Wednesday, 11 October 2017

Announcing my new book: The Better Angels of our Nature.



I'm announcing the publication of my new book, my first work of book-length fiction.  It's an example of the variety of historical fiction known as a "counterfactual" or an "alternate history".  It raises the questions:
  • What if Abraham Lincoln chose not to go to war to preserve the Union?
  • What if Lincoln lived to his 80s, including a number of years spent in Britain and Australia?
  • What if the vast land area between Mexico and Canada was, from 1861 to 1926, the location of not one, nor two, but five different nations?
  • What if both slavery and polygamy persisted in the Empire of Texas for a generation longer than they did anywhere else in North America?
  • What if such Europeans as Florence Nightingale, Alfred Dreyfus, and Dickens's "Tiny Tim" all spent time on the North American continent?
  • What if those who died during the Spanish Influenza epidemic in 1918 included a psychiatric patient in a Georgia hospital named John Wilkes Booth and an inmate in a prisoner-of-war camp in Pennsylvania named Adolf Hitler?
I hope you like it.  It's now available for purchase on Amazon.  And you can go to my book's page by clicking this link. 

Monday, 9 October 2017

Why I won't be celebrating Reformation Day on the 31st of October

I'm not planning to celebrate the 500th anniversary of the beginning of the Reformation on the 31st of October.

I recognise that, in many ways, I'm a child of the Reformation.
  • I celebrate the fact that the denomination of which I'm a member and a minister (the Uniting Church in Australia) ordains and commissions both women and men to every ministry within the church, without exception.
  • I celebrate the fact that the denomination of which I'm a member and a minister has committed each of its congregations to provide a safe and welcoming community for LGBT people.
  • I recognise that congregational singing is an important part of worship for me, and I further recognise that the hymns which cause the hairs on the back of my neck to particularly stand at attention are such Reformation-era German hymns as "Now thank we all our God..." and "Praise to the Lord, the Almighty...". 
  • Above all, I celebrate that a commitment to an "open table" is a reality that is deep within the DNA of the vast majority of congregations within my denomination.
In all these ways, I'm a child of the Reformation, and I know it.

Nevertheless, I choose not to celebrate the 500th anniversary of the Reformation on this coming 31st of October, for a number of reasons.

1.  I take issue with the notion, strong in some "Protestant" circles,
that "getting your theology right" is an essential precondition to a healthy relationship with God.  Now, I know that this was never taught by Luther, even if Calvin came close to it.  When Luther wrote about "faith", he meant a bedrock trust in God's radical grace.  Over the centuries, though, many "Protestants" have promoted the idea that those who "get their theology wrong" are somehow destined to become fuel for an eternal BBQ.  I refuse to celebrate this destructive idea.

2.  I also take issue with the way that Luther's idea of sola scriptura ("Scripture alone") has been used to turn the Bible into almost an idol in some "Protestant" churches.  I believe that the person of faith should take the scriptures "seriously, but not literally" (as an advertisement for one congregation once said).  The scriptures are a sourcebook for faith, with which the person of faith should engage in on-going dialogue, with the dialogue occasionally becoming robust debate, if not a knock-down, drag-out brawl (metaphorically speaking, of course).  Turning the scriptures into an infallible oracle, or a idol, is simply an abuse of scripture.  I refuse to celebrate this destructive idea as well.

3.  I also take issue with the way that worship has merely become a teaching event in so many "Protestant" churches.  Now, I'm not talking about the "megachurch" experience in many "evangelical" churches where a congregation's Sunday gatherings are part second-rate pop music gig, part motivational speaker, and part political rally.  That particular liturgical atrocity is far outside the experience of most of the churches I know. 

My concern is with the congregations within the "Protestant" mainstream where the teaching-learning dimension of worship dominates every other aspect of worship.  This happens regardless of a congregation's denomination or theological emphasis.  This happens regardless of whether the congregation's worship style is a 1950s "preaching service", a 1970s "all-age family service", a 1990s "Fresh Expression", or the standard-issue Uniting Church  "blended-blanded" service (where the highlight of Sunday morning is usually the refreshments following the service).  In all these, the teaching element of worship predominates.

I believe that people who choose to attend worship in our day do so with the intention of experiencing communion with the God worshipped by the congregation, not merely to "learn things about religion".  I do not choose to celebrate a state of affairs in which worship has been so marginalised.

4.  Finally and in my mind most importantly, the divided state of the Christian Church today is a continuing scandal.  A particular scandal is the inability of any Christian to fully participate in the Eucharist / Lord's Supper / Holy Communion / Mass in many other gatherings of Christians for worship.  I refuse to celebrate a divided Christian church.  Therefore, I refuse to celebrate the 31st of October.

Monday, 24 July 2017

“Taking Care of the Family Business”: a sermon (Genesis 29:15-28)

“Taking Care of the Family Business” . . .
. . . or is that . . .
. . . “Taking Care of the Family Bidness”?

In some parts of the United States, particularly the Southwest, the word business is often pronounced “bidness”, as if it were spelled b-i-d-n-e-s-s.  For example, you’ll hear the word “bidness” if you watch an old episode of Dallas.  Ol’ J.R. Ewing, he was quite a bidness-man.

And, in a real sense, it’s not just a question of a regional pronunciation, but a difference of ethical attitudes.  Business and bidness are two different things.
  • Both business and bidness are about making a profit, of course.
  • Business is also about producing a good product and providing ood jobs.  People like Bill Gates, Warren Buffett, or Sir Richard Branson are involved in business.
  • Bidness, on the other hand, is about wheeling and dealing and trying to pull off a fast one on the other person.  Perhaps we can say that bidness is primarily about “The Art of the Deal”.

In the negotiations between Jacob and Laban, Laban was trying to do a bit of bidness with Jacob.  And Jacob fell for it.

Now, it’s not as if Jacob was a total innocent himself when it came to bidness.  This is the man who conned his hungry brother into trading his birthright for a bowl of soup.  This is the man who conned his almost-blind father into giving him the blessing reserved for his brother.  Jacob was not an innocent here.  He knew how to wheel and deal.  Jacob knew how to do bidness. 

But this time, Laban did the wheeling and the dealing, and Jacob was on the receiving end of the bidness.  Here’s how it happened.

Jacob was on the run.  His brother Esau was angry once he realised the extent to which Jacob cheated him.  He made his way to the home of his uncle Laban, his mother’s brother.  Laban had two daughters, Rachel and Leah.  The writer describes both daughters.
  • Rachel, the younger daughter, was “graceful and beautiful”
  • Her older sister Leah, we are told, had nice eyes.  (Perhaps the writer was being diplomatic, and focusing on one notably good feature.)

Jacob, being a red-blooded young bloke, fell for Rachel.  It doesn’t say anywhere what feeling either of the sisters had for Jacob.  It didn’t seem to be the kind of question that the writer would have thought important.  It was a culture which practiced arranged marriage - and polygamy.  Such cultures rarely asked how a young girl felt about a prospective suitor. 

Anyway, Jacob and Laban agreed that Jacob would work for Laban for seven years in exchange for Rachel’s hand in marriage.  Seven years of work later, it was time for a wedding.  It was only when the heavy - and opaque - veil was lifted from the bride’s face in the marital boudoir that Jacob realised, “This woman is Leah!  Laban has done some bidness with me!”

A few angry words passed the next morning between son-in-law and father-in-law.  And then it was time for bidness.  The following deal was wheeled by Laban:   A second wedding will happen in a week’s time.  And this time the bride will be Rachel.  In return, Laban will get seven more years of unpaid work from Jacob.

Again, there’s nothing about the opinions and feelings of either Rachel or Leah on these arrangements.

The story continued (with a good deal of bidness from all concerned). 
  • A rivalry developed between the sisters as to which one could provide Jacob with more sons. 
  • Jacob, through some creative management of Laban’s flock of sheep, found himself with a bigger (and healthier) flock than Laban.
  • Jacob and his (by-now very large) family fled from Laban’s house with their possessions (along with some of Laban’s possessions).
  • Laban caught up with Jacob at a place called Mizpah, where they finally parted company.

Now, I can remember when some church groups – particularly some women’s fellowship groups - traditionally ended their meetings by reciting together something they called “the Mizpah Benediction”.  In the language of the old King James Version, it goes like this:  “The Lord watch between me and thee while we are absent, one from the other.” 

This was a statement made by Laban to Jacob in this passage, but it wasn’t a blessing in anyone’s imagination.  In its context, what Laban said to Jacob at Mizpah was: 

“I’ve conned you.
You’ve conned me.
Even if we don’t trust each other
any further than we can throw each other,
let’s call it a draw.
Let God be the witness that the bidness is over.” 

(I find it more than vaguely amusing that the statement is often used as a benediction.)

“The Lord watch between me and thee while we are absent, one from the other.” 

So, Laban did bidness with Jacob ... and Jacob did bidness with Laban.  And, surprisingly enough, God is in the midst of it somewhere.  

God has this commitment, you see, to humanity, warts and all:
  • not just when we’re at our most presentable,
  • not just when we’re at our most ethical,
  • not just when we’re at our most religious,
  • but all the time.

God is always in our midst.  Jacob eventually found this out.  (Even if it took a wrestling match with a mysterious stranger and a dislocated hip before the lesson sunk in.  That’s in the lesson from Genesis next week.)  

So we have a story about a wheeler-dealer, who was occasionally wheeled and dealed himself.  The story is also about the living God who is always present in our midst, even when we assume - by our actions - by our bidness - that God is absent.
  • God is in our midst, offering love, even when we’re not at our most loveable
  • God is in our midst, even when we’re in the midst of bidness.
  • God is in our midst, confronting us - and confronting all people - when our bidness leads to harm to others.
  • God is in our midst, transforming us into people who are about the true business of life:  doing justice, loving mercy, walking humbly with our God and our neighbour.

Wednesday, 19 July 2017

Being a person of two nationalities

Like many people here in Australia, I was flabbergasted with the resignations, in rapid succession, of (first) Senator Scott Ludlam and (then) Senator Larissa Waters for the reason that they both recently learned that they were ineligible to sit in the Australian Senate because, in addition to being Australians, Senator Ludlum was also (shock, horror!) a New Zealander and Senator Waters was also (also shock, horror!) a Canadian.  Given an old (and, in my humble opinion, outdated) provision in the Australian Constitution, people holding dual citizenship are ineligible to sit in either house of the Australian Parliament.

OK, OK, they should have checked it out, but it appears that both acted in good faith.  Each seemed to believe honestly, prior to this week, that their Australian citizenship was their sole citizenship.  And this thing has been a running political sore here in Australia for years.  Politicians of all sorts and conditions, regardless of their party or their ideology, have innocently run foul of this outdated constitutional provision.

The fact that they were both articulate members of the more pragmatic wing of Australia's left-of-centre Green Party is also curious.  I hope this doesn't mean that the "fundamentalist" wing of the Greens will use this as their chance for a political comeback.  To the members of the Parliamentary Greens, I'd say (paraphrasing Oscar Wilde) "To lose one of your best members is a misfortune.  To lose two seems like carelessness."

But, anyway, this affects many of us.  There are some nations whose citizenship, once acquired by birth is almost impossible to lose.  The Italian government, for example, has a number of parliamentary seats for representatives of Italians living abroad.  Many Australian males of Greek heritage are reluctant to visit the land of their parents' (or even grandparents') birth during their young adult years, even for the wedding or funeral of a close family member, for fear of being drafted.  (This may be - at least partially - an urban myth, as every version of this story I've heard begins with the words "This happened to a friend of a friend .....", but you get the idea.)

However, this is all part of my own story.  In January of 1980, I flew from the United States to Australia when invited to accept a position as a member of a ministry of a Uniting Church parish in Tasmania.  I stayed.

For anyone who left the nation of their birth to move to some other country, and then stayed permanently, there is a sense of mental and emotional dual nationality, even if there is no legal dual nationality.  Personally, while I've lived here in Oz for more than half my life, I'm still enough of a Yank to celebrate Thanksgiving Day every year, to support the Mets and the Steelers, and to get a tingle down the spine when singing "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" or "We Shall Overcome".

It moves in three stages.
  • The first stage lasts about two to four years, or at least until the first visit to the "old country".  You are filled with nostalgia for the country you left and find everything different about your new land rather objectionable.
  • After this, there's another stage, which lasts about ten years or so.  You are not really "at home" in either country.
  • Finally, after about twelve to fifteen years, you regard yourself as being "at home" in either country and (even better) moving towards becoming a "citizen of the world".
From my perspective, the angst of the first two stages is well worth the sense of global integration found in the third.

And, really, for a person of dual nationality (whether legally or emotionally), particularly when the countries are both democracies with friendly relations with each other, the only time we really experience any conflict of interest in our loyalties is when teams representing the two nations play each other in the Olympics or some other international sporting competition.

Anyway, Scott, enjoy some "fush and chups" in your post-political career.  Take some time, Larissa, to go "oot and aboot".  Know that there are also plenty of us who, while not legally of dual nationality, are still people of mental and emotional dual nationality.   Welcome to the tribe.

Wednesday, 28 June 2017

Some thoughts from the recent results from the 2016 Australian census (particularly from the "religion"section)

Well, last year's census results were released yesterday, and there's some interesting reading (at least for those of us who are interested in that sort of thing).

One of the most commented-upon facts from the census was the fact that, on the question of religious affiliation, 30% listed themselves as "no religion", up from 22% in the census five years ago.  I think there are some interesting possible reasons for this jump in the numbers.

One reason, in my opinion, for the growth in the number of the officially non-religious would be the growing scandal involving child sex abuse, and particularly the negligent and inept response by many religious leaders to this problem.  When the same conservative religious leaders who (actively or passively) tolerated paedophilia also get hot under the collar about other sex-related issues (only this time involving consenting adults), many people decide that these faith leaders need to experience the adult equivalent of being called into the headmaster's office for a serious chewing-out.  I believe that, for some of the 30%, listing themselves as "no religion" was their way of administering a well-deserved public bollocking to Australia's would-be Savonarolas, John Knoxes, Rasputins, Obadiah Slopes, and Elmer Gantrys.  (As well, this may be another good reason to reconsider my "modest proposal" from last year that all Christian churches in Australia undertake a voluntary moratorium on public comments about sex until all faith communities worldwide have satisfactorily dealt with the issues of child sex abuse.)    (1)

Another section of the 30% may be those whom the churches have seriously failed.
  • Some may be those who are survivors of child sex abuse in faith-related contexts, or family members / friends of survivors / victims.
  • Others may be those who were refused Communion by their church because of their marital status or their sexuality.
  • Others may be those who tried to present a child for Baptism, but were told they couldn't do so because they didn't attend worship frequently enough.  (Or they may have been the child who was rejected.)
  • Others may have been aware of family members who were treated badly by their churches back in the pre-ecumenical "bad old days" when they married a person from a different denomination or a different faith tradition.
  • Others may have found that over-exposure to "hellfire and damnation" preaching in their youth led to a lifetime of low self-esteem (or even more serious mental health issues).
There are those in the community whom the churches have seriously failed.  In the light of this serious pastoral ineptitude, can we blame them if some choose to list themselves as "no religion" on the census?

Looking more particularly at Tasmania, where the percentages listing a religious affiliation are even lower, there are some distinctly Tasmanian factors at work here.
  • The fact that we have a far more "Anglo" population than the rest of Australia may suggest that we also have a far more secular population.
  • As well, the fact that we have a far higher percentage of working-class people than the rest of the country may also indicate that we have a lesser rate of religious affiliation.
  • Also, the leadership of the two largest Christian denominations in Tasmania has become far more theologically and socially conservative than the bulk of their lay membership in recent years and, as a result, are increasingly perceived by the wider community as out-of-touch with the community. Many people who once would have identified on the census with the denomination in which they were brought up are less likely to bother doing so.

As a minister of religion myself, albeit a retired one, I think all of this may be a challenge to the churches - around Australia and here in Tasmania - to lift our pastoral game.



(1)   Please note that this paragraph was written and posted a day before a senior figure in a major Christian denomination in Australia was charged with offenses relating to the sexual abuse of minors.  As a result, this paragraph was not a comment on those charges which, at present, are sub judice.   

Sunday, 11 June 2017

Enjoying the Trinity: a sermon for Trinity Sunday

It’s good to be back in the pulpit at All Saints’ once again. 

I’d like to thank Father David for the invitation to preach on Trinity Sunday.  The invitation may have originated in a comment that I made to him two weeks ago, when I said that, on Trinity Sunday, I normally make it my business to attend worship in congregations that regard the Trinity as an occasion for joyful celebration, rather than as a theological problem to solve or a theological embarrassment to somehow explain away. … Here goes.

Let us pray.

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord our strength and our redeemer.  Amen.

If today’s Eucharist was an episode of Sesame Street, we could say that our liturgy today was brought to us by the number three.  We celebrate God-as-Trinity, with the unity of the Three and the diversity of the One.  

Today, I’d like to mention (briefly) three reasons for us to go overboard in celebrating our affirmation of God-as-Trinity.

Affirming God-as-Trinity reminds us that our faith has never stopped developing, and that it keeps on developing.

If you read any of the scripture lessons for Trinity Sunday in any year of the lectionary, you won’t hear any definite statement about the Trinity.  Instead, you’ll hear hints about the Trinity,
  • such as Paul blessing the Corinthians in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,
  • such as Jesus calling his disciples to baptise in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
There’s a good reason for this.  The Christian belief in the Trinity really developed after the Scriptures were completed.  As important as the Trinity is for Christian faith, it’s definitely post-biblical.  And that’s OK.

Our faith as Christians has never been static.  It has never reached a point where it stopped developing and where we can say, “Here it is.  Here’s our faith in its final and definitive form.”

Affirming God-as-Trinity reminds us that our faith has never stopped developing, and that it keeps on developing.

Affirming God-as-Trinity reminds us that it is a good thing for us to use our minds in service to our faith.

The last time I preached here, I referred to the importance of our using our minds in service to our faith.  I spoke of Hercule Poirot and his “little grey cells”, and how it’s important for us all to use our “little grey cells” in service to our faith.  We don't need to check in our minds at the church door.

Our affirmation of God-as-Trinity is the result of generations upon generations of Christian thinkers using their “little grey cells” to make sense of the relationship of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and how this relationship relates to us as people of faith.

Affirming God-as-Trinity reminds us that it is a good thing for us to use our minds in service to our faith.

Affirming God-as-Trinity reminds us, clearly and unambiguously, that “God is love”.

For many children, that brief, three-word verse “God is love.” would be the first words from Scripture they learned.  And these words are true.

And these words are also a profound theological statement.  When we affirm God-as-Trinity, we state that a loving relationship is at the heart of God’s very being.  The love of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit for one another is the source of our very being.  The love of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit for one another spills over into love for the whole universe.  “God is love.”

This is the theme of the famous Russian icon by Andrei Rublev on the bookmarks that Father David has given you today.  The Trinity is depicted as three people sitting at a table sharing a meal together.  They are three distinct figures, whose oneness is seen in their arrangement as a circle and in their identical faces:  identical, youthful, androgynous faces.  And there’s a fourth seat at the table: a seat for you, … for me, … for all the world.    The love of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit for one another spills over into love for the whole universe.  “God is love.”



And, as we affirm that “God is love’, we are also called to deny the popular distortion of our faith that says that God is somehow less than love. 
  • Sometimes these distortions are forwarded by people seeking to rubbish the life of faith (as we sometimes find in letters to the editor in the newspaper). 
  • Sometimes these distortions are forwarded by those seeking to promote a legalistic understanding of faith (as we sometimes find in letters to the editor in denominational magazines). 
In either event, the distortions are wrong and it’s the task of all of us - not only those of us who are ordained, not only those of us who have a theological education, but all of us - to challenge these distortions (and to ask "What part of 'God is love' don't you understand?") “God is love.”

Affirming God-as-Trinity reminds us, clearly and unambiguously, that “God is love”.

And so,
  • Affirming God-as-Trinity reminds us that our faith has never stopped developing, and that it keeps on developing.
  • Affirming God-as-Trinity reminds us that it is a good thing for us to use our minds in service to our faith.
  • Affirming God-as-Trinity reminds us, clearly and unambiguously, that “God is love”.
Thanks be to God, the Trinity of Love.  Amen.

 
(Don't worry, Dame Maggie, I didn't use the word, but I used the idea.)

Tuesday, 9 May 2017

"And now abideth liberty, equality, and fraternity, these three; but the greatest of these is fraternity."

Late in 1988, I spent a semester at the Irish School of Ecumenics in Dublin, studying ecumenical and interfaith theology.  One of the subjects our group studied was a unit in what Catholic seminaries call "moral theology" and what "Protestant" seminaries call "Christian ethics".  It was taught by the Rev. Professor Enda MacDonagh from Maynooth. 

One of the things I remember from Fr. MacDonagh's lectures, in addition to his phrase "Kingdom values and virtues", was his attempt to relate Paul's ideals of "faith, hope, and love" (from 1st Corthinians 13) to the French Revolution's ideals of "Liberté, egalité, fraternité" (liberty, equality, and fraternity).  (It was a year before the celebrations of the 200th anniversary of the liberation of the Bastille, so many Europeans were becoming French Revolution-minded at that time - at least in terms of the French Revolution before it turned nasty under Robespierre.)

The link between "faith" and "liberté", to my memory, was the hardest to get a handle on.  As I remember, it had to do with trust:  with "faith" involving a radical trust in the compassion of God and with "liberté" involving a similar trust in the democratic wisdom of one's fellow-citizens (a trust that is difficult to achieve following 2016's Brexit and Trump fiascos, but a bit easier following Monsieur Macron's recent victory).

"Hope" and "egalité" are both future-oriented.  In hope, we look for the wholeness of God's reign, happening in God's good time.  With "egalité", we look for the emergence of a just and fair human society, and seek to build such a society incrementally.

"Love" and "fraternité" seemed to me to be the most closely related.  For Paul, the profound love (Greek, agapé; Hebrew, hesed; Latin, caritas) of God for humanity needs to spill over into a universal compassion (and universal solidarity) on our part toward all humanity.  This universal compassion and solidarity is also affirmed in the idea of "fraternité".  This "fraternité" was also celebrated in Schiller's poem "An die Freude", as later set to music in Beethoven's Ninth Symphony:  "...All people become family. ... You millions, I embrace you!  This kiss is for all the world...." (free translation).  Without this compassion, there is no faith or hope.

And, ultimately, I believe that the heart of it all is "fraternité".  To paraphrase Paul (or, at least, Paul as poetically rendered by the 17th century KJV translators), "And now abideth liberté, egalité, and fraternité, these three; but the greatest of these is fraternité."

"Liberté" without "fraternité" is a false "liberté".  Today many people believe that the heart and soul of "free speech" is merely the right of some loudmouth in a pub, takeaway shop, radio studio, or (sadly) pulpit to make a racist, sexist, homophobic, islamophobic, or antisemitic comment without challenge.  That rubbish isn't "liberté".

"Egalité" without "fraternité" is a false "egalité".  In most western democracies, populist political movements (whether within or outside the major parties) make extravagant economic promises to economically disadvantaged members of the majority culture while taking a hostile stance toward members of minority cultures, whose economic disadvantage is, if anything, much worse.  Until a few days ago (Merci beaucoup, Monsieur Macron!), these populist movements have been enjoying an undeserved dream run in many countries.  This populism isn't "egalité".

"...All people become family. ... You millions, I embrace you!  This kiss is for all the world...."  True "liberté" and true "egalité" are built on a solid foundation of "fraternité".

"And now abideth liberté, egalité, and fraternité, these three; but the greatest of these is fraternité."