I had a weep.

 Treatment

We came back from Christchurch after another treatment of Chemotherapy and Immunotherapy for my mesothelioma. I have found the three-week cycle tough going, and we were to review the results of a CT scan. There was no advance in the cancer and just a little shrinkage in the last two months. The oncologist tried to put a positive side to this but we could tell it was not what he was hoping for.  As well as that there was a difficulty with the treatment impacting my 72 year old kidneys. The decision was made to stop the chemotherapy. While life will be easier, it does mark a surrender to the disease. There are no more attempts to shrink it. Immunotherapy which will continue will only hold it, but will eventually impact other organs in my body in the same way it is already impacting my thyroid. So, though for me it was not surprising news, it was a bit disappointing and had me facing again the reality of my impending death "some time" in the next year I suppose.

No further real contact

We Skyped with my son in Edinburgh and had quite a good talk with him as he told us of some of their thinking for the future of their family. He has a Polish wife and three delightful children. There are of course challenges in the Covid situation in the UK that could only get worse. I guess I realised that I will never be with him or them in person again. I love my kids and their kids.

Floods

I watched the news and there were unprecedented floods in Germany, Belgium and in the Netherlands. But also floods in our home country of New Zealand with well over 1000 people evacuated and considerable losses. Still in New Zealand and around the world there are people denying climate change. 

Disent

There are farmers and nurses protesting Government directions in New Zealand. The costs for housing in New Zealand is escalating, normal families struggle to own their own home, and renting is expensive. While New Zealand is doing well with Covid and even the economy is doing reasonably well, there are growing inequalities and resultant social impacts of that. 

Too timid?

I am writing a "book" about my convictions now but also re-reading my favourite books about Jesus. My "book" may never be finished as I am reminded of different aspects of Jesus' message and keep adding to it. I become more convinced of the distortion of Church life and directions as not really representing the way of Jesus. The thing that hurts is that I cannot now do anything about it! I have had my life and looking back I wonder if I have been too timid? People have commented that I pushed the boundaries in small ways that many could handle. I tried not to cause major division or to do things that would stop people listening to my challenges of lifestyle, priorities and directions. But I am asking, "Have I wasted my time?" "Have I been too timid?" It is too late now. 

It all piles up

So as I settled into home again after treatment I felt deeply sad. I had a wee weep. I told my wife how sad I was and she just came in and held me. All is OK. It was the accumulation of all these things and more that overwhelmed me. I am learning that for me life is closing down and the old activist David will be taking a back seat. Life feels out of control, but that is my new reality. Chemotherapy side effects drag you down anyway. Today I decided on a project, went out to the workshop to begin, but returned feeling too shaky and weak. I guess I am allowed a weep every now and then. 

A couple of early print offs of my "book". 

The three shelves of my favourite "Jesus" books.

 

A privileged journey.

 I visited the Doctor at 10 a.m. last Friday and met a retired firefighter in the waiting room. We fell into familiar warm conversation. He had lost his wife early in the year. He was arranging a meal for retired firefighters who were going through a tough time and they would like me to attend. I then went down town for a blood test and to buy lunch, and bumped into another retired fire fighter. Again warm supportive and friendly conversation followed even though we were standing in the cold. I felt and appreciated the warmth of these two encounters.

I took my lunch to St John Ambulance and was there from midday until 2:35 p.m. in friendly conversation with various people. There was interest, concern, laughter and general sharing about life and their work. Several people said,"If you need help in the time ahead there will be plenty of people here keen to help."

I moved on to the fire stations from 2:45 until about 5:15 pm. and enjoyed more conversations. I came home feeling really privileged to have been a Workplace Chaplain. It has been and still is an enjoyable and valuable part of my life experience.

I was at an ecumenical four day seminar about mid year in 1993 and shared a motel unit with a senior military chaplain. We seemed to click and discussed theology, our work, our perspectives and experiences in life. On the last morning he asked me if I would be interested in chaplaincy in the military. "You're the type of person we are looking for!" he said. "You would be good at it." I told him that my latent pacifist tendencies may not fit well in the military.

During the four days I had similar conversations with the late Ruth Mitchell. She was director of Workplace Chaplaincy (Interchurch Trade and Industry Mission) in the Otago/Southland region. Again we talked about our work, our perspectives and some theology over breaks in the program. In the last session I ended up sitting next to her. "Would you be interested in Industrial Chaplaincy David, you would be good at it. Some ministers are not good in the workplace, but you are the type of person that could fit into the work scene." I said I'd think about it. She got in touch with me when she was preparing to run a week long live-in training week for new Industrial Chaplains. I agreed to attend. They watched your interactions with others. As well as various training sessions, they checked out your micro counselling and conversation skills. At the end of it a panel of people was to interview us and then decide. I walked into the room and immediately the chairman said, "There is no need for an interview, you are well suited for the job, we can offer you a position when you are ready."

In February 1994 I began in chaplaincy at the Fire Station for four hours a week. The chiefs there said they would review it in six months because some chaplains had not been ideal. I guess they forgot to review it and 27 years later I am still there. I am chaplain to a brewery and to St John Ambulance. I did a Newspaper for just a couple of years but four chaplaincies and Church ministry was too much.

I have been so privileged to have been a chaplain. I love the job, and feel like I have heaps of people who are real friends in the journey of life. The experiences, the interactions and the sense of being useful to people have been such a rich part of my journey. I am so grateful that I did say "Yes" to Ruth.

Grumpy me.

The side effects of the last lot of Chemotherapy -Immunotherapy were not as bad as the first two. Next week I go for my fourth lot of treatment. They do exhaust me though.

When I get to Church these days I am sitting in the pew and not taking any leadership role. We have different preachers leading and I am finding it a bit difficult.

Confession...

I find that I get annoyed when shortly after the first hymn a prayer of confession is called for, then the speaker declares, in different words depending on the preacher for the day, that I am forgiven and should be thankful for the mercy of God. It grates with me. It sort of pictures God sitting upon a throne, basically angry at me, awaiting me to grovel for forgiveness. Once I have done that he has given this servant of his the right to declare that I am forgiven. 

It is the wrong picture of God for me. My mum was a bit like that. She demanded I come to her and apologise, even after she had hit me for what she thought I had done wrong. If I didn't say I was sorry I might get hit again. Even if I did apologise it was an admission of guilt, so I got given some task I had to do as further punishment for my wrong. Either way I was made to feel really bad.  

My Dad was different. Mum would sometimes send me to my room and say, "Wait till you father gets home." I would hear Dad arrive home and hear mum telling him the terrible wrong things I had done. Eventually Dad would come into the room. He would sit on my bed and simply say, "What's up Mick? What has happened?" and he would listen.   God is love - that is what love does, seeks to understand. 

These preachers have been taught to lead in a confession. I can hear the lecturer telling them. "Worship involves A.C.T.S. Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving and Supplication." But as I follow Jesus' interactions with people in the Gospels I cannot think of anywhere he asked people to confess at the start of a conversation? In the story of the "Prodigal son" or perhaps more correctly "The Waiting father", the son has not even begun to speak before the father throws his arm around him in a loving welcome. He does not get a chance to finish his carefully prepared confession before party preparations are underway! That is not the way it feels in Church. 

Church ... this is not me!

Last Sunday I attended Church. It was what has become a normal service at Church these days. The leader was bright and did her best to communicate her message. It was orthodox theology. I disagreed with how she unpacked the reading, but that was because I see John's Gospel a bit differently.  Indeed  I have found that I now agree with John Dominic Crossan, that the Gospels contain parables about Jesus, which involve fact and fiction. But her sermon was in a way, my first draft. It did not hit earth for me anywhere. The whole service was insular and felt like we were part of an in-group and our job was to get more people into the in-group. I thought that if I had one of my fire fighters at Church they would have felt like they did not belong. It was orthodox, inward looking with a very "old" fifties perspective on Church. The hymns and songs tended to see salvation as getting to heaven when we die. I stopped singing several times. That is not where I am at. I noticed my wife having a little weep during one verse where I had stopped.  

All in all I felt like "I do not belong here. This does not express my faith."  These preachers are younger people so I ache for the church of the future.  A blogger friend gave me a book recently. "The Christian Agnostic" by Leslie D. Weatherhead. Written in 1965 it has these lines.  "Many wonder how the elaborate ritual and ceremony of some services can possibly have developed from the teaching of a young man in a boat on the sea of Galilee who talked so simply and yet so profoundly and relevantly to very simple people. Others find so much meaningless drivel preached in sermons that they feel it is a waste of time to listen to them and a crime to encourage them." 

Cancer treatment...

On Monday I get a CT scan. This will tell the oncologist and us if the Chemotherapy and Immunotherapy is making any difference to the cancer in my lungs. As soon as the scan is done we will travel to Christchurch where I will get another dose of chemotherapy and Immunotherapy. This will be my fourth dose and initially that was all the chemotherapy I would have. But in his notes from last session I notice the oncologist is thinking of the possibility of two more sessions. That will be six more weeks of "no life" or greatly disrupted life. What will be the gain? I am wondering how I will respond? I am leaving my options open so that I can be open to all the possibilities, but I would be happy if next week's chemotherapy is my last. We will see what happens. A lot will depend on the result of the scan. 

Meanwhile... at the fire station...

I was pleased to be able to return to St John Ambulance and the fire stations to do chaplaincy yesterday. Last Wednesday I was invited for coffee with some fire fighters, and I have had a few phone calls so I have not been completely out of touch. At St John I learned of changes there and simply caught up with people. They expressed pleasure at having me come in and I enjoyed the conversations as staff passed through the lunch room. At the fire station I was warmed by the reception I received. It was good to do normal stuff, introduce myself to four new firefighters, ask about the calls responded to and to give and receive cheek in the normal fire station banter. Good too to hear about people's lives. There was interest but welcome and warmth. There is restructuring happening so I asked one man up in the management circles how he was going and where he fitted in now. We talked about that for awhile and he asked about my cancer treatments.  I shared my adventures with treatments and mentioned that at some stage I would have to pull the pin on chaplaincy. He is Maori and he smiled... "Yeah but... you know that we Maori have a saying... It says that once you are whanau (family) you are always whanau. And you are whanau Dave and around here you always will be." I told him that is how it feels like returning, that I found support and aroha (love) at the fire station and that it was special.

Dunedin Central Fire Station... a unique photo in that the building opposite had been demolished and the concrete pad covered with rain water.