sustain:if:able kiwi

Solvitur Ambulando “It is solved by walking”

It’s been a difficult week for me in my role as Principal of Uniting College. A whole range of responsibilities and requests have tended to leave me feeling a bit bleak.

What has been immensely helpful is to return to the discernment processes important to my call. I tend to journal as a spiritual practice. Twice. Privately and publicly, through the blog.

One advantage of journalling is in moments like this week. I tend to value written words over spoken words, and so a journal means you can return and read again what you felt in the past, what you discerned in the past.

College has a labyrinth and it was while I was walking the labyrinth that an important piece in my call process occurred. Here is what happened

On the morning of Monday 28 October I was interviewed for the role of Principal of Uniting College. After lunch, I went for a walk. Uniting College is located on the grounds of the Adelaide College of Divinity, which has a labyrinth. So rather than walk the block, I walked the labyrinth, praying the Lords prayer.

The phrase “Your Kingdom come, Your will be done” was particularly meaningful, as I prayed for myself, for the Joint Nominating Committee, for the other applicants.

The labyrinth at Adelaide College of Divinity campus was specifically designed by an Adelaide stained glass artist Cedar Prest. The opening is in the shape of a large communion cup, laid in beautiful mosaics, while the centre is in the shape of a central wafer. As I paused at the centre, I had a strong impression, the realisation that there is plenty of space in the centre to be truly me.

I began to walk out, reflecting on how the pattern of the labyrinth take you from edge to centre, and out to the edge again. It struck me that there were parallels with my own life at that moment, that my interest in mission and fresh expressions might be seen as on the edge, while being a Principal of a theological college is getting pretty close to the centre. It is a role that comes with plenty of expectations of what a Principal should do and be.

And the impression returned: that there is plenty of space in the centre to be truly me.

At that moment, my cell phone rang. It was an ironic moment, interrupted by a cell phone in the midst of the peaceful contemplation of a labyrinth. It was a delightful moment for the call was about the matter I was praying about, a request to attend a further interview in the Principal process.

Standing there holding the phone, it all felt profound, that in praying Your Kingdom come, Your will be done, might I actually be able to experience plenty of space in the Principal role to be truly me.

Twice, this week I’ve returned to that labyrinth and walked it again. I’ve relived the experience, relived my anxiety as I first entered, paused at the centre to recall the freedom, grinned at that moment when the phone rang.

There’s a further thread that didn’t make it into my journal, but which has been helpful to experience again this week. That is the value of walking. All you can do in a labyrinth is walk. Take one step after another. In so doing, you move from centre to edge, and edge to centre.

Back in 2012, what I realised was the importance of “flow,” the need not only for a centre and an edge, but for the movement between the two. They only connect by flow. I wondered if my season as Principal would be about “flow”, attending both to centre and edge in a way that brought flow.

In other words, take one step after another.

That is all I have to do.

Take the next step.

laying the table: creationary Psalm 23 and John 10

I had a few minutes today, in which to put together some worship for College chapel (20 minute chapels that take place weekly on Tuesdays and Wednesdays). I wish I could have given it more time, but a run of unexpected commitments ate into my planned preparation time.

The lectionary texts for this week include Psalm 23 and John 10. The theme that seemed to emerge was “laying the table.” It links “You prepare a table before me” with “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly” and communion. It also connected with my experience during the week. Last night I brought home a bunch of sun flowers for the family. They sat on the kitchen table overnight and just seemed to light up the room. So “laying the table” began to be a theme by which to frame the service.

So I began by telling my story and then inviting folk to lay a flower on the table and name something in which they were finding beauty and life. We ended up with a table spread with flowers. It was lovely, a physical call to worship and expression of praise, our praise, unique to today.

I then noted that the Christian tradition gives us more to “lay on the table.” I laid the Bible on the table, then asked folk to pass it around, reading a verse each from Psalm 23.

I then noted that the Christian tradition gives us more to “lay on the table.” This time, baptism for cleansing. A short prayer and then I sprinkled water from the font over those gathered, over the table, over the entrance way, and used some sentences from John 10 as the Words of absolution.

I then noted that the Christian tradition gives us yet more to “lay on the table.” I placed on the table bread and wine. By now the table was very richly symbolic – praise, Scripture, confession and absolution in baptism, communion – all laid by us as a community in ways both personal yet connective with the Christian tradition. Indeed, a table prepared before us, one in which we find life, and have it abundantly.

Which led naturally into intercession, praying for places that lack abundance.

Below is the worship order with some more exact wording: (more…)

how a voluntary society in a rural town made eHistory

I love stories of innovation. Here is one of a voluntary group in a small, rural town, who made eHistory. The full story is here, but to give you a taster, I’ve made a summary, using words from the entire article.

Carnamah is a town and farming community [of 500 people] 300 kilometres north of Perth. The Carnamah Historical Society was founded in 1983 to collect, record, preserve and promote local history. Made up of folk with a background in wheat and sheep farming, they have no ongoing funding and are volunteer run.

To share history and heritage they created online content, 600 pages. Then primary school educational resources. Then an online data base that utilised virtual volunteers to help with transcription and indexing tasks.

The result: thousands more people have discovered and now have a strong and personal connection; donations of heritage material; featured in National Museum of Australia exhibition; appeared in Inside History magazine twice.

The difference is simply that we’ve made a lot of history discoverable online. We want to share, not just possess. We, as a [history] sector have a terrible track record of doing what we’ve always done and not straying too far from the familiar path. It comes down to attitude. Will you learn or try what you don’t know?

The essential ingredients that tend to be lacking are not ideas, examples to follow, time, availability of funding or technical skill. They are very often attitude, ethos and organisational culture.

I think there are a lot of encouragements and challenges in this story for any group in our changing world.

where would we pilgrim in South Australia?

Four overseas examples of pilgrimage and faith formation have got me asking – where would we pilgrim in South Australia?

• In New Zealand, Kelvin Wright, Bishop of the world’s most southern diocese, spent the 40 days of Lent on Te Harinui (Maori for Glad tidings of great joy), a pilgrimage from one end of the diocese to the other.
• In Essex, Stephen Cottrell, the Bishop of Chelmsford, (whom I thoroughly enjoyed interviewing as part of my research in sustainability and fresh expressions), is embarking on ten different ten mile walks. Each finishes with a quiz the bishop time, as part of Stephen’s personal passion for evangelism. Each is linked to the walking of the first missionary, St Ced, who arrived in Essex more than a thousand years ago.
• In Ireland, just before Easter, Jonny Baker took ten of his pioneers to try and connect with the wild spirit of Irish Christianity. It involves travel, storytelling and time to reflect.
• John and Olive Drane are about to take a group of Doctor of Ministry students to Lindisfarne for a week. It’s a place that drips with mission history, including the pilgrim way.

These four overseas examples of pilgrimage and faith formation have got me thinking – where would we pilgrim in South Australia? Where would we go to connect with the stories from God’s past activity, in order to help discern our participation in God’s future?

I have a student doing a Guided reading with me on this very topic. She’s going on “Celtic” pilgrimage to the UK. More importantly, as she does, she’s asking what it means back in her local, rural, community?

Now I know that at Uniting College we have Walking on Country in which we spend time listening to indigenous stories. And in July there is a Mission immersion trip to Melbourne, to look at examples of current mission practice.

Are these the same sort of innovations? Or is there a local mission pilgrimage piece that’s still beckoning us?

year of the student

It is a new term this week at Uniting College, so to help focus the team, I placed a visual reminder on all the doors down the corridor.

Titled Year of the student, with a picture of 6 different shoes, it is a reminder of work we did as a team at a beginning of year retreat. Last year was effectively a Year of Compliance for us as a team, with multiple government registration processes. We passed all with flying colours, but the danger was we remained in an administrative mindset.

So I suggested that this 2014 year we make the Year of the Student. One of our team found multiple pictures of shoes. We each chose a pair and invited ourselves to imagine being a student. A case study, of arriving late to a first class, helped ground us in our “student” shoes. A bit of feedback from first time students kept us honest. From there, we brainstormed what we could do to focus on student experience. It was a great exercise.

So with a new term, it was time to remind us all of what we dreamed at the start of the year. And to prepare us for some evaluation at our team meeting on Thursday.

taglines. learn! lead! live! Why not learn! serve! live!?

A few weeks ago I presented a paper at the Beyond Education conference. The topic I was asked to address was theological education in leadership formation. I argued that the words leadership and theological education were not either/or alternatives. Instead, I used the work of Mieke Bal to argue for a hermeneutical approach to change, one that expected both theological education and leadership, one that made sense of our pluralistic and post-Christian context. I sought to relate all this to the Uniting College tagline – learn! lead! live!

I was pretty pleased with my paper and thought the use of hermeneutics and cultural theorist would be well received. Alas, my presentation attracted a fair bit of academic pushback. The main focus was a strong negative reaction to the L-word – leadership. One questioner put it well. What does Jesus offer the word “lead”? Surely the only Christian way to express your tagline is learn! serve! live!, not learn! lead! live!, for that is what Jesus came to do.

I’ve continued to ponder the question.

Surely there’s more to Jesus than service? Jesus announced a Kingdom, enacting in both word and deed a new set of values; Jesus gathered a community; Jesus challenged political powers; Jesus longed to gather the lost like a mother hen gathers chicks; Jesus held the cup of suffering .. the list goes on. Yes to service, but yes also to vision casting, to community building, to prophetic and pastoral skills.

And then there’s Christian history. Banks and Ledbetter, in their excellent book, Reviewing Leadership: A Christian Evaluation of Current Approaches note how important the L-word in history has been. For the Apostle Paul, leadership resembles family life. In the Benedictine tradition, the leader is the abbot. In the Reformed tradition, the leader challenges static ways. In the Quaker tradition, the leader listens. In the Pentecostal tradition leadership is being empowered by the Spirit. Again, we see a much richer contribution from Christianity to leadership than simply serving.

Yes, Jesus did come to serve. But the fact remains that Jesus, and that Christianity, have a lot more to offer the word lead than a simple serve. And that’s one reason why we at Uniting College have learn! lead! live! as our tagline – because we want the fullness of Jesus ministry and the depth of the Christian tradition to inhabit, shape and form what we learn and live in response to the “lead” word.

why God matters Easter camp

I’m off to Robe for Easter weekend, to speak at an Easter youth camp. I work with adults most of the time, so I’ve particularly enjoyed the invitation, over the last few weeks to be thinking about Why God Matters at Easter from a youth perspective.

After much toing and froing, I’m using the events of Easter as a frame –

• Why God matters Easter Thursday?
• Why God matters Easter Friday?
• Why God matters Easter Sunday?
• Why God matters Easter Monday?

It will enable me to pick up different dimensions of God – in suffering, in love, in life, in mission. I will be using a range of pop culture resources, including REM, Massive Attack and the movie Vantage Point. I’ll also be using some tactile engagement. We’re going to make our own cups of suffering. Plus I’ve got my colouring Holy Week creative project I’ve been working on all week to show them.

I’m excited and nervous. In the move from Pastor to Principal, I’ve really missed talking about Jesus at Easter and I’ve loved going back through my archives, thinking about what might connect in this context. Equally, I have a fairly demanding job, so my body would love a break. Will that happen on Easter Camp at Robe I wonder? Finally, am I too old and old-fashioned to connect with young people?

Time well tell 🙂

colouring Holy Week

This week I’m colouring Holy Week. I’ve found a bit of board in the garage, which I’ve cut and prepared with a gesso wash.

And then I painted blocks of colour, adding layers to deepen intensity.

Then I applied gold leaf, in celebration of resurrection life.

These colours are not necessarily traditional church colours. But they help me, and perhaps others with visual learning preferences, step through the events of this week. I’m doing this for myself. I’m also doing this to help me prepare for Easter Camp in Robe, at which I’m speaking to young people from the rural South East of South Australia.

The colours of Holy Week make sense for me as follows:

Green on Palm Sunday, to remember those who waved palms and celebrated Jesus entering a city. Red on Monday, because on Monday (in Mark’s gospel), Jesus got angry, red-faced, and trashed the money changers in the temple. Brown on Tuesday, to recall Jesus words that unless a seed falls into the ground and dies, it can not produce many seeds. Lavender on Wednesday, to remember perfume, and the extravagant, expensive love of an unnamed woman, who poured what was possibly her family hierloom onto Jesus head. Blue on Thursday, to express the feelings of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, a soul deeply distressed, troubled, overwhelmed. Black on Friday, for on this day God died. Grey on Saturday, for on this day all of creation mourned. Gold leaf, etched with rainbow colours on the Sunday, for on this day life to the full in the here and now was re-defined.

As a result, on Monday, I have cut two pathways of response into my board, for on Monday, the events of this week leave us with some choices. How then will we live, in light of the events of this week.

Sketches from a Nameless land

Shaun Tan’s Sketches from a Nameless Land: The Art of the Arrival arrived today. (I’ve blogged previously about Shaun Tan – about the richness of seeing The Arrival performed as music, about the missiology of hospitality I see in Eric (which I’ve used often in groups reflecting on mission).)

As with all Shaun Tan products, Sketches from a Nameless Land: The Art of the Arrival is beautiful – hard cover, great attention to detail. Shaun is a cartoonist and Sketches from a Nameless Land: The Art of the Arrival explores his craft – his inspiration, his sketches, the processes by which his amazing The Arrival was made.

I’m nevertheless fascinated by the sketchbooks of other artists. I love seeing the origins of ideas, the connections with real-life experiences, the myriad choices and problems – and the reminder of what attracts us to art and fiction in the first place, its ‘made-ness.’

I often talk in lectures about “showing your working” and I love trying to work out how others in my field – missiology and pop culture – originate ideas, connect with life and unpack their work. So it’s great to now be able to do that with Sketches from a Nameless Land: The Art of the Arrival. I love the creativity, the depth of reflection, the whisper of imagination.

Calabashes, Wild Ox, U2, Virgins and Trauma

Flinders University produces a glossy publication to highlight research outputs within Humanities Faculty. It is produced by the Flinders Institute for Research in the Humanities, which unites humanities-based researchers engaged in creative and reflective investigations of culture and thought. The Department of Theology (which is Uniting College) has a one page write up in their latest publication, under the title “Calabashes, Wild Ox, U2, Virgins and Trauma.”

These words don’t usually occur together and make little sense when grouped. But as an overview of research within the Department of Theology in 2013, they are a great indication of the breadth of our focus and interests … Research in Theology is diverse and wide-ranging.

learning leadership from my garden

Last night we ate ratatouille. The onions were sweated over a low heat for 45 minutes. The herbs were added, including basil, garlic and Italian parsley all fresh from the garden. Over time, the vegetables, pepper, eggplant, courgette, tomato were added. Finally, cheese and bread crumbs mixed together.

The eggplant was grown from seed (heirloom from Diggers Club) in the garden and in the growing, I’ve been challenged about leadership. I planted the seeds back in October and to be honest, they struggled. Only a few germinated. Those that did grew very, very slowly. It was a constant battle to protect them from snails. They were rapidly overtaken by broccoli. When we left for holiday in mid-December, only two plants remained, about 2 cm high.

When I returned to work, two plants remained, but still only 2 cm high. To be honest, I was pretty disappointed. One month and no sign of progress. However, at least they were alive. Much else in the garden, ravaged by a run of 42 degree days, had wilted.

I removed what was large and competing (the broccoli) and began to water. Slowly the two eggplants grew. First flowers appeared.

Now, the fruit hangs heavy and black, a gorgeous sheen amid the green. The first fruits were delicious last night and we face the prospect of more ratatouille, along with eggplant dips, in the weeks ahead.

I’ve reflected on leadership as I’ve tended to these eggplants over the summer. It would’ve been easy to buy seedlings, but there is something deeply satisfying about planting from seed. It would’ve been easy to give up in the face of little growth, but I’ve realised the value of patience and persistence. As I’ve watered, I’ve pondered those with whom I’m relationally connected. I’ve wondered what it will mean for them to keep growing, and how I might participate in that. This has begun prayer and introspection.

I’ve needed to remove the broccoli. That was really difficult. It was large and impressive. But it was actually harming the growth of another. I’ve begun to inspect my own life, wondering what habits and attitudes are in fact choking the life of something else. I’ve begun to realise that the loss of a key person, a key leader, as essential part of the team, might in fact be an opportunity for another person to begin to fruit – differently, uniquely. Which has provided a different perspective on the current movement within the team at Uniting College.

Last week I spoke on theological education in leadership formation. It was an academic paper, that drew forth a range of academic challenges.

Perhaps I should have just told them about my eggplant. That theological education in leadership formation means planting, watering, removing, enjoying. That it also means

• tending to God’s 3 gardens – through Creation in Eden, by Resurrection at the empty tomb, by Eschatology in Revelation 21
• the spirituality of composting (here)
• the spirituality of gardening (here and here)
• the ecclesiology of garden church –  (here and practically here)
• about an outdoor faith indoors (here)
• a funny story that emerged because we as a church gave out vege plants at our annual Spring Clean community contact day
• the ethics of gardening leadership ie about why I’m a vegetarian (here) and how  little actually land you need to feed a family of 3 (here)

And as I spoke, I could have passed around some home made eggplant dip.

a yarn in the making

This is a most fascinating invitation, noticed in our local bookshop. Pre-loved jerseys are wanted – to document, disassemble and remodel. The expectation is that each has a story. So a mix of craft and story.

It made me dream of being part of a faith community like this – a place in which stories of what is precious is told, in which acts of telling and acts of creating are valued, in which the future is shaped from what is offered, to enter into a church, and church year, which was a “yarn” in the making.

It also reminded me of John Drane’s metaphor for the church, in his wonderful chapter, “Looking for Maturity in the emerging church,” in Mission-shaped Questions: Defining Issues for Today’s Church (Explorations)

The image of weaving the cloth is a powerful metaphor for today’s church. So much of what we have inherited is like a comfortable sweater that is now unraveling around the edges. We can do one of two things with that sort of sweater: either we patch it up, to try and make it last a bit longer, or we pull at the loose ends to see what happens, with a view to taking the wool, washing it, and knitting it into a garment that will be fit for a new generation. No-one could possibly deny that the unraveling is happening. It is the creative spirits of the emerging church who are acting with missional intentionality to imagine, and then to create, unfamiliar shapes and patterns of faithful discipleship that are both old and new (Matthew 13: 52).

resourcing Lent

I was asked to lead devotions for a group yesterday. Being Lent, I took 3 images from the week that was in Si Smith’s wonderful 40 series and printed them on paper.

I provided a brief introduction, of the author, of the imaginative exercise of wondering what Jesus might have done for 40 days in the wilderness and how these were resourcing my life this Lent. I then invited the group in pairs, to take an image each.

What strikes you? What Biblical passages come to mind as you look at each picture?

Share with the wider group?

If these pictures were prayer, what would it be? We’re busy people, so please keep it simple. Either thanks for … or please…

The interaction was rich, the insights important, the prayer apt, heartfelt and richly participative.

Together toward life: when The Shaping of Things to Come is much more bleak

The Australian Association of Mission Studies tri-annual conference is in Adelaide in October 2014. With Anthony Gittens the guest speaker, it promises to be a rich mission feast. The theme is Margins, Mission and Diversity and the conference will also acknowledge the tragic death of Ross Langmead.

Here is my proposed paper in which I try to connect the conference theme with my research on sustainability and fresh expressions:

Together toward life: when The Shaping of Things to Come is much more bleak.

The 2013 Commission on World Mission and Evangelism statement on mission encourages the local church in Spirited experimentation, (Local Congregations: New Initiatives). This could be argued to be a discernment of the Spirit’s activity on the margins of the church, for the sake of the world.

Such a (marginal) call is not new to Australia. The Shaping of Things to Come: Innovation and Mission for the 21 Century Church (2003, first edition) is considered a seminal Australian text in missiology. In chapter two, titled “Hope of Post-Christendom”, Frost and Hirsch present six stories of new initiatives in mission.

Investigation ten years reveals that three of these “hopes” are now closed (two incurring significant financial loss, a third misrepresented).

Such levels of failure in experimentation are consistent with data emerging from New Zealand and United Kingdom. Of the five communities described in Threshold of the Future: Reforming the Church in the Post-Christian West (Gospel and Cultures) (1998) none now survive. In the United Kingdom, of twelve communities researched by the author in 2001, only five now survive.

If new forms of church are the shaping of things to come, how might we respond missiologically to such data? Three responses will be explored. First, Biblically, in the mission of Epaphroditus in the letter to Philippians. Second, historically, how The Lost History of Christianity: The Thousand-Year Golden Age of the Church in the Middle East, Africa, and Asia–and How It Died understands the rise and fall of Christianity. Third, theologically, how a hermeneutic of surprise, emerging from Romans 8:15 (The Message) and the Pixar movie Up, values adventure over sustainability.