An explosion?

On Monday I took my old road bike down to the garage to pump the tyre up. The front tyre has an old type of valve, so I had to screw an extension on it to use the compressed air. With this valve the meter only reads the pressure while you are pumping. I kept trying to pump to read the pressure. All of a sudden there was a loud explosion, my tyre came off the rim and my tube split! The mechanic and owner of the garage came running yelling, "What the hell?".  Dazed, I said, "I think I put too much air for the tyre to hold."  They probably went back to their work saying something not very complimentary about parsons.

Today I accepted a new chaplaincy. I visited there for an hour with their current chaplain, a younger vivacious, attractive, blond, outgoing, joking sort of woman. (About the exact opposite of shy old me.) It is the Allied Press in Dunedin. I was pleasantly surprised though because I kept bumping into people I knew. The sister of a fireman, a reporter I had worked on an obit with, an advertising saleslady I did a deal with, a man I linked up with in a half-marathon years ago... (he remembered me!) etc etc. It is a big rabbit warren of a building. I was intrigued with all the processes that go on to produce a paper. I hope I am accepted? They obviously loved their current chaplain. ... but I also wonder if I am doing to my life what I did to my tyre... trying to fit too much in??? Just wait ... you may hear an explosion. I take over late next week.  I think I can manage if I learn to say "no" to some things and learn to have the confidence to be more decisive so I can do other tasks at a quicker clip. In spite of my hesitations, the people interested me and I look forward to learning more about the work there and expanding my horizons more. Watch this space.

Today was full on. I played in goal at the PACT social soccer. I saved heaps of goals, I was surprised at how fast I reacted, but my little finger on my left hand and it's knuckle are sore and swollen now! Should 61 year olds play soccer? Yes... yes... "rage rage against the dying of the light!" 

Midweek quandries....

Attachment to cars...?

We had an MG station wagon which had become unreliable. We had used it fairly well over the years, gone on a number of journeys and carried quite a lot of loads. The MG was great on a trip, great on cornering and as a station wagon, very handy. But some time ago it kept stopping embarrassingly often... just cutting out. Then mysteriously some time later it would start up again, usually when we had towed it to a garage to find the fault. We had several garages look into it and finally got it fixed at some expense. It went well for a while then started doing the same thing. It was getting rusty also so we bought "Wicked Wanda" our Nissan Blue Bird. The MG has just sat on the grass beside our drive where I last towed it after it had died once too often, getting rusty and in the way. Today it got taken away and I feel like I have sent a pet to the abattoir! Maybe if I had had the time I could have repaired it? Looked after it better? I feel guilty over a car! How sad is that?

A new chaplaincy... to be or not to be?

I have been offered a new chaplaincy, four hours a week. It would be in an industry that would be intensely interesting. But I am a busy boy now? I really don't know what to do, and I have to decide by tomorrow. I have done a pros and cons thing in my mind. I have talked it over with my boss; with the chaplain who is resigning from the place; with my wife; with my friend; with my supervisor; with the chair of the church board; ... but no one will tell me what to do. They each ask questions, make suggestions... but somehow I have to decide by tomorrow! I am scared about taking on something I could fail at. There would be more women involved in this workplace and I suppose I see myself as a "blokes" chaplain and am uncomfortable around women. The hopes and expectations of the management seem to be high. Oh dear... what to do? Will I sleep tonight!

Pianist wanted...?

Our pianist at church has been a lovely Korean lady who has been doing a PhD. She is finished and has a job overseas, leaving soon. We need a new pianist! Where to find one? 

Feedback reactions...?

I spent time with my boss on Tuesday. She updated me on the evaluations after my leading of a recent chaplains' training day... they were all good. She assured me that I was highly respected as a chaplain by my fellow chaplains. ... I was rung by a manager of one of my chaplaincy work places and he and his family want to come help at our Christmas dinner. The conversation felt like an endorsement of who I was and what I do..... My supervisor gave me some nice feedback.... As I left an inner-city ministers meeting I was told how much they admired my community involvement and my example of ministry. All these unsolicited... but the weird thing is there is this voice inside me says, "Yeah right! You don't really know me! That's not me! I am a failure!"  Weird? 

Privilege

I end up having heaps of conversations with all sorts of people each week. I feel deeply privileged. I see some sort of sea birds on a hot day sitting extending their wings and fluffing their feathers so that they maximise their exposure to the breeze to help them cool. These conversations are a bit like that. There is my experiences of life. But then as I talk with others, and am exposed to their experiences, my experience is added to, expanded and informed. It is like there is so much more added to my life. The conversations I am privileged to have, with the variety of people I encounter, maximise my experience of life. I get more "bang for my buck" out of life. I am so fortunate.

Sunday stewing...

Freedom

Since we have started Settlement Resource@Space2B at our church I have met a whole lot of people from around the world. I find it intensely interesting to hear their stories and step into their world. I spent quite a bit of time this week with a man from a country, which he says is very rich. He told me that the price of a whole lot of commodities was a lot cheaper than here in Dunedin, NZ. Materially life was pretty good, but he said, in faltering English, "Nobody can relax!" He told how people were not really allowed freedom of speech and thought. While he loved his country, and it will be difficult for him and his family to forge a new life here, that freedom was worth moving else where, and in a sense risking all for him and his family. We in NZ take for granted the freedoms we have.

Tim's text...

I share with you a text I got from Tim, a guy who comes to our drop-in centre and was part of the street footy team. He has been down at the wharf fishing in the Otago Harbour where salmon are running at the moment. On Saturday morning he sent me this text: 

"The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away! I was reeling in a 40 cm salmon this morning when a gigantic sea lion grabbed my fish and ate it b4 mine eyes #*# " I thought it was so funny.

Priorities and hours in the day.

This week I have struggled with priorities and how to fit everything I want to do in. I have had a good week, and spent a lot of time with people, feeling that I have been a support and help to them, while enjoying the sense of connection and learning myself. But because of that I did not get some other things done well. Always there seemed to be options to choose from. Stay here and talk, or do a report for the board meeting? Listen to this new settler, try to find help for him, or go to that funeral to support a member in his grief? Share with the street footy team as they celebrate, or catch up on office work? Stay longer at chaplaincy or play footy with PACT guys? Go to St John or befriend this guy visiting? ... these questions plague me constantly, and then I am being invited to take on yet another chaplaincy??? I have to meet on Tuesday with my boss to discuss that. 

An epiphany... I DO know who I am!

I was driving into the Habitat for Humanity building site early on Saturday morning. (Yes, in spite of my protest etc. of last week... I went back!) It is at least a 20 - 25 minute drive, so as I drive, I think. Seeing some people on a bike ride I became envious.  "Why am I going back?" I asked myself. "I promised never to return, now I am changing my mind. People will think I am weak? Why?" Then I found myself answering my own question... "Because that is who I am. This family needs a house, I can help build a house and I help people, that is who I am! Plain and simple... no piffling argument can stop who I am!" ... I may be seen as weak, as flip flopping, but the epiphany was the realisation that deep down I know who I am... "I am a guy who values helping people. To 'be' for me, is to reach out to people!" 

It is like one of those weighted little toy men with a rounded base. You can push them over but they will bounce back to sit upright... so I can be distracted from my essence by various things (like last week's hissy fit) but I will bounce back. Like a compass can be turned around, but eventually it points north again. I am here in life to support, share with, help, be in solidarity with people... that's who I am. 

Driving through town I got to thinking about ministry. I had a list of things to do before Sunday. Why do I struggle with ministry? How come at 61 I am still wondering what I am going to be when I grow up?  Am I stupid? Immature? Weak minded? But once again I found myself answering. "I know who I am! In my core I am a supporter and helper of people. My problem is not a weakness or identity crisis.  My problem lies in answering the question, how best do I express this inner core? And sometimes 'religion' does not seem to be the best medium to express that." 

I found this a helpful epiphany... My uncertainties and struggles are not with my identity... that is sorted... I am a follower of Jesus, a servant of people etc. But my struggles and uncertainties lie in "how and where best do I express that identity?" 

I finished the week feeling like I am extremely privileged to have spent time with so many interesting people. I have also valued my friendships.

Photos:

Morning tea with friends at the Habitat site as the sky darkens.

Rugged up against the cold, building yet another fence with my friend Jane. This is the fifth Habitat house we have worked on fences together.

 

How could I???

I have been stamping my foot saying, "I have had enough of being dumped on by Habitat for Humanity! I'm not going back!"

Yesterday Mike, the prospective owner of the house brought a big arm load of bread for our Drop-in centre. We sat in the Space2B area and talked briefly. He is such a nice guy! He has worked his butt off to get this house finished. He is so looking forward to moving into the house before Christmas! As I sat there looking at this gentle lovely man, I thought, "How can I refuse to work on his house just because some people pissed me off?" Apparently some of the issues that annoyed me were discussed at the Directors meeting last night... maybe my hissy fit was not a waste of time??

Bugger! I was looking forward to a Saturday off!

The language of sport.

I have often been cynical about the place sport is given in our society, and I remain cynical. I often want to scream... "It's only a game!" But two things have happened to me in the last two days that show the value of sport.

I spent Tuesday morning up in our Church Drop-in centre with the Street Footy Team which represented Dunedin in the Street Footy Festival in Wellington last Saturday. It is all related to the Homeless World Cup. These are"excluded people" who play a form of soccer. I have been involved with them. They went, did not win much of anything except they won the Fair Play award. I texted them on Saturday some time and told them that to me they were all winners before they even left for the tournament. They have all made healthy changes in their lifestyle because of their involvement. Yesterday they were "debriefing" and looking at the photos from their big trip in our drop-in. It was fantastic talking and sharing with them, they were still on a positive high three days later. It was such a great experience for them.

Today we had a man from the Philippines, a plumber from Iran and a Chinese man we know as Mike (Along with others) in at our Settlement Resource @ Space2B. Mike can read English very well but struggles to speak it. We were talking and struggling to make conversation. It was a hectic time trying to understand these folks' English and assess their needs. Mike, who visits regularly, suddenly said, "I must play you in ping pong sometime." We were all tired from trying to converse, so I said, "We can do it now." He and I raced upstairs, found ball and bats and played fast paced table tennis for 35 minutes, laughing, grunting and celebrating. Gone was the language barrier. There was no cultural barriers. He is rich, I am, well, poorer. He is youngish, I am old; he is of uncertain religious affiliation, (I gave him a Bible and he's read the New Testament) I am a follower of Jesus..... but playing table tennis we were brothers enjoying each other's skills, company and friendship. Again there was a warm sense of connection.

I am cynical of top level professional sport, but it is a barrier breaker and a great motivator for many people. Maybe I should not be quite as cynical as I am.

Photos:
Mike (table tennis "bro")
The proud Dunedin Street Footy team
Playing the Christchurch mob.

"Spat the dummy"... "Threw my toys out of the cot!"

Grumpy at Habitat

I went to the Habitat house on Saturday. I was there very early and reconnected water to the site. I then settled in to do some boxing on a path, but a whole heap of things turned me ugly.

• The building committee members changed their mind on how it should go. We had to change what we had done.
  
• Because of instructions from one of the leaders we had people attempting to bring barrow loads of gravel down through where we were meant to be erecting the boxing.
• I am trying to be just a volunteer on site and yet I had people coming to me looking for work. It was a frustrating time. I felt that the people who were meant to be leading the show were not doing their job. They were doing a nice wee job together, oblivious to what else was happening on site and the leadership others needed. 
• Some time early in the afternoon they finished their job and decided to come round to where I was. One wanted to "help" but was just telling me how to do stuff I already knew how to do. I dropped fairly big hints and some direct suggestions to send them off. I mouthed "bugger off" to one, and he took off to the other end of the path to work. But the other, a good friend, started to tell me that what we had done was wrong. 

I had had enough. I have been frustrated for years with the way the Habitat builds are run. We tend to go from week to week, making it up as we go. I have often felt that there were already too many people putting their oar in, so in a commitment to the families, had just buried my objections and frustrations and kept attending faithfully and doing whatever was expected of me. At organisational levels at different times I had made suggestions for change but these were usually ignored.

But on Saturday, when this guy looking at a job half done said, "It's not straight!" I saw red. I said something like "F**K ... That's it ...I'm going home!" and began to collect my tools into the van. On my second trip back to get tools, in anger I blurted an old saying my father used to say jokingly to my mum, "Fools and women should not see a job half done!" ... my workmate, a woman was glaring at me in disgust, but at that point I was so angry I couldn't care! All my years of frustration were coming to the surface. I informed my wife I was leaving, then climbed in my van and drove off. I did not spin the tyres or slam the door, in some ways I was still calm about what I was doing.  I went home, changed and walked up my mountain. My wife eventually left the job herself, came home and rang me during my walk. It is amazing how fast you walk when you are mad!

I think I have decided I have done enough for Habitat for Humanity and it's time I gave it up. I had an email from one of the leaders involved, I replied with essentially what I have told you, and said, "You guys are on your own now!" Today, with a bit of sadness, I emptied my tool boxes, put away my tools in the drawers and on the shelves in my workshop.  After thirteen houses I think its time to stop. It has not been as much fun lately.

What is heresy

On Sunday I talked about Mark 13, where Jesus begins to talk about the future and what has been called the "second coming". (I tend to think of these things as symbols of what is ultimate.) The message seems to me to be that we will always live in times of trial (Plumber's language: "Shit happens") and followers of Jesus in the midst of trials need to "be on their guard" and stay on course. 

Now many Christians think that staying on course and not being led astray is the same as "believing the wrong things", getting led off the orthodox path. That's the way some of the commentaries I read interpreted it. But I think it is staying true to the way (the values, the lifestyle, the purposes) of Jesus in the midst of and in spite of tribulations. I am a "heretic" when in the face of trouble I do the less-than-loving deed. I had an example of this recently. In a discussion one earnest Christian was ranting against Muslems. He was saying that we Christians  "are too tolerant, we accept them into our country, we give them the right to say what they like and practice their religion, we forgive them, we try to understand them... they will take over our country! Why should we be so nice?" I waited to see the response of the group. One lovely lady responded, "Because that's who we are.... we are not being Christian if we do not do those things." You see, by being militant, closed and intolerant Christians, in my view, we are denying Jesus, and are in practice "heretics", however "orthodox" our theology.

Was I a heretic.. denying Jesus by "spitting the dummy" on Saturday?

This is the question I have been asking. What is the "Jesus response" to all the frustrations I have had with Habitat for Humanity and in the situation on Saturday? And further to that, am I being loving by putting away my tools and moving on? And if I am wrong, how do I lovingly respond or deal with my frustrations? I have tried discussion and committee involvement etc etc. Are there horses for courses, and I am not cut out for Habitat as it is now? ....I think my angry outburst let Jesus down, but leaving was OK.  After all he overturned tables in the temple to make his point! 

I do wish life was simple!

Sometimes I do OK

There was an article in the community paper yesterday about Tim. He is heading off tomorrow to Wellington to take part in a Street Footy Festival for "Homeless" people. He is a part of the soccer I have been playing with PACT social soccer group on Thursday mornings. I became part of it to try to encourage a Dunedin team to go. Jason from PACT has got behind it and trained up this team. Tim comes to our drop-in centre and as I was playing him in table tennis one night I asked him if he would be interested in soccer. So I take him down. He has been working on his fitness and is as keen as mustard. He was selected for the team and the paper tells the story of him going from being a problem drinker to stopping drinking. He told us tonight that he has not had a smoke for a week. He is making great strides in sorting his life out in other areas also. 

And, I say this with a sense of grace and privilege, I had a wee part to play in that. I am going in tomorrow morning early to see the team off. I wish I was going with them. I hope they enjoy it, whether or not they win. They are winners already. I asked Tim to text me the results while I am working on the Habitat house during the day. (if I feel better by the morning) We had 60 through our drop-in centre tonight. It was so nice to share their company, to laugh with them, share their world, hear their stories and play games with them. But I was not feeling too well and I am now sooo tired.  I have felt like I make a wee difference in some people's lives today though.

Photo from the Allied Press Star Midweeker paper.