Tuesday morning tales....

I had a sleepless few hours in the early stages of this morning so I got up and did some work in my study. I can feel justified in taking a few moments to blog.

Enjoy them too...

Thinking of my last post. I mentioned that I saw it as my calling to be friends with those on the bottom of the heap, who may never change their destructive lifestyle. I just wanted to add one thing to that. That it it is important, I believe, to enjoy those people. Sometimes we have the idea that Christian mission is all intensely feeling for and seeking to bring new directions to people. What often happens is that we see people as "cases", that we need to exercise our religious duty upon. In some sort of sick way we are abusing those people. We are just using them to make ourselves feel good about ourselves. I believe it is important to see people as people, each with a personality and a journey. I believe it is important just to "be" with these people and allow them to "be". To enjoy who they are. I play table tennis, I chat and I joke. The Desiderata has these rather quaint words.... "Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and ignorant, they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit." While I might not want to call my friends "dull and ignorant", I do know that each has their story, their likes and dislikes, their learnings and I can find pleasure in just enjoying who they are. By allowing myself this pleasure I affirm them. I often find myself at 6p.m. on a Friday night exhausted after a busy day, not feeling like carrying on with the Drop-in centre at 6:30p.m. Then as I welcome each one and start to interact I come alive and enjoy the night.

Good bye boss..

I read the death notices every morning. (Not just to check if I am still alive!) This morning I noticed a death of a man in his 90's, I am sure he was my foreman when I started work as a plumbing apprentice. I appreciated him, he was a good man. When he met me he said, "You're Gus's boy? Your father was a good plumber, a good soldier and a good man. An all round good bugger." He knew my father when they were plumbing apprentices together and when they were serving overseas in WW2. (Dad was dead by this time) I worked for nearly three years on a big building site, there were 30- 40 plumbers and sheet metal workers and Bill was in charge of them. Bill was a short man, but had a commanding presence. He was polite but could talk straight when it was needed. We always knew when rain was coming, because Bill would start to limp.

New apprentices always had to put up with practical jokes. They were sent to the store for "left-handed screw drivers" "Come custard tarts" and "long waits". They were often set up for various practical jokes and it was important that you could take and give with good humour. But there were sometimes "initiations" that went beyond a joke. I saw an electrical contemporary who ended up stripped of his clothing, tied hand and foot and had pipe jointing goo in his hair and around his genitals and was crying on the floor of the electricians' workshop while his work "mates" stood around laughing. When I saw that I was horrified, particularly when some of the plumbers started saying that it was time they did it to their new boy. The day came when I was working in the workshop and three plumbers (on loan from Australia) came into the workshop with a glint in their eye. It was toward the end of the day and they had decided it was time to initiate the new "boy". They had the exits covered and were coming toward me. Terrified at what they intended to do, I grabbed a pair of big pipe tongs and said, "You will have to fight me to do it!" (I was very fit and quite strong in those days) As they came toward me and I readied myself to hit the first guy that attempted anything, ( and hit him hard because I knew I would probably only get one good shot) Bill entered the room, walked past them, and stood beside me with a tool in his hand, "And you'll have to fight me too! There will be none of that in this workshop!"

I would bike to work every morning and was most often a couple of minutes late. Bill called me into his office and said, "You are late and I have to dock you. I know, however, that you probably still start working before anybody else, so I will only dock your pays on Friday if you continue to be late. Try not to be, but that's the deal if you are." He was a very fair boss.

I recall after that job he was promoted to supervisor based at the office. A year or so later I was working at another site and he came to pick a plumber up to take him to a job. He saw me working, came in with the local foreman and said, "How are you doing Brownie?" I replied and we talked briefly. As he left I heard him say to the foreman, "Can I have Brownie and you can keep ........? He's a good bugger." Well Bill, you were a "good bugger" too. Good-bye boss.

I often think about people like Bill. He was wise, fair, hard working, sensitive, responsible and caring. He lived his life as a good responsible citizen, touching the lives of many people. I got a medal from the Governor General for things I do, but there are hundreds of "Bills" who live good lives, without whom life would be bleak indeed, but who never get the recognition they deserve.

Why do it?

Most often when I blog I am talking to myself, convincing myself of the values I hold. This is true of this post.

As I related to Joan Butcher at our drop-in centre on Friday night I could not help wondering, "Why are we doing this?" You see I do not expect that Joan will change her destructive way of life. I think over the next year or so we will see Joan continue to drink stupidly, sleep out, addle her mind even more, go downhill health wise and eventually be found dead somewhere. On Friday night as I put my arm around Joan to try to listen to her drunken mumbling, I discovered she was absolutely soaked. She was very hungry and cold. In some ways it is her own stupid fault! Why should I care? I could list off a number of people that we have contact with through our drop-in who will go in a similar way. I have known Terry for over 20 years. He was an alcoholic, gambling addict and hoarder when I first met him and he still is today. I have helped him move house several times. We have a funny sort of friendship but he is, I suspect, never going to change and his lifestyle is slowly taking its toll on his body. There is another named Dave who is getting close to the end of his journey. There are a few that I have seen change and we may be able to say we had a little bit to do with their growth and progress, but most go from crisis to crisis until they eventually die. Why waste time and effort on them?

I got to thinking about Mother Teresa and her movement. They would pick dying patients off the streets of Calcutta, take them to somewhere more comfortable and nurse them until they died. Her rationale was that they were to her, "Christ" and she was giving them love. It did not change their predicament, they still died, but they were treated with love in their dying. That's what I am doing with the Joans, Terrys and Daves of this world. I am trying to treat them with respect, empathy, friendship and love as they travel their journey. They of course have other friends who treat them with love, but I see it as my task to be there as a supportive "brotherly" presence, representing as best I am able, God's loving presence to them as they cope with life. It is my call to see them as God's children, my brothers and sisters and to try my best to treat them in that way. This does not mean I give them anything they ask for. They know my disappointment with their choices, and also that I am not a soft touch for drink or drug money. I am, by now, fairly street-wise and know the angles they will try. Most now have given up trying to con me. But may I never stop being their friend.

That's what I have been stewing on over the last day or so, and those are the things I am reminding myself of.

More from my graffiti board poster..

"It will be a great day when our schools get all the money they need,

and the air force has to run a cake stall to buy a plane."

"Don't hesitate to ask dumb questions,

they are easier to handle than dumb mistakes."

"Worry is like a rocking horse,

you go backwards and forwards

but it gets you nowhere."

A warm event on a cold night.

We run a drop-in centre on Friday nights at our church. A great variety of people come to it, people play pool, table tennis, drink coffee, watch TV or generally talk and catch up on each other. It was a cold rainy Friday night last night.

A reasonably regular guest at our drop-in is Joan. She is well known in Dunedin, often drunk, has deteriorating health, sometimes smells terribly and is often looked down upon and scoffed at by people. Joan, however, has a beautiful "spirit" and I feel sad about the distorted and deteriorating life she has. Joan's clothing was pretty wet and she was a little bit intoxicated when she came so I made her some sandwiches because by that time all the food was eaten.

I then found myself playing table tennis with a little girl who comes with her mum and grandparents. Her name is Summer. She is an attractive little girl about 7 years of age. Some times she is annoyingly noisy, at other times she is so cute. I was surprised at how well she returned the ball and we were playing quite long rallies as we hit the ball backward and forward over the net. Joan had finished her sandwiches and came along to sit watching us play, with her plastic bags full of "who knows what". At one stage Summer went over near Joan to retrieve the ball. As she straightened up she looked at Joan and said, "Hello how are you?" Then she followed that with "Have you got any of your paintings? You are good at painting aren't you?" Joan dug in her bag and said, "I don't know." As she pulled things out of her bag some wool came out with knitting on it. "Oh do you knit too?" said Summer, "You are so clever!" "Yes" Joan mumbled, "and I crochet too." With that she pulled out of her bag a crochet head band she had made. Summer and I looked at it, and Summer was so cute as she complimented Joan on her work and skill.

I could not help being moved by this little girl. She had none of the barriers that we adults often have. She looked past the drunken, mumbling exterior to the person inside and she complimented that person. My guess is that Joan gets few compliments. As I talked with her later, it seemed that she only has to walk into a shop and they threaten to call the police. But this little girl, who sometimes is so annoying, could see and appreciate the beauty in Joan. It was a lesson for me.

Concern for others...

There was a lady on TV expressing her mind on twitter, facebook and blogging. She described it as "Verbal vomit". .... Thinking about that... I take a turn at presenting "Radio Church" at a local community radio station every few weeks. I once asked the sound tech person if they knew how many people actually tune into the radio church. He told me a guess at a figure but then said this, "It is not really important how many people listen. For a community radio station it is more important that you are presenting a radio church service." Well its a bit like that with my blog. It's important that I blog... journal... sort of. The numbers of people reading it don't matter that much. It is important to me to reflect on life through this medium. So here is one more lot of my "Verbal Vomit". ... sorry.

I thought I'd share with you two more of the quotes from my Graffiti board poster, and some burbling to go with them.

Human beings are like parts of a body

created of the same essence.

When one part is hurt and in pain,

the others cannot remain in peace and quiet.

If the misery of others leaves you indifferent and with no feelings of sorrow

You cannot be called a human being!

- Dag Hammarskjold

On Tuesday evening we watched the documentary "Black Gold". It is about the coffee market and how it impacts on coffee farmers. In short it showed that the producers of coffee were getting very little of the money made out of the coffee beans they sell. There were about six "middlemen" who were all making a substantial profit, while the coffee farmers were not getting enough for a decent standard of living. Some were transferring to growing drugs so that they can feed, house, cloth and educate their children in some sort of basic way. It showed a cooperative working together to cut out some of the middlemen and earn more profit for the farmers and for community development. I became more convinced that because of the suffering of these farmers and their families, we need to take "Fair Trade" issues much more seriously. I am hoping to increase our awareness of this through my Church. In this small world we should not turn a blind eye to human suffering, if we can help in some way.

Achievement of ultimate worth

is loving self-expenditure

not selfish accumulation.

This really is walking to the beat of a different drum compared to the generally accepted values in our society today! It is similar to what Jesus said.... "If you save your life you lose it. If you lose your life, you find it." and other teachings that have a similar message. During the last two days I have spent a tremendous amount of time listening to people. Yesterday, I hung around for a pot luck lunch at our Settlement Resource at Space2B. I knew I should have been working, as in doing some preparation or going to a chaplaincy, but it seemed "right" to stay and converse with people. Today I did at least six hours of on-my-feet, listening, reaching out to people chaplaincy. I am exhausted but as I head toward bed tonight I feel like I have done something significant. As I listen to people or connect with people something significant happens. Giving, self-expenditure, empathetically touching another's life gives oneself a deep sense of meaning and significance. Somehow "God" happens in the interaction. It is a tiring past time, but ultimately worthwhile. I find often that when I am depressed the surest way to get me "out of myself" is to discipline myself to give myself to others. It changes things. When I am dying and I can look back on a life in which I have "given" more than I have taken, a life that has made a contribution to the fulfilment and happiness of the lives of others and not just used people, I will go to my grave (or up in smoke) a reasonably contented man. I fall a way short of the ideal. ... but on my better days I try to live out the directions in this song.

Solitude

Yesterday I had planned to diagnose car troubles, goat proof fences, dig yams and go for a run. The weather put an end to these plans. Instead I did some sorting out in my study at home. I found an old poster I prepared perhaps 25 years ago. It was a sort of graffiti board on which I had written quotes that were meaningful to me and expressed my values. Some had faded and were unreadable but before I threw it out I made sure I had the quotes. I will share a few with you in the next few posts.

If a man does not keep pace with his companions

perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer.

Let him step to the music he hears

however measured or far away.

- Henry David Thoreau

After an evening service in my first ministry, a friend, a lady I knew very well came up to me and quoted that at me. She said that I walked to the beat of a different drummer. She commented that I would probably find life difficult because of that, but "keep it up".

Solitude enables you to make contact with yourself

not to repeat like a parrot a few acquired formulas,

but to be the prophet of God within you

who speaks a unique language to each man.(person)

- Antonin Sertilonges

This is why I like to run or walk alone fairly regularly. While I am walking in the bush or jogging down the street I am getting in touch with my inner values. I can finish a walk or run physically stuffed, but inwardly fired up. I love too getting into a book by a good, original thinker. The author's thoughts and words are like a spring board to my own. I will often read madly then scribble madly as I assimilate and work out the implications of what I am reading. It is embarrassing sometimes. While I am walking in the bush I sometimes find myself speaking my thoughts out loud. I turn the corner and find a fellow walker coming the other way looking at me strangely. That happened on Saturday. I was walking, thinking and stewing and talking to myself, and this delightful Maori lady appeared on the other side of a patch of mud. She at first looked horrified, I guess wondering what sort of person she had encountered. After a brief chat she relaxed, but probably still walked on wondering. People keep telling me that I need to be talking to people to get the support I need for my work. While I appreciate the support of people and friends, to be honest I find the best support comes when I have time to talk to and listen to myself. (or is it the God within?) Solitude empowers.

Photo: Silverpeaks bush path. Reminded me of a song. I love Pete Seegar singing... he loves his music and is so natural and genuine as a person. What you see is what you get.

The week that was.

I have had a very busy week with lots of "interesting" stuff. On Monday I learned of Terry's suicide. That feeling of sadness coloured all of the week. I had activities on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday evenings. I had a radio service to record on Thursday, my normal Sunday service and service at an elderly persons' rest home. I had extra meetings slotted into my week as well as normal stuff. I also ended up chairing the night shelter meeting.... the normal chairman was ill.

Terry's friends

During the week I met some of Terry's friends, those from the Waitati community and others. He had been given support and lots of offers of assistance in the last week of his life. Again I ask "Why? Why did you do it Terry?" I was moved by the friendships he had, but also sad that it wasn't enough. One of the special moments was when Terry's mum came up to me after the funeral thanking me for my part in the funeral and my involvement with Terry. I was touched with her openness and her dignity.

Conversation Group

We have a "Conversation Group" and on Wednesday night I felt a certain freedom and companionship as we talked about "God". I could be a heretic and no one minded.

My latest chaplaincy

I was really pleased at my latest chaplaincy. People are greeting me warmly. They are starting to poke fun at me. Some chatted to me about just "stuff". I felt "at home". I will walk there with a much more positive feel. "It" is happening, I am getting "in" slowly.

Drop in Centre

We took a few of our drop in members out to Terry's funeral. (Waitati is about 17 K north of Dunedin.) When we opened the drop-in centre on Friday night we welcomed people and had to tell some about Terry. We passed around a card for Terry's family that people signed. There was a quiet warmth toward each other. It felt like we were a family together recognising that we were precious to one another. It was special.

A nice walk

On Saturday morning I walked the hour into the old Green Hut site in the Silver Peaks, turned into the bush and found the hut that Terry had built. I sat and had lunch there and walked out. The sun was shining. I loved the birdsong, the bush and the expansive views of rugged country side when there were clearings. On one of the frame timbers in the hut one boy named Zac, who said he was ten years old had written some things in pencil. In spite of some terrible spelling, he had one nice sentence. "This world is awesome!" I hope Zac still feels this way, because it is true.

Lucky man

As I look back on this week's activities, its conversations, friendships and challenges I decided that I am a lucky man. I have such variety, I have friendship and I have challenges enough to keep me going.

Photos:

• The castle that Terry built. ("Egmont Castle") Terry was known locally as the "Earl of Egmont."
• The country side I was walking through on Saturday.
• My morning tea at Terry's hut. (When I got home my wife informed me it was my lunch!)

My friend Terry...

Today we celebrated Terry's wild, weird, free, and troubled life. A very different funeral with the Waitati Malitia escorting him. ( weird bunch of fun "soldiers") Lots of stories told. Thought you might like to see a photo of him and the castle he built. He's still a "stupid bugger" for making the choice he did. Lots of people loved him... the community hall was full.