seethrough

my friend was telling me today about his (or was it his wife’s) pet tortoise that got attacked by a bird and lost an eye and one of his legs…

his name is lucky!

but what does it mean to say that someone is lucky?  i often with a person “good luck” as they prepare to tackle difficult conversation or leave on a long trip.

a few weeks ago i was sitting in a group of people who were speaking about relationships and marriage.  we were all offering our thoughts on what we thought made marriage work - and not work.  And as people spoke, I couldn’t help but think that elaine (the person I am married to) and I are just lucky.

it’s easy to pontifiate and offer sagely advice when things are going well for you.  but circumstances can so easily change.  people who get divorced often desperately try to work out what went wrong.  And people who have been married for years are quick to identify the keys to a successful marriage.

but i’m beginning to think that some people are just lucky.  they find each other and things kind of click.  they have their moments, but most of the time being together is good and healthy and marriage is kind to them.  i’m not so sure that elaine and I have made a go of our marriage so much because of us - we have been very fortunate that there is a sense of contentment and settledness that has descended on both of us.  i don’t think we should take too much credit for that!

and that’s where this thought is headed.  i’m thinking that people who are doing “well” - who have been married “successfully” for years and are still happy together, should be careful of assuming they did things “right” - as if they are solely responsible for their success.  Just as people whose relationships fail also might be kind to themselves - acknowledging the many unknowns and unexpected things that contributed to the relationship ending.

i’m not saying i don’t acknowledge the important place of taking responsibility in a committed relationship.  just that we should walk a little humbly when things are going well!

your thoughts?

i don’t like running.  i just don’t get the point.  you start at point A (just outside your house)… run for a few kms, feel tired and sweaty, and then end up back where you started…  back at point A having used up all that energy and got yourself exactly nowhere!

but this post pays tribute to my sister and cousin in the UK - Wendy and Sandy - for getting dressed up like pansies and running a 5km race to raise funds and awareness for cancer survivors…

i attended a similar event in Port Elizabeth a few months ago and was deeply moved by the whole experience.  Firstly, both my parents are survivors, and seeing them wearing the T-shirts with the word “SURVIVOR” on them brought it home again that life is fragile and precious.

i was also moved by the generosity of people who ran all through the night to raise funds to assist people who are fighting cancer.

finally, I was deeply moved by the candles that were lit all around the track bearing photos or names remembering the people who have been lost to cancer.  The candles, and all the memories gathered, and the people running made the track sacred space.

i assume the London(?) event was similar, and encouraged runners to participate in support of survivors or in memory of loved ones.  My sister ran for our parents…

So, here’s to the pansy ballerinas… Wendy (7127) and Sandy (7090)…

nice one guys!

when last did you kneel?

i don’t often kneel, but on Monday night i next to a 49 year old man just after he had died from a heart attack.

it’s a strange experience to be at the bedside of a person who has died.  the death is so large and real and in your face.  and yet life is also real and intense.  time seems to slow down and every movement and every word seems to carry special significance.

his wife was near to his side and I was privileged to be able to kneel, and to pray for them.

i prayed a prayer of gratitude.  i was grateful that he had been able to express his love and appreciation for his loved ones so tangibly while he was still alive.  i was grateful that his courage had taken him well along the road toward wholeness.  of course, he wasn’t perfect, but he had walked the road of faith - facing the challenges that come with spiritual growth - and he had made so much ground.  i was grateful for having known him.

i pay tribute to George - a faithful and courageous man - who died suddenly this week.

because his family has shared in the life of our community of faith, we now share in their pain and mourn his loss with them.  somehow things just won’t be the same again.

i went out for a paddle today in fairly rough waters.  A few very large waves came through and I was washed out the boat.  That in itself isn’t a big problem.  I let the boat get washed to the shore.  Then I thought I’d  swim in with my paddle.

Strong current made that hard.  Along with some very big waves which meant I was regularly being dumped and having to swim hard to keep my had above water.

Fortunately there were two surfers nearby and I quickly called to one to help me.  He came over quickly and I was able to hold onto his board.  He and I struggled to make any headway but he kept calm and seemed confident we were ok.  We allowed the current to wash us in, recovering after each big wave by hanging onto the board.

Finally we made it in.

I misjudged the waves.  Should have been wearing a life-jacket.  Gave the family (all watching from the beach) a huge fright.

I’m just hugely grateful to Quintin for the help!

Cate was baptised yesterday as my family gathered to celebrate her life. Cate is an easy going, contented child who laughs easily and watches what goes on arround her with great interest.

I baptised my daughter, a sign of God’s single, unrelenting attitude toward us - that we are loved, that our lives are a gift, and that there is nothing we can do to earn Life - it’s given.

I found a phrase from a poem by Meister Eckhart which begins “all beings are words of God”. I used that phrase as a starting point for a prayer, which i read at the Baptism yesterday…

If all beings are words of God
Then, once again you have spoken

If all of creation is part of The Song
Then God, this majestic music invites us
to join in the singing

If every moment is a touch of Your brush
on canvas
Then God, you enthral us with the beauty
of the masterpiece you are working on

We celebrate the life of Cate:

a gentle word
the first movement of a magnificent symphony
an artwork that claims our attention

We anticipate

thrilling conversation
tears and joy as the song is heard
moments that humble
when we see
when we really see the gift

staff are leaving. significant staff. the organisation is grieving. it’s natural - but painful, of course. today was the last day at the office for two of my colleagues… i kind of played MC to their goodbye speeches. they spoke well and it was a good day all round.

but tiring and draining.

so i get home. starving. wonderful wife has not only minded two children all morning but she has also made lunch. i plonk down and begin eating. after grace, of course. elaine asks a question. when i don’t reply she asks again (i think, this is my best recollection). I actually misheard her which is why i didn’t respond in a way which made her think i heard.

but my non-response registered a very interesting comment from elaine. she said something like: “not too worry - it just means that you’re not home yet.”

i really did mishear what she said - but her comment wasn’t far from the mark. i get home buggered and in so many ways i’m at home… but I’m not home yet…

which raises all sorts of questions about being present.  physical presence is no guarantee of the kind of presence that most significant others are hoping and longing for.  to be present in this deeper sense requires attentiveness - giving our attention to the person or activity.  this kind of attentiveness requires concern and compassion - and that means it requires energy…

to be present will best be done then, when we are rested.

i suppose the pain of many relationships between partners and also between parents and children is that time given to these significant relationships is usually given after our energy has been sapped at work all day…  which makes it hard to really be present.

i’ve known Max for longer than i’ve known my wife. he was a faithful friend. he was a beautiful dog - mistaken by many for a Wolf or a Husky, he was a white German Shepherd. He was gentle and thought he was small enough to be a great lap dog. he loved attention and running free. the maxer slept in my room with me through the loneliest nights and always behaved like a gentleman. he never rushed to his food - always taking time to greet people before getting to the bowl. in fact, sometimes food just didn’t seem a priority at all. there were more important things for Max.

He’s been struggling with his hips for some time and so we had to seriously consider his quality of life over the past few weeks. But yesterday we found him very distressed and the Vet suggested that he was poisoned with Insecticide which is hugely distressing. He died this morning at 8am. When I saw him this morning he was lying peacefully in the garden of the Vetinary Clinc and sat with his lifeless body for a while and gave thanks for a quiet gentle gracious companion.

i dunno why i do it.  but i get drawn into debate with colleagues who are strongly opposed to same-sex relationships in the church.  anyway, sometimes the writing stimulates thought which i do appreciate.  a few days ago, in conclusion to a response to a particularly feisty person in the debate i wrote the following:

tomorrow… we celebrate the marriage of two women who have sought God’s heart, allowed the scriptures to shape their characters, served the faith community with giftedness and our country in self-sacrificing ways in their secular work…  and have shown their faithful commitment to loving each other well.  the witness of their lives has done much to help many of us reconsider our unkind dogma and will allow us to acknowledge (whether we like it or not) God’s Kind and Tender Presence in the ceremony tomorrow… far more Kindness than we ever seem to be able to muster ourselves…
and so we did!!!  we toasted to Love and to Life and we celebrated the marriage of phillipa and natasha.  and i think God smiled…

(hopefully there will be photos soon and we’ll post a link…)

i interviewed a gay man on sunday night as a part of our church’s commitement to listening to “outside voices”…

perhaps the most moving part of the whole thing was an email I received from the person’s mother on monday morning:

Dear Barry,

We hope this finds you well. We are Stefano’s parents and we just want to thank you from the bottom of our hearts for asking Stef to speak at church last night. We so badly wanted to be there but having just recently been down it was not possible. I know he was extremely nervous which in itself shows just how important this opportunity was to him, because as you probably already have realised, Stef is normally very confident and outspoken!!

The reaction he received after the service was so very heartwarming. If even only one person was helped in coming to terms with their sexuality and if only one person’s perception of GLBT people was changed then it was well worth it, because i firmly believe that education is the key to change.

Stefano & Charl may have told you that we came to a service when we were in PE a few weeks ago. We enjoyed it very much although it was very different to a Catholic Mass!! The most important thing is that our precious boys are happy at St.John’s and the fact that they feel welcome and comfortable is all that matters to us. We would like to thank you once again for embracing all people…

there are those who would say that when you befriend a gay or lesbian person, you lose your objectivity - so that you are no longer able to make a good ethical judgement regarding same-sex relationships… the unfortunate implication is that friendship will always get in the way of a faithful spiritual life. but compassion is by definition not an “objective” stance. I have previously argued that objectivity is over-rated. compassion takes sides. it stands in solidarity with people. compassion is less concerned with being right and more concerned with what it might mean to be kind. in answer to an email from a colleague who is desperately concerned about the future well-being of the church i wrote the following prayer:

may we never make a choice based on fear! (and especially as the community of faith - we should know better!)

may we always know more clearly, and speak more joyfully, on what we are FOR than what we are against.

may we have the God-given confidence to stand alone, if necessary, when many have been conformed to the ways of this world!

may we live to see the end of the church and the birth of the Kin’dom.

and may we always surrender control in favour of standing alonside the dis-empowered!

we overcame the fear of power and the power of fear
to liberate slaves when godly men quoted scripture to justify their profits
to affirm the voices of women who speak with the blessing of the Holy Spirit
(and in spite of Paul’s scriptural prohibitions)
to bless the remarriage of those who have found life and love again
after the trauma of the failure of their marriage
to proclaim the dignity and humanity of every person
even when power found scriptural basis for discrimination and domination

we will overcome fear and power again
and in Jesus name!

i received an sms this evening:

it’s over 6.30. no more suffering.

after a month of brave holding on, Henry stopped breathing this evening. he was a courageous man and someone i would want to have beside me in any scary situation. he never looked flustered - like he didn’t know what to do next. if he didn’t know what to do, he certainly didn’t let on…

I remember when i nearly turned his 4×4 onto it’s side coming down a sand-dune in Namibia - he quickly stepped in to get us back on the track.

At times like this we are so tempted to want to say something to a grieving family, something that will ease their pain. but all the “be strong” - “he’s in a better place” - “it’s better this way” comments sound like a cheap radio echoing in a huge empty room.

when i took the phone this evening to speak with Marietjie (elaine’s mom) all i could say was i don’t know what to say

i don’t have anything to say to ease the pain. the pain of losing is not a wound that responds well to a treatment of words.

but i do have something to say! Thank you. Thank you for Henry. Thanks for knowing him as much as I did. Thanks for being invited into a fabulous family and being drawn into family times. Thanks for the learning to drive tractors and mow the fields. Thanks for a day of branding cattle! Thanks for a trip through the Namibian desert and for being treated like a man - for being spoken to like an adult.

there’s huge gap now…