And a Merry Christmas to you too.

(From the December edition of "Quad" Magazine).

Quite amazing it is that we are talking about Christmas already. Apart from the speed at which “time flies” in our lives, it seems peculiar to be assailed by festive advertisements towards the end of October. How merry we are when Christmas injects life into our ailing economies around the world. But are we really happy?

Our year ones and twos watched a delightful story in the Veggie Tales series about “Madame Blueberry” – yes a blueberry with a French accent, who was horribly duped into overspending by some scheming salespeople from a local departmental store. The plethora of goods and gadgets failed to induce a state of happiness in this dear woman. The boys were quick to remind me of this outcome when I asked them what they could remember about the term’s work in Religious Education. Stuff doesn’t make you happy, as nice as it may be to upgrade things all the time. In the case of Madame Blueberry, she remained so “blue” despite her goodies and goods. At the end of the story, when her tree house fell down from the weight of her purchases, good friends saved the day.

It is no real surprise when we hear from researchers that our forbears did not get depressed because they had plenty of sunshine, exercise, good community life (relationships a priority!), ample sleep and a good diet. Somehow the picture of sleepy children clinging to a computer in the dark, feeding on junk food and talking to people in cyberspace, doesn’t match this hope of a non-depressed existence. The boys at school look at me very suspiciously, of course, when (on those rare Wellington sunny days) I chase them out of the passages into the sunlight muttering about fresh air and the sun’s gift of vitamin D being good for their low moods.

So as Christmas comes along, beware the fact that our moods are mixed by a combination of festivities and memories that are painful, and the added arrival of equally challenging relatives! Like weddings and funerals, these important rituals mean that we get together to reconstitute the networks that once would have been common in extended families. The beauty of permanent extended families is that people benefit from ongoing support and have no choice but to forgive each others’ failings and work together! Our isolation in “western” societies has the potential of breeding separation and a dubious self-sufficiency which detaches us.

What’s to be done then? Read Dickens’ A Christmas Carol? Perhaps. A Scrooge-type conversion would make the world nicer – but it’s more than individual change that is needed. Corporations and the wealthy ones who invest in them, and in many countries governments and leaders, are probably all in need of a major transformation or change of heart. We need more than just a festive season as well.

The year will run its course. There will be many celebrations of success and progress in the lives of our students and their families. Well done to so many who have given it their best shot and more! For those who are moving on to new adventures and places, we wish you well. For all of us – there is the hope and prayer that our happiness will be deeper and wider, richer and stronger than the temporary joys of a festive season’s merriment.

The quest for meaning in life - to quote psychotherapist Viktor Frankl - the “will to meaning,” still rates high in our human pursuit for happiness and fulfillment. Frankl, a holocaust survivor, remained resolute in his thinking that happiness can never be a direct goal. How easily we fall into that trap, especially as parents, when we want our children, above all else, to be “happy”. This Viennese psychiatrist suggested that we can live through anything if we have something to live for.

Happiness is the by-product of fulfilled and purposeful lives in which we live for a greater power or cause outside of ourselves. At Christmas we celebrate the birth of Christ, described both as the light of the world and the desire of nations. There is no better model than his loving and sacrificial life, the one fittingly described as “a man for others”. It is this Jesus who calls us to follow Him. May you find fulfillment in your quest for a truly happy and successful future, and may God bless you richly.

Birthday reflections

I read an end of year reflection by a young man this morning who is on a plane right now jetting off to my country of birth! A very good read indeed! I was wondering what I could possibly say that would reflect my own gratitude at this time.

The year has ended with the loss of a young man from our College. Trying to celebrate while sharing the enormous sense of community grief and shock is not an easy balancing act. As one whose trade is in words (I'm paid to use them, I've been told) - there are times when I too have no words. Just a deep groaning, the painful agony that we share. But then one more proficient in words once penned these: “Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break.” So I will dredge up some words in the midst of this deep sad space. So many people have extended such grace and care for me - and even the list of birthday wishes from so many is in inspiration and a huge help. Thank you!

There isn't a moment in our lives when people are not dying - where somewhere on this weary planet the painful tearing of loss does not rip loved ones from their lovers. And in the midst of these separations, tiny new hands reach out as wailing living bundles of joy are warmly welcomed by a mother's exhausted arms and caring soothing hands.

This is life. The loss of a young man - a child, son, brother, grandson and friend, is both tragic and terrible. We will yet move along this bumpy road of clumsy goodbyes and awkward questions laced with frail vulnerability. We will hold on to each other and hopefully - hold on to our gracious Lord and God of whom my many words over all these years have valiantly tried to redirect the thoughts and wills of very sharp minds and passionate hearts.

This is our life. How can we risk the agony of walking on this road alone? So as you share my birthday with me - take some time to share the deepest thoughts and feelings you have today with another traveller. There are many good people close at hand with compassion and listening hearts who will help you comprehend even your darkest days!

And shout out loud the celebrations - bold declarations that this life - so deep and wide and high and long - is full of loves and eager expectations, dreams and hopes which we yet will share together.

Shalom.

Advent

We remain people of the south. None of this wet white or sludgy Christmas with melting snow. For the last week we have had real southern summer - such a familiar feeling with real sunshine and warmth. I need a bigger hat! A-la the westerns of old, perhaps a cowboy version, having already had two sessions with our beloved doctor and her liquid nitrogen cylinder which reminds me of a shaving cream or instant whipped cream dispenser! The manifestations of actinic keratosis have been nuked! Of course its also termed senile keratosis which is a novel thought as my next 50-something birthday is next week! :-) Perhaps a larger bowling hat will help!

We have reached some milestones as I alluded to in my shorter earlier epistle. All three children are now post-secondary education. How we remember with exhaustion years of school trips. We are also in that peculiar state where we have indicated we are leaving Wellington but realise that there is still much to be done in the interim months - December to March! The waiting game? A time of preparation...

For this reason I have been reading again on parish/congregational ministry - the work of "pastor" with its peculiar demands. Appropriately I have begun with "Ministry Burnout" by John Sanford, interspersed with a newish biography on John Calvin! The first of these reminds me about what Gordon MacDonald termed "VDP's" - the very draining people termed by Kunkel (as quoted by Sanford) as "clinging vines." I am sure I will have lots of VIPs - very inspiring people!

My reading of the book on Calvin's life reveals a fascinating pattern which the reformer conformed to - he was hired as a chaplain and then hired a lesser mortal to do his job at a lower rate of pay. Thus he had time to study and research! An entirely acceptable practice, it seems, which I have sadly discovered too late in my work as chaplain here! Bother.

The Advent season here is not really adhered to by the bulk of shoppers - they are not waiting but shopping like crazy. The spending season has been rolling along. The anticipation of presents I am sure is exciting for the youngsters. We enjoy the Christmas traditions - they have a nurturing function in terms of the wonderful memories that are evoked.

Waiting on the Lord is another thing altogether. Tomorrow the bishop of Wellington is preaching at our local church. I am sure he will enlighten us all. We visited the Cathedral this morning and saw some amazing paintings by children of Gaza - which expose the raw pain of war and conflict and the hope of new life and peace. There must be much waiting for new beginnings in so many parts of the world.

We remember those families of the 29 trapped miners at Pike river - who are now waiting only for the recovery of their remains. We remember those who are waiting for employment, for healing, for faith and hope to be restored. From tomorrow's readings:

Rom 15:13 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

May you be blessed at this time as you wait on the Lord, and reflect on his first and second comings.

Reflections on Queen's birthday weekend

It's been a while since I posted anything personal here. I thought I would say something about the Monarchy. Princess Elizabeth Alexandra Mary was born on April 21, 1926. Her birthday celebration here in New Zealand on an apparently unrelated date has given us a long weekend. Now amongst my many friends there are bound to be some raving republicans. I B sure that some of my work colleagues are thinking that the weekend is not long enough, although the boys at school get 5 days! I think that when this weekend break comes all of us are staunchly royalist in a most selfless manner.
My contention is that in a rapidly changing and chaotic world Queen Elizabeth II has been a rather nice and constant pillar of strength. She was born eight months after my mum. So their lives were lived in virtual parallel. She simply was. And she is, despite the amazing misfortunes that have beset her sometimes wayward family. She has exhibited a stoicism and resilience in the face of decades of very challenging human history. She has seen so many Prime Ministers come and go. And her nation has changed in its fabric and imperial influence through these busy years.
My mum died on the same day as Princess Diana, and on what would have been my parents' 40th wedding anniversary. My emotional ties with the royal family are peculiar on account of this. A young and deeply painful life ended, and people mourned in a way that Britain will no doubt not see again. But Elizabeth remains on the throne. And should she be as strong as her mother, we may find that she will outlive some of us. How steadfast that institution.
Is there some hidden message here? I could speak of the unchanging love of God as an ultimate bulwark and protection from the ravages of change. Greater than the notion of resilience of a human throne is the faithfulness of a heavenly lover, a God portrayed as immutable and steadfast, One who never lets us go.
In the words of the Psalmist - "Your love reaches to the heavens, and your faithfulness to the clouds."
I could also speak of the One whose love for us paid a price for our adoption into the family of the Faithful One. The writer to the Hebrews puts it thus:
"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God."
It is to the one who is seated at the right hand of the throne of God that we turn for our ultimate assurance and sense of continuity - Jesus the same yesterday, today and forever.
Be loved, beloved, and filled with His life forever.

Robin Palmer | 40 Hour Famine

Robin Palmer | 40 Hour Famine

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Leaders and Followers

An article from an Educational Leadership magazine in recent months made me think seriously about our styles of leadership. The question raised was very simple – why do people follow you? And of course, why would they? There is an old maxim that appears in leadership journals occasionally: if you’re out there leading and nobody is following, then you’re really just out for a walk. Alone.
The seasons of Lent and Easter have made me reconsider the followers of Jesus and the tough decisions they had to make. It must have been exciting when Jesus was welcomed into town like a hero. It was probably amazing when large crowds gathered to hear him. There must have been unnerving moments when he was arrested – when the option of violence against the Roman authorities was tested. And then of course there were huge disappointments – Judas the betrayer possibly trying to force Jesus’ hand, and Peter the broken leader who denied knowing his leader three times. And most fascinating of all – the young John Mark who escaped the clutches of the arresting authorities by wriggling out of his clothes. They were heady times.
During the term in various classroom conversations we have examined a range of situations where people have made bad decisions - often mislead by bad leaders, or threatened or bullied by the kind of people you wouldn’t vote into power. It is a sobering thought that many of us, placed in similar tough circumstances, might also have found it difficult to do the right thing. We make wrong decisions even in peacetime, never mind situations challenged by war or oppression.
The story of Easter – the Christian tradition in its customary form - is about the apparent failure of a good man and beloved leader – who seems to allow himself to be cruelly tortured and executed without offering any real defence. The God-person Jesus bears intolerable pain and suffering, a punishment undeserved and probably meted out by corrupt and selfish religious and secular leaders.
The excitement of Easter – in this same Christian tradition – surpasses the thrills of Easter egg hunts and mandatory holidays. The gloom and darkness of a failed leadership campaign, and a gruesome execution, is eclipsed by a forty day period of resurrection encounters – where followers of Jesus, up to five hundred at one time – find that he is alive again.
Easter’s themes of new life, spring (in the northern hemisphere), and fresh beginnings are hopeful and invigorating glimpses of a better world, and the victory of love over hatred, and forgiveness over resentment and bitterness.
The life and death of Jesus are inspirational. Easter is a celebration of that life and death. The resurrection brings new energy to discouraged people at every level. The same power (literally “spirit”) that raises Jesus from the dead is offered to us – transforming our frail physical and emotional lives with a new vitality and energy, an enlivening and joy-filling encounter.
We often find ourselves weary and stretched as school terms come to an end. And in our personal lives we face all manner of challenges both practically and spiritually. The hope of Easter is once again our mainstay. We have the promise that Jesus is still with us through his ever-present Holy Spirit – to strengthen us and give us peace.
May you be blessed at this Easter time with all that you need to inspire and guide you, and may you be a great leader in your field, both at home and at work or play – with followers who are inspired by you and from whom you also learn and grow.

(Written for the School Magazine before Easter)

Post Easter

Winter is on its way. The pleasant autumn sun today is deceptive, as the cold truth of a Wellington winter is very sobering. There have been these mean little southerly winds popping out of the meteorological woodwork.
We are in the middle of the so-called Easter break. The Easter weekend began with a typical holiday collapse of resistance to the local bugs, and necessitated a visit to the Doctor and week's supply of pills. Losing one's voice is not good for a preacher. The voice died after the Easter sunday message.
New Zealand life continues in its nondescript way. Occasional excitement is noted when particular rugby games are on. Cricket doesn't do the same, and it is unlikely that too many people can afford to go to South Africa for the Football world cup - the prices in NZD are insane. The All Whites will have to be content with an audience on line cheerfully yelling for them.
As a South African living "abroad" the current reports on the state of affairs in the old country are disturbing. I have vivid memories of our two years (and a bit) in Rustenburg, the heart of Afrikaner country. Standing in the queue to use a public phone on the corner I was amazed to see a white male attack a black man who was sitting on the pavement. I have no idea why. But it made sense that Eugene Terblanche was prepared to stand for the Rustenburg constituency in the National elections. There were plenty of enthusiasts. "ET go home" was on a poster that appeared on the streets. It seemed that there were plenty of white right wing parties there anyway who didn't want the man in black on his large horse galloping through the town.
ET is home now I suppose. One can only hope that there is no outbreak of violence. The Farmers Unions seem to be mobilising in their own way. The violence, whichever way you look at it and whatever side you take, is horrible and endless.
We have begun our 5th year here officially. It seems like we have been here forever. The connections to South Africa are still very strong, and the Palmer children have some mixed feelings about living here to say the least. In the meantime we continue to do what we do as faithfully as we can. I was reminded by an old friend by email this week that the battle is not ours, and that faithfulness to the task we know is the most important thing.
This week we will be at Foxton Beach. Not being the largest place on the coast, few will know much about it. The "Bach" - the local word for a holiday cottage - has been kindly loaned to us by a colleague Presbyterian minister. A good opportunity to recuperate and prepare for the new term. School begins on the 19th with a College chapel service - one must be prepared for these things.
The Easter message of resurrection and hope has to be foundational in our lives - may you be inspired to see things from that point of view.
As always, yours truly
Robin