August

Hi!
It is I - again!

I last wrote to you in February. I am sure it must have been something profound. Words are my tool - my friends - my notes - my colours painted on a canvas of troubles and joys. So here I am again. After my spluttering start in February. February is still lying there.

Well it must be said that 2014 has done more damaged than I predicted. The world's a messier place - conflicts abound - refugees clutter many dusty places - the misplaced are often certain that they will never see home again - and if they do what is left will crush their hopes and memories of a better former day.

So breakfast is done - there are pills before food and pills after. For me more pills to supplement my dwindled supply of neurotransmitters so essential for every move I make. Thanks Doctor James (1817) for giving your name to this perplexing condition.

I am on study leave! I almost forgot. My sortie into post-structuralist theories is going well so far. The paper itself is "Conflict Resolution" aka Mediation - and the specific approach "Narrative Mediation". I had a week of lectures/tutorials/role play and need to write up a verbatim of the final session. It's going to be fun watching myself on video. The best thing about the week's work was landing with a lovely group - the "big 6". There has to be a South African or two there to come up with that name. I really should get back on Moodle and do some more work there!

On a more cheerful note - most of the official winter days are behind us. There is still snow in predicable places but not here in the city of sails! Plenty of rain still - one never really knows how many different conditions will assault us in a 24 hour period.

Talking about assaults - the weather did take a turn on the day I signed up at a local Gym. I promised the lady instructor that I would not be the first person to lose concentration and be sent flying by the tread mill. So far so good. My primary exercise remains walking Jessie - my close companion who is delighted that I have sixty days off work for my studies. She is faithfully at my side as we speak - surrounded by an array of doggie toys. The moment I move - she will hand (mouth?) to me something to engage in tug-of-war or catching.

Here she is - as a puppy! The fully grown version is gorgeous too.

Well August is pressing on. Yesterday was the 8th - my mother's birthday. She left us on the same day as Princess Diana. There will be more memories lurking when the 31st comes. Funny thing is that I still have days when I think it would be good to give her a call! I wonder what she would be saying about the muddles the world is dealing with today?

As we get older our memories seem mixed up - I can't remember sometimes where we lived (or where they lived) in our previous 5 towns, but I remember the faithfulness and kindness of those amazing saints who were our allies in the proclamation of His Kingdom. They were mainly humble folk - faithfulness matters most. Humility is summed up in this Maori saying: Kāore te kumara e kōrero mō tōna ake reka. "The kumara does not say how sweet he is".

Well we are counting the days until Spring. Until then

Robin aka RevvyP

Hello 2014

I last wrote on this blog a year ago. How frightening that something you love can die in you. Creativity, energy, the very life and power of your words can be sucked out, dulling mind, heart, soul and passion and crushing that once fuller flow of these created code-bearers. Words. Spoken they give life or sting, cut and bruise. Written they speak to you again as you see yourself and something of your deepest being on the page or screen.

Where did I go? Why this long silent blankness?

And what inspired this start again? A boy called Ben who spewed out heart and entrails on another page.

He is one of many young men who inspired and challenged me - I have to admit this here - I miss those heady interactions, conversations, hours of sparring. The loss like spear piercing, blade slicing. As when winded - all that groaning and gasping.

So why did I leave them behind? They asked me that too - why are you going? A call - I said - back to what I used to be and do.

Had I only known how it would try to kill me. Doubts, rejection, pain and anger that dulled and crushed so that I could not scream as I would or should. Their arrogance and mockery - crueler blows and slicing dicing words, posts, reports and choruses.

So thank you Ben. Your honesty and open-hearted declarations and wrestlings have spurred me on. Have helped me put this pen to paper once again - restored a sense, a glimpse - a taste of hope again.

A spluttering stuttering start is better than none at all.

Hello twenty fourteen. A year yet to announce its new assaults. Here I am. I will face you and you will not destroy or drown out this voice - these sentences - this heart will not be silenced. This song will again be sung, this silent one will speak and paint new scenes and vistas with these words - again.

Waitangi Day on a wave

A sunny day today, marred by a horrible earthquake and news of a Tsunami watch here in New Zealand. More concerning are the reports of vulnerable people in the Pacific on their more vulnerable islands. Worth keeping an eye on things in the whole area and staying off the beach today.
I've not had too many persistent nightmares in my life. Some of the recurring ones are too messy to share with you. But there was always the picture of a very large Tsunami. Growing up  in "Durbs by the sea" made that a kind of possibility in the back of one's mind.
It's dreams that are next on my hit list. Anyone found a decent seminar or retreat on interpreting dreams? There is one coming up this year on the Shore (our North Shore which used to be a posh part of Auckland a bit like the old Durban-North and the new Balito). Would love your thoughts on how these dreams work.
About Waitangi day? Not a lot to say really. I think a large chunk of the population seems a tad indifferent to the whole history. I also think it requires more serious study from all. The average kiwi is happy to have a holiday and noses will be put out of joint if the country with the most sails per capita is chased out of the water on this lovely day of recreation. Stupid Tsunami - they will think as are forced to step out of the recreational bubble they live in.
And many will have to stop being sightseers to the tragedies of life. Amazing how many flock to the beach to see what is happening when Tsunamis lurk. Information overload of course means that we are a bit shruggy about the needs of the masses. People will lose everything, and we will muddle on with our own issues or pleasures.

Happy Waitangi Day! If you know nothing about the history click here...

And congratulations to her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II who celebrates 61 years since she became Queen - the sad day on which she heard that her father had passed away. She was in Kenya at the time. So many interesting links to Kenya these days! Go Kenya!

Watch this space!

And it begins again...

I'm back to 'work' tomorrow. It's a funny idea considering what I do. So many comments over so many years ; 'you only work once a week anyway' is the standard line. Or 'on leave again?'.

It's been a good break. Nothing spectacular. A bit of this and that. I think parts of the garden are looking a tad better. And the Auckland weather has been great.

Looking ahead at 'work' - we face the same old same old things only of people have the same old attitude. I noticed this quote recently:

"Talk to him about 'moderation in all things.' If you can once get him to the point of thinking that 'religion is all very well up to a point,' you can feel quite happy about his soul. A moderated religion is as good for us as no religion at all—and more amusing."
~ Screwtape, from The Screwtape Letters

Yay for CS Lewis. It may be that people don't all agree with particulars but the devil in the book has a point.

I'm hoping that people will focus on the future and not have us all hamstrung by details and preferences. To quote a friend who writes amazing articles - thanks Rod:

Three Leadership Sinkholes to avoid… (Natal Mercury Tuesday)

Sinkhole #1: Managing will consume you. If you don’t watch your step you’ll be seduced into thinking that managing IS leading. The two will become confused and leading will morph into managing - not the reverse. Endless administrative tasks will drown your day and you. The risk-averse, the anxious employees among you (mostly managers - they LOVE safety) will exercise power and keep you managing and keep you from leading. They are managers. That’s what they do. Of course they will try to manage you. Then, the very same people will complain, “There’s just no leadership around here!” It’s a sinkhole. Avoid it.

Sinkhole #2: Over-listening to whiners. If you allow the whiners among you too much of an ear they will drown out healthy voices. Whiners are often very aggressive, especially when ignored. They’ll feel entitled to shape your job. Don’t let them. Whiners are NEVER satisfied. Whatever you do will never stop their whining. Listen to whiners, yes, but listen to the healthy, the enthusiastic, and the busy, motivated people six times as much. Pole-vault this sinkhole.

Sinkhole #3: Tripping over the remains of your predecessor. I am all for honouring the past, but leaders must determinedly point to a greater future. Resist the understandable urge to protect the memory of whomever you follow, especially if you are doing it in the hopes of gaining acceptance from those who loved the previous leader. It’s a sinkhole. Flee it.

So here's to a year which looks forward and beyond ourselves to the mission we have in this community. To the reality of God and his transforming power. To true reconciliation and forgiveness. To truth and not self-deception. To real life-changing love and service.

25 years and counting

So we are closer to Christmas and I'm thinking - what is this really for? Every year people have much to say about commercialization of this event, and of the need to focus on the really important things.

Nothing changes really. Nutty spending and insane eating. And carols turned into instruments of torture.How depressing really.

And then I got a CD today from an OP shop. Yes we have these lovely places where you can explore people's pre-loved stuff. Such a great recording of carols. Not jingly or tingly and so forth. And our little Christmas tree is up - giving a pretty feel to the place. I am beginning to feel like Christmas could be fun after all. The cards are going up on the wall (rather than me climbing it) and I like the feel. The memories. The sounds and smells.

And tonight we had a great Pastors' Christmas celebration. I really do value my colleagues from other local churches. When I listen to their stories - I know it's not me. The stuff that goes down - well it's happening all over the show. I am normal! (Waves of laughter peal out across the continents...)

And tomorrow - after listening to some really great stories of how challenging this vocation can be, I think I may celebrate my 25th anniversary of ordination with some degree of decorum and a huge amount of gratitude.

Gratitude to God for keeping me doing what I do as a pastor. Humility as I realize I know so much less than I thought I did. Joy as I think of the people who have come to faith or grown in faith through my efforts over 25 years.

I will celebrate the day tomorrow night at a Presbytery service welcoming a Korean church into the Presbyterian family in Takapuna. It started at a Presbytery meeting and will be celebrated 25 years on at one.

The gratitude also involves the wonderful men and women of the congregations who have had me as their minister through these years and the boys of Scots College where I spent five years as a Chaplain. Such good things learned and discovered about myself. And about God's amazing love and grace.

And of course I have a wife and family who have bravely followed over these 25 years. Not an easy thing being a pastor's wife and of course PKs. Thanks family!

So wherever you are and wherever you end up this Christmas, spare a thought for those who faithfully work over these days to help congregations and gatherings around the world to celebrate the birth of Jesus the right way up, as it were. This is not just a time for a boost to the economies of the world. It's a time to remember that we are a visited planet. Christ was born in Bethlehem. Knowing Him now is the best thing in my funny old life. I have known him for so long now. He has never failed me. May I remain faithful too.

New Wine

What an amazing day on Friday. Being the 2nd of November is not startling - although the downward slide to Christmas is alarming if you are an "are we ready yet?" kind of obsessive. The trip to Warkworth was not very stunning either. We went on the motorway which includes a toll road. (Brb - I have to quickly pay on line...)
I'm BACK! Last time I forgot and received a letter which cost me more! Haha!
Yes the toll road is very straight and there is a tunnel. I much prefer the old scenic route. One time there was a policeman on the side of the road dealing with a wayward cow. It is SO RURAL and much like the old Natal days of my childhood.
No it wasn't the trip. It was the New Wine. No winery stops though - just a leaders' day "run" by New Wine. Which is an organisation or association of New Zealand churches that gets people together to focus on the important things.
What a good day. I am not very quick to rush to the front when prayer is offered. But after lunch there was this opportunity to go forward. I'm not over zealous about prophetic kind of ministry really. I've read too much Adrian Plass.
But this rather lovely man who has sped around New Zealand for some weeks encouraging leaders and Christian people (with the most delightfully funny and down to earth stories and wisdom) prayed for me. There are these moments when you know - that you know. The God-moments that are not the product of any kind of winding-up or ecstatic enthusiasm - but a simple and clear word which makes you stop in your tracks.
How silly of me to forget that this God whom we serve knows exactly what you need before you ask for it. (You probably recall Jesus going on about that somewhere in the gospels...).
How nice to have the ship steadied, so to speak.
New Wine. Look them up. They have summer conferences ("FESTIVALS") around New Zealand. I suspect you too could benefit greatly. Have a look for yourself: New Wine
In a rather disarming fashion you will see this picture of an enthusiastic young person (I think) with goggles and wings of some sort - with the caption ARE WE THERE YET?
Not yet - not me at any rate. I am - like the rest who are listening to God at all - a major work in progress.
New Wine.
Yes.

Spring Sprung - Springer

The mysteries of the onset of spring have always evaded me. Having grown up in tropical (or sub-tropical) Natal, and despite the gynecological form of that province's very name (having been "discovered" on Christmas Day way back by an avid Portuguese chappy in a boat), one could never really be sure there of the changes in seasons.
Roll on Rustenburg. Our life there, a brief sojourn, did produce some natal activity, both in the birth of our second son (beloved by name and in practice) and in the curious ability to actually tell that the seasons were turning. When it came to noticing Spring, I refer primarily to a very small stick-like fig tree that dominated the back lawn (there were no other bushes or the like in the area) - a tree which like in Jonah's account was a doubtful starter in terms of shade provision (with or without worms) as it was simply too tiny and scrawny.
The good thing about this tree? Not having Google calendars (or Outlook equivalents that mattered) and even when you couldn't find a paper calendar (one with flowers, scenery, or any other dodgy images) you could check out the fig tree around September 1. With seasonal certainly the little plant produced a green leaf. One was enough to know that it was time. And of course this hopeful specimen reminded me of Habbakuk 3:17-18. And boy did I need that assurance.
I still do of course. The Spring has not been that obvious. It may well have sprung at some point in the last couple of weeks. Any exciting shoot would be unnoticed as we have endured buckets and buckets of rain.
The passage in the above-mentioned somewhat unpronounceable Bible passage has its writer declare his commitment to rejoice in the LORD - a word which in Afrikaans ( a Dutch dialect of the country of my birth) is jubel, but in Dutch itself comes out as van vreugde opspringen. I love it. Neat. The springy nature of such rejoicing reminds me of my dear mother who when speaking of more buxom creatures of the female gender had this curious yet kind descriptive saying when referring to such largely endowed ladies: "more bounce to the ounce". You get the picture.
Joy requires some energetic expansiveness in spirit and temperament. And my nickname at school: Springer of course. I wonder if my curious scholarly colleagues remember that. Did I bounce or jump for joy? Too many decades have gone by to remember that with integrity.
Alas I confess that I have lost some of that energy. Yes the demise of youth, you mutter politely. The joy I am finding is a much richer thing. When the fig trees in my life take a LONG LONG time to blossom, and when the produce of the olive fails, and our fields seem barren - yet we still rejoice in the Lord. And the verse which follows in Habbakuk 3 is even more energizing: The Sovereign LORD is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to go on the heights.
So there it is then. Spring Sprung. Yes of course as we age our springs, like those in an old chair, can go haywire. But it's what's in the heart that really matters.
So while the nation seems to go nuts over its current issues (most of which are strangely drawn out of Parliament's ballot box of chance) - and the world is in its present turmoil of rage, down here in the south on the edge of the earth Spring has sprung in more ways than one. And its rich tapestries are being painted in all the facets of our spiritual and emotional journey.
I trust that you find some energy from within too - perhaps in your travels of heart and mind you can also explore this rich joy from our most delightful Saviour and God. For what is within that generates real life comes from without. We are not abandoned.