An inspiring brave politician? Can this be true?

I loved this speech by Russell Norman, the leader of the New Zealand Green Party in Parliament. I wish I had the same sort of depth and clarity of thought. He really is too good to be a parliamentarian. I voted for Labour in both the local candidate and party options. But the Green Party is probably where I belong. Watch his speech, it is worth the 15 minutes. It has inspired and encouraged me on a day when I have been struggling with depression. In my experience he has a better grasp of the way of Jesus than most Church-going-Christians and their leaders have. Here is a transcript of the most "universal" part, before he gets into NZ politics.

The context: the Christmas story

We're about to break for Christmas, a time for family, sleeping in, barbeques, trips to the beach, and spending time with our mates and family.

We will work hard and smart to repay the faith you’ve put in us to deliver a richer New Zealand with a smart green economy that works for everyone.

Our Christmas holiday has its roots firmly in the Jewish and Christian traditions. It's based on a pretty amazing story about the birth of Jesus Christ — "God in the flesh" as many Christians believe.

The story of the incarnation of God in a baby born in a stable is remarkable even to me, an atheist, because it's a story about the distant God of the heavens coming down to live amongst us on earth.

It's a story about that god decreeing that tyranny on earth and utopia in the afterlife is not acceptable and that freedom and equality must characterise life here on earth as well as the afterlife in heaven. It's a story of the birth of new hope.

The Christmas story tells us that a saviour of humanity came not as some great warrior or prince but wrapped instead in swaddling cloth — a baby born amongst farm animals, and in absolute poverty.

You know the rest. The shepherds in the field saw a bright star and followed it. Three wise men turned up with expensive-sounding gifts.

The baby grew up a carpenter in ancient Palestine, stirred up a lot of trouble later as a young man, and was executed by crucifixion, under Pontius Pilate, during the reign of Tiberius Caesar, as legend has it, sometime around 30AD.

But the story doesn't end there. After his death, the new hope that sprang from the stable in Bethlehem started to gather steam. Religious and political elites were threatened by the wild growth of a new religious sect committed to living out here on Earth the values of their God, once worshiped from afar.

The early Christians shared their resources and lived with greater equality amongst themselves than had earlier been known.

They believed that the world on earth could be a better place for ordinary people. Countless Christians were martyred for their faith, such was the threat that they posed to the ruling political and religious elites.

By 112AD, even the farmers cursed Christ's influence; Christian beliefs on idolatry were causing a slump in agricultural markets as people challenged the need to buy animals for ritual sacrifice to Roman emperors or gods.

Two thousand years later the story of the brief life of Jesus Christ still resonates.

This is why Christmas is still such an enduring part of our culture. Christmas was the start of some unlikely trouble and the start of new hope.

How the story touches me

I'm not a Christian, and there is not historical certainty about the records in the Christian Bible. But what I admire about the Christmas story is that it speaks to values I share, including some that make me feel a little uneasy speaking from this place of privilege and power. I think you'll agree we're pretty far away from a Palestinian stable.

But like all parents, perhaps particularly those newly acquainted with the role, the story of change arriving in the form of a baby has resonance in my life.

And whether we're parents, grandparents, aunties, or friends, in our children we find our own awe at the beauty of our planet; they show us what it is to be truly open minded, and in their ferocious capacity to learn and grow and change we see that things could truly change and be better.

This Christmas we wish for all our babies to have their unquestioning need for love generously met; we wish that all our children are treated with patience and understanding, trust and commitment. And we wish that all our parents have the time, support and resources necessary to give our children the best start in life.

And for us here in Parliament, I wish that we have the intelligence and compassion to choose to make things better for those who depend on us to make the right calls.

Christmas as a way to understand what really matters in life

Mahatma Gandhi said this about Jesus Christ: "I believe that Jesus belongs not only to Christianity but to the entire world, to all races and to all people."

Ghandi was right. The hopes and values Jesus Christ articulated during the course of his short life are too important to belong only to Christians. They belong to us all: believers and non-believers alike. They live within us. They are embedded in our culture. They are reflected in most of the world's major religions.

These are the values that help to lay down the essential nature of what it means to be human and guide us to live a 'good' life — good to ourselves, good to one another, and good to the world in which we make our livelihoods.

I identify with the Christianity that teaches love and compassion towards each other, especially the most vulnerable — the widows, the orphans, the sick, and those in prison. Those values inspired some of the world's first hospitals, orphanages, universities, and reforms to the way we treat those who've broken the law.

I also identify with the Christianity that demands we live with truth and justice between one another. Those values challenged the status quo on slavery in Great Britain and moved Martin Luther King to march for equal rights for African Americans.

And here, in our home, it was through applying those same values that Michael Joseph Savage turned the state on its head in an attempt to offer cradle to grave security from poverty and despair. In fact, the very first act of the new Savage Government was to grant a special Christmas bonus payment to the unemployed. Now there was a true moment of Christmas in this Parliament that gave birth to a new hope that our political economy could be bent to protect the vulnerable. That was applied Christianity.

Finally, I identify with the Christianity that teaches an awe and respect for the natural world. The Christianity that says tread sacredly through nature because God incarnated himself in the world through the person of Jesus Christ. St Francis of Assisi wrote sermons for the birds and taught us to live simply and value nature for its own sake. Listen to the dying words of Father Zosima, a character in the last work of Fyodor Dostoevsky, the great Christian novelist:

Love all God's creation, the whole and every grain of sand in it. Love every leaf, every ray of God's light. Love the animals, love the plants, love everything. If you love everything, … you will come at last to love the whole world with an all-embracing love.

[The Brothers Karamazov]

The undermining of those values in the pursuit of economic growth

Those values of love, generosity, and a reverence for nature should not sound so out of place in this Parliament.

But the talk in here is dominated by a different kind of worship — one of economic growth, at all costs. We heard this mantra yet again today in the speech from the throne.

Today the Government said a strong economy provides the resources to then protect the vulnerable and the environment. But compassion shouldn't be conditional.

The protection of the vulnerable and the environment are necessary preconditions for a successful, fair and sustainable economy.

The economic and political agenda announced today undermines the values that we celebrate.

What's worse, we still have a virtually universal agreement in this House that mindless economic growth is the overriding purpose of government, if not society itself.

There is little discussion about the quality of that growth, the costs of that growth, or how we might share the benefits and costs more fairly. There is precious little discussion of how we could possibly have never ending growth in resource use and pollution on a planet which is ultimately finite.

Other parties in this House continue to represent the elite economic and social consensus of the 1980s and 1990s Labour and National governments in which we aim to maximise GDP growth and hope that trickle down will mean those at the bottom get a few crumbs. Thirty years later and many of our families are still waiting for the trickle down.

Even our private banking system can bring the world to its knees and escape largely unchanged from the melt down. The Westpac CEO earned a $5.4 million salary this year, which included a $260,000 tax cut — an early Christmas present from the government. Why is this Parliament giving taxpayer-funded Christmas bonuses to the obscenely wealthy and not the poor?

Christ didn't accept that gross inequality is inevitable and neither should we; isn't it time we turned the money tables over in the temple once again?

Our current political and business worldview has become so focused on endless growth that it has to conveniently ignore the increasing social and environmental collateral damage that comes from mindless growth without values.

This Parliament has for the last thirty years conveniently ignored things like runaway climate change, increasing inequality, declining water quality, and growing debt.

The unqualified pursuit of growth of any kind is no longer delivering the kinds of advantages it once did, at least not to most people.

We need to grow renewable energy not inequality and greenhouse emissions.

And international organisations like the OECD, the IMF, and the UN are starting to reflect this change of heart as they increasingly document and question the environmental sustainability of economic growth at any cost and the growing inequality within developed societies as wealth is further concentrated even as our economies grow.

Inequality

We know better outcomes in health, education, happiness, and social trust are no longer correlated with growing levels of GDP in developed countries.

If the Government's measure of progress was expanded from simple changes in GDP to include social and environmental indicators, it would be pretty clear that in nearly every other measure of "progress", we, as a society, have gone backwards.

Our problem is not so much about earning more; it's about sharing what we do earn more fairly. We could earn more as a country but still be poorer if that wealth isn't shared around. The evidence is striking: less unequal means living longer, healthier, safer lives. And that's true for all of us, not just those at the bottom of the heap. More sharing is good for everyone. It's the big differences in wealth within our society that drive many of the major problems that now bedevil us. And it's not just about equality of opportunity. It's about equality of outcome.

It is not surprising that societies that allow their economic systems to produce great inequality are socially dysfunctional. How could a society be any other than dysfunctional when our society is deeply at odds with our fundamental values of caring and compassion for one another?

When those on the very top earn closer to those on the very bottom, suddenly everyone is better off: We live longer, we suffer less from mental illness, we're less violent, we trust more, we lock up fewer people, we have better health, we have higher levels of social mobility, we live with less fear.

I believe in a society like that, where we trust one another and look after one another — where we are our 'brother's keeper', not their bitter rival.

Good stuff Russell Norman... You are a brave statesman.. I hope "they" don't cut you down like we have a tendency to do with such people.  

Embarrassing Church service.

I have just finished doing some work toward this coming Sunday's church service. I get to thinking, "What's the use? Why put so much effort into it?" After last Sunday's, the first of the year, I thought, "Do I really want to do this for another year?". I'll tell you about that experience.

I had been upstairs mixing briefly with people after the service, but I "escaped" downstairs to my office. I sat there eyes glazed over, depressed as, playing solitaire on the computer. My daughter came into the office, took one look at me and said, "Are you hiding?"  I was. At that point I did not want to take another service ever. It had been quite a week. Because of Christmas I had a week off leading a service. Instead we had our big Christmas Day Community dinner which, while exhausting, is always an adrenilan rush and a high. We had celebrated Christmas together as a family, I had been on a short enjoyable tramp with my son and on the Tuesday my brother-in-law had died. I went to Christchurch and spent three days working on and conducting the funeral, which had gone well. On Saturday I drove home and attended an 80th birthday party on New Years eve. Then on Sunday I led the Sunday service. I was aware that while I had good feedback from people, it was not my best. It was not as creative as I would have wanted. So to some extent I felt I had short changed my people, but that could not be helped given the week. It is also one of the smaller services of the year, so that did not help. But the thing that upset me most was the music. It was organ music, like we have every Sunday. Now most of the people of the church are older and find that acceptable. I don't particularly like organ music, but that's my taste, and I feel like I have no choice but to go with the flow.  This time, because of the eightieth birthday I was attending there was a big family of teenagers through to twenty one year olds visiting. Their parents used to be in the youth group I led here years ago. They are a good religious family and I know that in the church they attend back home the music would be guitars, drums, lively and upbeat. I appreciate that when they are back in town, even though we do not have the same style, they turn up to worship, and they took up a whole clump of the front pews in the church. Every song we sang as the organ cranked up I looked at this line up of fine young people, and sensed that they were looking at each other, stiffling giggles, or groans at what to them is old time quaint music. Now I probably would not like the theology in the songs they sing back in their church, but I could sense their unease, and wished we could have some more upbeat instruments. Because of this and because I was aware I was not firing as well as I would want, I felt embarrassed to be up front leading the service. I got to thinking, if these motivated religious people feel so out of step with our music, we have a snowball's chance in hell of attracting anyone under thirty! For that reason when I began mixing with people after the service, somebody said something that reinforced my feeling of depression and embarrassment and I just had to escape. So down to the office to find consolation in solitaire I went. It depresses me that few others care! Of course it is fine for them, they justifiably don't mind the music as it is. But I would love to be able to reach younger people! Those we have attracted have left after a short time. We have not got other musicians in the membership, so without extra effort we cannot change even if we wanted to. But last Sunday I was asking, "What's the use? Why do I put so much effort into each week's service? We'll not make any headway." My daughter wisely pointed out that there were other good things happening in the church and these things are worth the effort. But last Sunday, and even now I am struggling with depression about this part of ministry. I need to add that I did not stay in the office, I stopped playing solitaire, toughened up and went up and mixed and mingled again as if nothing was bothering me.

Anyway, this afternoon I came back to the office from chaplaincy and started working on Sunday's service, and began to wonder, "If the people I had been talking to in chaplaincy fronted up to worship, how would they feel?" Then depression hit again, so you dear reader get to hear my unloading. Sorry.

The cost of dying

Scything grass

Today I decided to tackle some long grass down in the back vegetable garden area. I began with my line trimmer. It was cutting the grass OK but having trouble. The long grass would get tangled in the spinning head. The line would get wrapped around thick stems of plants and the cut grass was hard to get out of the way. The noisy motor and bits of grass flying every where made me give up using it. I dug in my workshop and brought out this old scythe. I got a sharpening stone and sharpened up the blade. I found it much more pleasant slowly working away with this old tool. I never have got to use it as well as I should, but it is not unpleasant to use. You stretch your muscles and raise a sweat, but it is not noisy with bits of grass and dust flying everywhere. I was once cutting long grass at the property we had at Apiti. My brother-in-law Bob (who just turned 80 the other day) arrived and picked up the scythe. He sharpened it, adjusted the handles and blade and started slowly, rhythmically swinging it. With each swish of the blade a cleanly cut pile of grass fell at the end of the stroke. It looked so easy.  He told me how. "Don't try to cut too much. Go with the 'grain' of the grass, see which way it is leaning. Keep the blade flat." I managed a little and got into a rhythm, but not as smoothly as he did. He was beautiful to watch. I enjoyed trying. I suppose it is a dying art? They used to cut lawns with a scythe and have them looking nice and flat. Maybe sometimes machines are not progress? It was certainly more enjoyable scything than fighting with the noisy line trimmer, even though I don't do it with the same rhythm and ease that Bob did.
Funeral Directors
With my involvement in my brother-in-law's funeral I heard that the final funeral director bill will come to somewhere between $7000 and $8000. (I was not impressed with the style of the funeral director involved.) We actually did quite a lot of stuff the funeral director would normally do. The coffin was not an expensive showy one. I think his services are not worth that much money! My Aussie brother knows of an Australian Funeral Director who only charges under $2000.  I think funeral directors rip us off! I would not like their job, but it really seems quite steep for the amount of work involved. I put at least 8 hours, most probably more like 15 hours into every funeral I do. The going rate paid to ministers is around $150 which works out to be a pretty small hourly rate. (I choose not to charge for funerals anyway)

That's life!

The week.

My brother-in-law, Alex Webster whose funeral I led. A big man with a big heart.

Some Christmas dinner pics.

Our Community Christmas day dinner feels like it was a long time ago, there has been so much in this week. (well I guess it was last year now?) We had family from up north staying. A tramp across the Dunedin hills with my son on Tuesday and a family birthday. Then on Tuesday afternoon I learned of the death of my brother-in-law. On Wednesday morning I drove the 362 kilometres to Christchurch (I took 4 hours - google maps suggested 5.5?) and sat in on the meeting of the funeral director with my sister and family. I spent the rest of the day speaking and listening with members of the family. On Thursday I worked all day on stuff for the funeral and on Friday, some more preparation then I conducted it, except we called it a "celebration". On Saturday we drove home to attend another brother-in-law's 80th birthday party. Today I led the normal Sunday morning service.
A Christmas dinner stories
There is a man who was a fire fighter when I first began as chaplain at the fire stations. He now contracts to the fire service for running special virtual training sessions. I had been talking to him at the fire station and he said he might call at our Christmas dinner. Well he called in early and later came back, installed himself at the kitchen sink and washed copious quantities of dishes.  I discovered him in the kitchen joking with my wife and a lovely Indian lady we have at church.  He kept at it long after most blokes would give up, then he went to a family Christmas event where he said he would probably have to do more dishes. As we shook hands warmly I thanked him and he thanked me. The Christmas day dinner was full of stories like that. A lady well into her eighties who has not long recovered from a broken hip, came and dished out meals. Last year her husband said they thought it would be the last year they would assist, but no, in spite of difficulties they were there this year to give a helping hand. I talked to one younger man. I asked him how many of our Christmas dinners he had volunteered at. He said, "This is number 15... I love it!" We have a guy who I think has probably attended every Christmas day dinner. He used to be the street sweeper in town. He came to me and said, "I haven't put my name down. Is it alright if I come?" "Yes Ken, we'll have a meal for you!" I replied. "I knew you would Dave." I later spoke to him and as he looked at the multitude he said, "I remember coming when there was only 50 here!"
The funeral
I feel so sad for my sister. She had only had less than three years of marriage with this man she really loved. For the last year of that at least, he had been battling cancer. I had to lead the funeral. I do a lot of work for every funeral I lead but this one was different. How would I cope with my sister's sadness while leading the funeral? I was struggling with sadness myself, and added to that was a deep sense of guilt that I had not got back up to Christchurch to see Alex before he died! I spent a lot of time at the house listening to my sister and others and getting what they wanted in what we were calling a "celebration". I worked on the funeral service, stewing over every word, shaping it to include the various elements they wanted included. There were a number of speakers and an open time was planned.  I also felt it was necessary to talk about unfair suffering and death and some perspectives on "life after death", ever so briefly. When I got to the Church I decided on taking a different approach. Instead of standing behind the lectern in a formal way, I thought I would stand beside the communion table or lectern and be more open, informal or inclusive in my approach. It would mean less dependency on my notes but I thought it would allow me to be more "with" the mourners. It was a risk, but I thought it worth taking.  I grew even more nervous when I recognised at least six other ministers in the congregation! "They are going to think I am nuts! This is not the "normal" way to conduct a funeral." I thought to myself, but I still felt compelled to do it. There were well around 120 people there. Here is some of the feedback I got. "That was superb!" "That was an awesome service." "It was simply beautiful" "You are an expert communicator." "You touched people in a very real way." "That was spot on! Just so helpful." "It was so genuine and real." "I found it to be a very healing service." "You talked in a way that non-church goers could identify with it." etc. etc. While I was leading I felt good about the vibes. People were "with me and with each other".  The funeral was well led, it was effective ministry to people. I felt I did not "get in the way", but rather facilitated a healing event.  I was pleased to do that for my sister.  I felt, from a professional point of view, I was "on top of my game". Age in ministry is not all bad. Because you have been around awhile you are able to read the sort of people you are dealing with. You are experienced enough to know how to respond to their needs and confident enough to try something different.  While sad for my sister, I was pleased to be able to offer effective ministry via the funeral service. I came home with a deep sense of satisfaction and fulfillment.

Funeral time...

Today I lead the funeral for my brother-in-law. They want it to be a celebration. I have led in funerals for my father-in-law, mother-in-law, a close friend and other long term friends. I get nervous before every funeral, but am especially anxious today. There are lots of people helping and I want to write a post about that at some stage. Wish me luck!

Alone but not lonely

I love company and I love solitude.  I went tramping with my son on the Tuesday after Christmas. I enjoyed the time. We went around the tops of the hills at the back of Dunedin. In the process we often walked in silence. (well to be truthful it was often me in my old age puffing along noisily while Phil just wandered up hills effortlessly) But there were times when we had good conversation.  I appreciated that. We talked about his work situation, his plans for the future and things of interest in the scenery around us. When he was an older teenager I did not get much out of him except “whatever!” or “probably”. Now he is much older and I really enjoy that he wants to go tramping with me and is happy to chat when we do. (I sometimes think it is hard on teenagers having a minister for a father)

But at one stage on the tramp I thought “I must come back and do this track by myself some time! I would really get to enjoy it!”  Then I questioned that statement. “Aren’t you enjoying it now?” Of course I was enjoying it! I enjoyed the company, but missed my solitude?

For seven years I have had a running/walking friend who has exercised with me on Sunday afternoons. I really enjoy the company. I get to let off steam about stuff. I appreciate hearing about a different life and work experience.  I enjoy my friend’s personality, we laugh, listen and sometimes philosophise.  But I enjoy walking and running on my own as well. I would not like it if every run or walk (depending on the state of our knees) was with the company of my friend, good though it is. I like running by the wharf or walking on the tracks or up my mountain by myself sorting my world out in my head as I do.

I enjoy the company. But I also enjoy times of solitude. On a tramp I get to really take in my surroundings in a deeper way than when I have company. I do not only walk past the bushes, wild flowers, birds and rocks but I “commune” with them. I “take in” and take on board the open spaces and feel better for it. It is a different experience than chatting with someone.  It can be the same track and environment, but experienced in a different way. And it is the same with running alone. I can commune with my inner being as I run. Running with someone else is different, fun also, but in a different way.

I drove up to Christchurch today by myself. I find I don’t turn the car radio on at all. I love the drive. I enjoy the art of driving and get into a world of my own doing it. It is different than driving with a friend or my wife. Time alone is precious, enjoyable and somehow refreshing. Different.

I guess its like eggs. Sometimes fried eggs, sometimes scrambled. 

A mixed day

On top of Flagstaff. The Otago Harbour is under that fog.

The fog started to clear from the town end of the harbour.

Looking down on Blue Skin Bay covered in sea mist

A view of "my" Mount Cargill on the way back down the hills.

A great hike
My son and I headed out early this morning to park a car about 10k on the road north of Dunedin. We then drove in another car to the "Bull Ring" a car park up a hill on the south side of Dunedin. We were going to walk the ridges that are a backdrop to the city. Over Flagstaff summit, along to Swampy Summit and down the Burns track back to the first car. We started walking at 8:15 a.m. we arrived at our parked car at 11:50 a.m. It was a great walk with lots of hills, tussock country, different track styles, and different vegetation. It was quite hot with no real breeze even though were high up. A nice morning of exercise and conversation.
Birthday lunch
We did the walk reasonably quickly because we had to go to my daughter's place for a birthday lunch. My foster daughter has her birthday on 27th December. She has severe intellectual handicaps and is now 34... I think.  She had been staying at my daughter's place over Christmas so we were gathering there for a birthday lunch. I really love how my children treat her as a sister, no questions asked. She is not their sister, she came into our family when she was 9 years old. As far as they are concerned though, she is their sister and they make a fuss of her on her birthday. I wish we all would learn to just decide to see each other as brothers and sisters, for under God that is what we are.
Sad News
My sister rang me last night to tell me that her husband was having a tough time in the hospice. I intended to go up to Christchurch tomorrow to see him and that timing seemed adequate.  As we were driving back to the other car after our walk today my cell phone went. My brother was ringing to tell me my brother-in-law was low and expected to go in the next 48 hours. I began to make arrangements to see if I could go today. (I needed a new supply of blood pressure pills and had a doctors appointment arranged for Wednesday morning) After the birthday party I had a call from my niece to tell me that he had died peacefully. He and I had briefly talked about his funeral, but we had thought we would get together again before the end came. It was not to be and I am now feeling guilty about my busyness that has prevented me from catching up with him before his death.  We have managed to arrange an emergency supply of the pills so I will go up in the early hours of tomorrow. I am feeling guilty about not seeing him. I am feeling guilty about not getting to chaplaincies because I will be busy. I am feeling guilty because I will be leaving before my son and daughter-in-law leave for home. Every where I turn I seem to be neglecting something or someone. I am deeply sad for my sister, and she is my first responsibility at this point in time.