us were not: but the dance held us all ...

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No authority but Christ

Back when it was legal in Victoria, we had a couple of school families over for dinner. We lit a big fire in the fire pit; cooked up a storm; and gathered around our long table for a meal. We chatted and told stories, and gradually the talk turned to politics. At this point, one of my teenage daughters entered the conversation; and she set out her strong and considered opinion on the intersection of power and violence ...

Read here or listen here.

Menstruation, miscarriage and the multitude robed in white

Like me, my mother was an ordained Baptist minister; but unlike me, she had endometriosis. Among other things, this meant that her menstrual periods were excruciatingly painful, and came upon her suddenly, in great floods. And so my childhood is studded with high stress memories of her period suddenly starting while we were out. There'd be an intake of breath, then a quick hissed exchange between my parents, then a frantic search for a public toilet before disaster struck ... 

Read here or listen here.

Liturgy for the longest night

Tonight we gathered around a fire pit in the church carpark (current COVID restrictions put the kybosh on a bonfire in a local paddock); and we marked the winter solstice. You can read the liturgy here.

The parable universe

The kingdom of God is like a Facebook post with zero 'likes' ... a man who leaves the workforce ... a woman who fears she's lost her marbles. Read here or listen here.