Haere haere haere kuia ma ...

My first experience of Tiger Air today, flying to and from Melbourne to pay respects and bid a final farewell to 'Aunt Jean'. My husband's only remaining aunt, she has become increasingly frail over recent months and died on Sunday after 97 very full years of life. As he is in Grand Rapids, I really wanted to represent the 'wider family'. And so pleased I went, as I was the only relative apart from the immediate family. Even if I am a relative-in-law. So for the first time, and as the first in my own immediate family, I have met my cousin-in-law and his wife, children and grandchildren. Strangely and yet too frequently it is a death that facilitates this happening. Now that I can no longer exchange seasonal greetings with 'Jean', I look to make new contacts and ensure that future generations know the heritage they share.

It makes me think of the important role of networker or family connector that is present in several branches of my family.

• When my grandfather left England to settle in NZ in the first part of the 20th century, his cousin Olive made sure that successive generations knew of the antipodean family
  
• My grandmother and father were wonderful recounters of family lore that has enriched my understanding of identity
• My mother has handed down 'heirlooms' with details of the history of each. Today I wear a brooch that first belonged to my great-grandmother. And in the china cabinet is the vase given to my grandmother by my grandfather on their first anniversary

The Friday Five this week is about forgetfulness and lateness. In my present state of contented connectedness it is easier to reflect on timeliness. A time for every purpose under heaven .... I respect the way in which many traditional cultures are able to attend to the need of the moment. Meetings get cancelled if there is a death in the community. People arrive neither punctually nor late, but when all that is needed has been done.

This has been a very timely day. The right time to open up new relationships. The right time to try a new airline and enjoy discount fares. A very measured pace (partly due to the early hour of the cheap fare). A call from work about a serious student matter came just as the afternoon tea was finishing. And returning home at just the right time to collect youngest household member from music practice. Taps seems very appropriate:

Day is done, gone the sun
From the lakes, from the hills, from the skies
All is well, safely rest;
God is nigh.

And to Aunt Jean - Haere ra kuia ma, haere ki toku kainga tapu, ake ake ake, amine
Go beloved child of Alice and Matthew, go repected matriarch of our generations, go to your true home forever, Amen.

A brilliant Friday Five from Jan

Friday Five: Where on the Stairs?

Halfway down the stairs
Is a stair
Where I sit.
There isn't any
Other stair
Quite like
It.
I'm not at the bottom,
I'm not at the top;
So this is the stair
Where
I always
Stop.

Halfway up the stairs
Isn't up,
And isn't down.
it isn't in the nursery,
it isn't in the town.
And all sorts of funny thoughts
Run round my head:
"It isn't really
Anywhere!
It's somewhere else
Instead!"

— A. A. Milne
“Halfway Down,” When We Were Very Young

Thinking of your childhood as a stairway, when did you feel (and how did you feel then)

1. at the bottom?
The bottoms related a lot to my introverted tendency to internalise and concretise the religious messages I heard - so that when I got home from school and my mother was not in the house (of course she was usually out the back in garden or whatever) my immediate gut reaction was that the stories were true and Jesus had come again and I was not good enough and had been left behind. The real bottom was one particular day when a sibling was being subjected to an undeserved punishment and I was torn between lying and saying that I committed the misdemeanour (which I hadn't but it would have spared the pain of someone younger than me) and acting like Jesus who took the punishment (but he never had to lie and say he had done something wrong when he hadn't).

2. at the top?
That total security of being loved and part of a world and universe much bigger than myself that also comes from a conservative evangelical background. Stories of faith were lived out in our immediate and extended family with aunts and parents' cousins coming back from their exotic 'overseas' (see below) missionary endeavours with ivory tusked elephant statues and eloborate carpets, songs in strange tongues and faces that seemed to reflect a joy and passion that was inspiring and contagious.
3. halfway?
Those moments of realising that my parents were not indeed 'all-knowing' Two occasions that come to mind are asking my father how the colour of my dress came out the same colour in the photograph he took and he tried spinning me a line about a little man inside the camera who painted the colours onto the film. And asking why New Zealand was only one place but 'overseas' was lots of places. Again poor Dad bore the brunt of this as he explained that there were a lot of places in New Zealand. I just knew that the difference between Hamilton and Auckland was NOT THE SAME the difference between France and Scotland. But I couldn't work out how to ask my question. It felt kind of frustrating. Looking back I just love my perception that there were two constitutional entities "New Zealand" and "overseas". Links to my bemusement at reading an English children's illustrated dictionary where the definition of 'abroad' (a term we didn't use in the antipodes) showed a man in a suit with a case and the explanatory sentence was something like 'Uncle went abroad'.

4. At this point in your life, where would you place yourself on your own stairway?
This can only be answered by Doug Savage

5. Identify a place for you that "isn't really anywhere" but "somewhere else instead."
The train (or bus) - the daily commute. It's not in the household, it's not in the town; it's not at the desktop, it's not at the sink; it's not with my family, it's not with my students. One of the reasons I resist getting a laptop to start work en route. And why the train is probably where more than 80% of my iPod listening and my knitting occurs. It is somewhere else instead!

The letter W

Today's post is brought to you by the letter W:

As the handsome fellow got up and dressed his sleepy wife rolled over and rested until she woke some time after 9.30 a.m. on a sunny Sunday morning. Her chores were soon completed, including the washing which was soon flapping wildly (well that is an untruth but gently is not a W word) on the line. Their beautiful elder daughter waited for the wonderful couple to eat their lunch. Then the family wended their way along the Warringah freeway to the waterside at North Head. They wandered along the walkway astounded at the view until at the Western end (actually I have no idea which direction it was) they were looking out towards Watson's Bay (this bit is true). Then right in front of them, clearly visible from the clifftop, swimming along in the water, were two WHALES. Real live whales. WHALES! Swimming in the harbour. The people watched as one fisherman continued to stand in his dinghy, eyes following the line he was casting, oblivious to the whales that swam within metres of his boat. A small launch motored around a bend and over the top of one of the whales, cutting the engine as the other whale surfaced alongside. We watched as the whales swam side-by-side out of our line of vision and into the Tasman sea. What a day.

Liturgical elements for Pentecost 6

Call to worship (Psalm 24 with a glimpse of the prophet Amos)

Lift up the gates and open the doors that the King of glory may come in

Who is the King of glory?

The one who founded and created the world, this is the King of glory

Lift up the gates and open the doors that the King of glory may come in.

Who is the King of glory?
The one who is strong and mighty, who never passes by the people of God, but shares body and life with them, this is the King of glory.

Lift up the gates and open the doors that the King of glory may come in.

Who is the King of glory?

The one who is with all people in every place, with each person in each space breathing life in all fullness, this is the King of glory.

Prayer of praise – from Thom Shuman PCUSA

Every moment, we have the chance
to breathe in your goodness and grace;
every hour, we have opportunities
to share your love and hope;
every day, we have occasions
to rest in the comfort of your heart.
In you, we discover the fullness of time,
Delight of the Ages.

In every challenge we face,
we can find the strength to persevere;
in every person we meet,
we can find the blessing you have sent;
in every need we encounter,
we can find the help you would have us offer.
In you, we discover the fullness of life,
Companion of our days.

In every conflict of our lives,
there is your healing we can offer;
in every brokenness we experience,
there is that reconciliation we can receive;
in every difficulty which makes us stumble,
there is that dance of hope you would teach us.
In you, we discover the fullness of faith,
Promised Spirit.

God in Community, Holy in One,
in you we discover the fullness we long for

Prayer of confession

We join your dance of joy

Responding to the echo of your heartbeat

Delighting to be your people

Sometimes we get so caught up in the dance

That our focus shifts from you

We can get caught up in pleasing others

and lose sight of what it means to be fully ourselves

We can make rash promises

And get caught up in damaging and destructive patterns of behaviour

just to save face

(Thom again - from this point on)

Forgive us, Gifter of every blessing. Open our hearts and fill us with your mercy. Open our ears that we may hear the songs of grace you would teach us to share with the world. Open our eyes that we may see the hope we have in Jesus Christ, our Lord and Saviour, our inheritance of love and joy.

Silence is kept

Assurance of Pardon
Before the earth was shaped, God created the music of grace which sets our hearts, our souls, our feet to dancing with joy in the hope God has given to us.
It is God who has created us, it is God who has redeemed us, it is God who sends us forth to live as brothers and sisters of Christ. We are forgiven.

Thanks be to Godde. Amen.

Prayers of the people

Good Lord, hear our prayer

And let our cry come unto you

We gather as your people, good God of Grace

Who have heard and reflected on a part of your story this morning

Good Lord, hear our prayer

And let our cry come unto you

We pray for those who speak out against wrongdoing

The sometimes prickly characters who make us uncomfortable

Especially when they get too close to truth

And whose lives are in jeopardy

When truth challenges the powerful

Good Lord, hear our prayer

And let our cry come unto you

We pray for children and the adults in their lives

That praise and encouragement may be genuine and life-giving

We pray for adults and children in households and families

That relationships in all their complexities may be affirming and respectful

And family violence eliminated

Good Lord, hear our prayer

And let our cry come unto you

We pray for our nation and State

For our Prime Minister and Premiers, and all Ministers and officials

For our local and community leaders, for every citizen and resident

That we may recognise the significance of what is happening around us

And act to promote reconciliation within our nation and between nations

To preserve and protect our world and our planet

Good Lord, hear our prayer

And let our cry come unto you

We pray for ourselves – a people of God

For Kent and Rick and Lois and Bruce

Ann and Brian

.....

Good Lord, hear our prayer

And let our cry come unto you

In all domains of life, gracious Godde

Stir our hearts that we may seize every opportunity to learn from our brothers and sisters in faith, to stand with them and to carry their stories close to our hearts each day

Grant wisdom and courage to speak and act in the best interests of all, especially of the most vulnerable

Grant courage and strength to those trapped in life patterns and those in prison or treated inhumanely

When the darkness seems overwhelming grant faith that hope can be found in the darkest night

Help us to pray in the words Jesus taught us

Our Father ...

Amen

Top End

Darwin. Such a beautiful city. Today I started the day with a walk and a swim at Grungle Downs - a B&B I wholeheartedly recommend. Then attended my aunt's funeral at the Thorak Regional cemetery. Already 32 degrees (Celsius) by 10 a.m. Picnic lunch in the park with cousins and their children and grandchildren plus close friends. Coffee in Darwin city. Great explore of an Aboriginal Art gallery. Two movies at the deckchair cinema. Now bedtime. One of those well-rounded complete days including the conclusion of a life wonderfully well lived. Rest in Peace.

Ladybirds and other summer blessings

What a blest day we have had. A call at 8.30 a.m. signaled that friends from NZ were passing through Sydney (en route to Denver) with a day to spare. So out to the airport, drive into town and walk around Mrs MacQuaries's chair with tired but keen on climbing three-year-old who made the most of all the sandstone steps. Then home to our 'empty nest' for a great time of catching up and renewing friendship.

After several 30 degrees plus days, and 43 degrees again yesterday. today's cooler 24 made a late afternoon in the garden very pleasant. Hibiscus trimmed back strongly and all the paths swept and clean. It's time for our six-monthly massive rubbish collection and there is now a pile of tree branches on the kerb. Plus various other unfixable items cleared from the garage.

I hadn't realised that the hibiscus provided a home for so many ladybirds. They were flying everywhere as I pruned. I have never really seen them airborne before. Very beautiful! A very tiny one I relocated by hand. But the others seemed to find new (attached) branches quite easily. Although I was aware of the asault I was making on their territory.

So carried away with the gardening we were late for church. But not too late for the blessing of Matt Redman and Beth Redman's song:

Blessed be your name in the land that is plentiful
Where streams of abundance flow, Blessed be your name
And blessed be your name when I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness, Blessed be your name

It was the high point for me. Amid contextless pleas for change and a meander through the failure of the congregation to embrace the 'change' (undefined) recommended by a review in 2001. I was a bit lost in the sermon, and some of the other music, but this song does give me a sense of linking with the varieties of experience of life, and the hope and praise that can come forth in those diverse circumstances.

It made sense of the call from our partner churches in Fiji for additional aid as they face the aftermath of severe flooding. Of course the political instability and denial of democracy means that nations like Australia and New Zealand are not providing aid through government channels.

This comes after a solid and productive week at work, orientation with fellow tutors for 2009, movies on Friday and Saturday nights that were well worth seeing. Valkyrie for (limited) insight into a period of German history - and I was pleasantly surprised by Cruise's performance. Doubt for intriguing glimpses at the intricacies of human relationships, gender power imbalances, trust and justice.

And that empty nest. A sense of rightness rather than bereavement. One child celebrating 21st with friends interstate (due home on Tuesday). One still serving ice cream to deserving (or at least paying) customers in the Great Barrier Reef region, and taking a dinghy to a neighbouring island to celebrate Australia Day tomorrow. And one safe with a host family in the USA central time zone experiencing temperatures below zero and where quite possibly no one knows that it is Australia Day weekend!

Mind you I don't think anyone here noticed my careful selection of gold and green flowers for the church arrangement! It's kind of time we started engaging with the community around us rather than continuing the 8-year-plus conversation about how we must so engage.

Christmas Meme

From Ruth - who got it from Jan and decided to play.

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags?
Definitely paper
2. Real tree or Artificial?
Artificial. So I can put it up for All Saints and keep it 'til Epiphany (or even 'til Candlemas as I did this year)
3. When do you put up the tree?
Oh I already answered that. I aim for All Saints. But this year it was well into December.
4. When do you take the tree down?
12th night - and if not then it stays up until Candlemas in February.
5. Do you like eggnog?
Yes, great winter treat.
6. Favorite gift received as a child?
One year our Aunt made bride outfits for our dolls. All different. They were so gorgeous.
7. Hardest person to buy for?
Well - I try not to buy (Advent Conspiracy fits well with my philosophy) but I do seem to have difficulty 'getting it right' for my immediate family
8. Easiest person to buy for?
Above notwithstanding, I don't mind buying for the family member who is always appreciative of an annual undie restock.
9. Do you have a nativity scene?
Several. This one set up at home, and holy family at work on my bookshelf. Plus smaller ones about the place.

10. Mail or email Christmas cards?
Bit of both but I do prefer the tactile involvement of writing in 'real' cards.
11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received?
With a birthday just a few days later, I always felt short changed when well meaning rellies said "we got you a bigger Christmas present that will be for your birthday as well"
12. Favorite Christmas Movie?
Joyeux Noel, Santa Clause, I haven;t seen The Nativity yet.
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas?
No special time
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present?
Yes
15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?
Almond biscuits. With lemon or ginger.
16. Lights on the tree?
None this year, They died last year and I haven't replaced them.
17. Favorite Christmas song?
One???? Five CDs on the player are my faves - Blind Boys of Alabama; Jamoa Jam (I'm dreaming of an Island Christmas); Old Fashioned Christmas (from a bargain bin - has some wonderful really old stuff I'd never heard of); Carol our Christmas; Joy to the World - Scottish Festival Singers.
18. Travel at Christmas or stay home?
A mix. We have almost always been too far from family to even attempt to visit. Last year we were at home and all the children returned to us. This year we are driving on the first 'leg' of our summer camping trip around the NSW south coast.
19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer's?
No
20. Angel on the tree top or a star?
Angel
21. Open presents Christmas Eve or morning?
After church on Christmas Day
22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year?
Needless spending
23. Favorite ornament theme or color?
Our tree declares I am an angel girl, and I also have boxes of bells (ring out good news) birds, stars, balls (to represent the world/globe) etc etc. I also love using indigenous flora of this country e.g. the Advent wreath on our table.

24. Favorite for Christmas dinner?
Picnic at the beach with chicken, salad, christmas cake and cherries (or any stone fruit really) a bottle of lemon lime and bitters and other tasty treats
25. What do you want for Christmas this year?
Justice and Joy
26. What do you like most about Christmas?
Anticipation of Advent, joy of Christmas, wonder of Epiphany. And wearing my Christmas earings.

If you want to play, leave a comment here. It will be fun to read other answers.

Eye Spy

Sophia posted the Friday Five: Windows of the Soul over at RevGalBlogPals this week, and as I believe it is still Friday in several places I'm in for a play!

Inspired by her husband's Lasik surgery yesterday, Sophia asks us to say a little prayer for his safe recovery and share our thoughts on eyes and vision.

1. What color are your beautiful eyes? Did you inherit them from or pass them on to anyone in your family?
I was always so proud to have brown eyes like my Dad. Technically more on the hazel side. I've passed them on.

2. What color eyes would you choose if you could change them?
No desire for change.

3. Do you wear glasses or contacts? What kind? Like 'em or hate 'em?
As a 'woman of a certain age' I need my reading glasses. I love them. Diamantes on the side!

4. Ever had, or contemplated, laser surgery? Happy with the results?
No

5. Do you like to look people in the eye, or are you more eye-shy?
More eye shy.

Bonus question: Share a poem, song, or prayer that relates to eyes and seeing.
I'm in love with a green-eyed man (his eyes are the most gorgeous I've ever seen) of Irish ancestry so those smiling Irish eyes are the ones humming in my brain. Thanks Sophia for the angel song and the bright gay Saturday I'm dancing into. Happy weekend!

Advent longings

A wonderfilled seasonal Friday Five from Sally this week:

"Imagine a complex, multi-cultural society that annually holds an elaborate winter festival, one that lasts not simply a few days, but several weeks. This great festival celebrates the birth of the Lord and Saviour of the world, the prince of peace, a man who is divine. People mark the festival with great abundance- feasting, drinking and gift giving....." (Richard Horsley- The Liberation of Christmas)

The passage goes on, recounting the decorations that are hung, and the songs and dances that accompany the festival, how the economy booms and philanthropic acts abound....

But this is not Christmas- this is a Roman festival in celebration of the Emperor....This is the world that Jesus was born into! The world where the early Christians would ask "Who is your Saviour the Emperor or Christ?"

And yet our shops and stores and often our lives are caught up in a world that looks very much like the one of ancient Rome, where we worship at the shrine of consumerism....

Advent on the other hand calls us into the darkness, a time of quiet preparation, a time of waiting, and re-discovering the wonder of the knowledge that God is with us. Advent's call is to simplicity and not abundance, a time when we wait for glorious light of God to come again...

Christ is with us at this time of advent, in the darkness, and Christ is coming with his light- not the light of the shopping centre, but the light of love and truth and beauty.

What do you long for this advent? What are your hopes and dreams for the future? What is your prayer today?

In the vein of simplicity I ask you to list five advent longings....

In this time of waiting
for the coming of the Saviour
For what do I long?

• For a world where justice and peace are rampant
• For every child to be born in a context of love and concern
• For meaningful connections with family and friends across seas and continents
• To be in touch with nature; to feel the sand between my toes and the wind on my face
• To eat well and share abundantly; and know this experience is universal
  

Remembrance

Remembrance Friday Five from Sophia. I thought I was too tired to play but seeing this topic I was instantly engaged and energised.

1. Did your church have any special celebrations for All Saints/All Soul's Day?
No - UCA is not exactly liturgical, at least in our part of Australia. I did attend a 'Blessing of the Hands' mass for our students on All Souls' Day. Homily was about purgatory.

2. How about Veterans' Day?
Definitely NOT in church. We have clear views about separation of church and State and even flags seem to be not allowed. Again though a yes for work - I used McCrae's poem In Flanders' Field as a reflection in our curriculum meeting. And I have worn a poppy all week.

3. Did you and your family have a holiday for Veterans' Day/Remembrance Day? If so, how did you take advantage of the break?
Not a public holiday here. I actually like making the 2 minutes silence in the midst of a 'normal' routine.

4. Is there a veteran in your life, living or dead, whose dedication you remember and celebrate? Or perhaps a loved one presently serving in the armed forces?
My nephew is currently serving in Afghanistan, my uncle served in World War II in Scotland. I recently blogged about my great-uncle who was killed at Gallipoli (serving with the Scots forces). I also have great respect for those who chose the hard path of conscientious objection and who bore the ridicule of their peers and the harsh punishment of their nations.
5. Do you have any personal rituals which help you remember and connect with loved ones who have passed on?
Memory isn't exactly a ritual but I do hold memories and family history very close to my heart. As the next generation of our family begins my sisters and I are more conscious of passing this knowledge on to our children and their grandchildren. Our family is good at attending funerals, which is a very direct way that younger generations learn about their forebears and meet members of their wider family and clan networks.

In honour of Uncle Tom

Another wonderful poetry invitation from Christine at Abbey of the Arts who posted this picture, taken during a trip to trace maternal ancestors. to inspire us to celebrate our ancestors, either as a group, or dedicated to a particular person (human or animal in nature).

The photograph is from Christine's invitation,

My great-uncle Thomas remained in Inverness when his parents and 12 siblings emigrated to New Zealand. Within a few years he was killed at Gallipoli. My grandparents named their first son after him, and that little one died in infancy. On a visit to Inverness I was stopped in my tracks and strangely moved when I saw his name on a wall plaque commemorating the men of Inverness, so many of them young men, who died in the first world war. I don't have a photograph.

I never met you
and I was moved to tears
when I saw your name

Lal remembered
her older brother always
and we heard stories

Thomas Gillanders
You were loved
You are remembered
You have family throughout this world
Rest in Peace

Coin toss

Songbird posted the RevGalBlogPals Friday Five this week. And she's a great early bird so thankfully I can complete it before I go to bed - thanks! Lectionary based, this is what she says:

Well, Gals and Pals, this weekend we'll be rendering unto Caesar what is Caesar's, and that has me thinking about coinage.

1) When was the last time you flipped a coin or even saw one flipped in person?
It must be a while ago! I can't remember.
2) Do you have any foreign coins in your house? If so, where are they from?
We have a 'funny money' jar where we stash the coinage we bring back from other places. Of course now living in Aussie our familiar NZ currency is in the jar, along with coins from several Pacific nations, Italy, UK and even some US pennies and dimes. My sister has been much more creative with her jar. It formed an endless stream of rainy day activities when her children were small. They could find all the coins with a 20, or a 5 or whatever on them. Or sort them into the country they came from. Or sort them by size or colour. Or year. Then look up information about the countries, write stories, make rubbings of the coins. Mine just sit in the jar.

3) A penny saved is a penny earned, they say. But let's get serious. Is there a special place in heaven for pennies, or do you think they'll find a special place in, well, the other place?
I'm not sure about heaven but these coins have a special place in my memory, and in our faith tradition. The countries I have lived in abandoned the 1c piece long ago (NZ has also abandoned the 5c piece). But the memory lives on. I would have a penny for the Sunday School offering. And heartily sang 'Hear the pennies dropping, listen while they fall, every one for Jesus, He shall have them all' or sometimes my favourite 'Give said the little stream...as it hurried down the hill'. For the rest of the week, with a penny you could buy 6 aniseed balls, 4 of most other lollies, but only one gobstopper. My grandmother has a brooch made out of the tui on the penny. Not quite as elaborate as this one but still a classic cut coin piece. And pennies certainly feature in the traditional Christian stories - one can buy two sparrows, and a widow was commended for giving two of them - all that she had.

4) How much did you get from the tooth fairy when you were a child? and if you have children of your own, do they get coins, or paper money? (I hear there may be some inflation.)
I think we got threepence or sixpence. My children got 50c for the first ones - then started to become aware of market value which was a $1 coin for 'small' ones and $2 coin for molars.

5) Did anyone in your household collect the state quarters? And did anyone in your household manage to sustain the interest required to stick with it?
Suspect this is a geocentric question. Just looked up what it is all about. I would not have the patience to collect 50 quarters over 10 years! Even as a J.

Personality change!

A young member of our family came home excited from school after completing a Myers-Briggs and got her Mum and Dad completing the on-line questionnaire. I'm not who I thought I was! No longer an INFP I've become a 'J' INFJs are quite rare beasts apparently. Less than 1% of the population. And "in fact, sometimes mistaken for extroverts because they appear so outgoing and are so genuinely interested in people." But I'm in good company. With John Calvin, Mother Teresa of Calcutta, Nicole Kidman and Nathan the prophet of Israel (where do they come up with these lists???????). It was fun to revisit this. Even in the rather dubious on-line format. And I can of course no longer say "Just what I'd expect of a J - except to myself!

Get on your blue stockings and dance dance dance!

To celebrate the 115th anniversary of women enjoying the right to vote in Aotearoa New Zealand. A great cartoon for the day is posted here. With the gumboot missing! In 1893 the courageous efforts of pioneers like Kate Sheppard led that little country to be the first in the world to have universal suffrage. An excellent historical survey is posted here. I didn't realise that there are women alive today in the USA "who grew up at a time when women were disenfranchised" (thanks Shamaal for that quote). And renew my gratitude for the context I wasn't even aware of as I grew up. The YouTube video I just posted is quite long and more doco than fun - but does give a 'warts and all' overview of women in NZ.

A few years ago I was privileged to meet a member of the Afghanistan Commission on Human Rights. They commented very favourably on the important role NZ Peacekeeping forces had played in ensuring safe passage for women to the polling booths. These young men and women of our defence forces may not have been conscious of it , but they were possibly living out an age-old principle of our nation. Despite my Pacifist stance, I am pleased to support a family member who will be serving in that challenging country before long.

It perhaps explains, in part, the deep outrage felt by our family when we immigrated and found in this new land that the First Australians were able to vote for the first time just 41 years ago. And an interchange from my childhood between my mother and a great-uncle on the situation in South Africa. My Mum had said something along the lines that Africans should be happy if they had a good employer and were well looked after. Uncle Rod made a forceful statement about the right to citizenship and to vote. And this from a man known more for his extreme piety than his social activism. In the 70s. Reflecting back it was probably one of the pivotal moments in my personal faith development.

And while we can and should dance, we need to remember all those women internationally who do not yet participate fully in the governance of their communities. Lamenting with the psalmist and with U2 - How long ...

My heart's desire ...




Cartoon by Dave Walker. Find more cartoons you can freely re-use on your blog at We Blog Cartoons.

Trust me I'm a professional!

Crimson Rambler's post hit my buttons! When she commented how frustrating it is as a priest when people tell her what to say at funerals.

Disclaimer: This post is a therapeutic outpouring of personal story and is not an overt or covert criticism of any person or priest or professional living or deceased on any planet at any time. It is a psalm of praise for the wonderful professional support we received at a vulnerable time. It just may not sound like it at first.

Having relatively recently been part of a 'bereaved family' I now cringe at how bossy we were with the minister. I even told him what to put in the prayers. In fact I wanted him to use a prayer that I had written as an exemplar because it was such an excellent model. I wasn't at all certain that he would get it right! Family members did write and present one of the prayers.

And we refused to tell all Mum's life-long friends about longstanding but largely-hidden-from-public-view issues that had affected our family life. It kind of seemed a betrayal of her personal history despite the minister's best CPE stance that everything had to be put out in the open. Why should people who had known her for over 50 years suddenly, after her death, be told of something she had kept to herself through long years. Also he only seemed to pick up on the negatives of what we said and not the positives of living with a person of extremes. I still think we were right - our position was that we were not prepared to say anything about Mum after her death that we would not have said in front of her during her life.

I guess from the other side of the fence we were farewelling someone we loved very very deeply and who (for us her daughters) had known us our whole lives. And because of the circumstances we were entrusting this task to someone who had some brief associations with her in the past but who had known her mainly as a frail and rather lonely elderly woman.

It was a huge thing for us to entrust someone with this farewell. We were in the midst of really mixed up emotions. Our Mum was very particular - and idiosyncratic - about aspects of her faith and we wanted that to be respected. She had distanced herself from the institutional church for several years. Yet avidly watched religious television and talked about faith with family members. Not all of us are active churchgoers and we didn't want to force any member of the family to take part in something that was false to their personal position. Some of our family are at the evangelical end of the spectrum and were already saying things like "Hallelujah Father! Welcome your daughter home at last." It was also important not to compromise their experience and beliefs. It was so important to get it right. For everyone. Without reducing the frustrating, wonderful, generous, stubborn, innocent, loving, hurtful, hurt, family-focused, opinionated, creative mother with whom we enjoyed complex life-giving relationships. And me being an INFP control freak I placed that task of getting it right firmly on my own shoulders.

Yes I know the minister was the professional. As I write this I hear all the clergy reading it chorusing "Don't you think we know that". "We have trained for fifty zillion years and we know what we are doing." "Your family is just like the hundreds of other families we have done this for." "Just let me get on with my job."

Well perhaps that was part of it. For you it is your job. For us it was our life. It was our only chance to do this. We knew the people who would be there. Our aunties and uncles had also known us our whole lives, and our Mum had been part of their whole lives (at least the ones in her immediate family). To the professional we were one of many. We were farewelling our only mother. We had a lot invested in making sure that the farewell was good and that there was room for healing and rejoicing. And to be honest we had all attended some pretty terrible funerals over the years. As well as some amazingly good ones. We didn't know which kind this would turn out to be.

The tears are pouring down my face now. I didn't realise there was so much stuff I still had to work through. But how did it go you ask? I know my partner was surprised at how controlling we were and if he reads this he might be surprised at the persisting depth of feeling over four months later (as I am actually). If the minister blogs his post would probably read like that of Crimson Rambler. It's probably the example of difficult family he uses in CPE courses.

But for us - it was brilliant. All these people from Mum's childhood appeared, the church was absolutely packed. The singing was of the high calibre that can only come when you combine Baptist and Presbyterian traditions going back for generations. The minister must have received an extra measure of grace as he patiently and with great care held the whole assembled group together and supported participants. As well as stage-managing the non-appearance of two readers (their father tried to take a 'short-cut' to save time driving to the church and ended up running into a major obstacle that delayed them significantly), a soloist bursting into tears, a candle in a church with no matches, and a prop that didn't fit on the stand provided. And he drove me to the crematorium with grace and care. Comments afterwards reflected that together we had achieved what we set out to achieve - a realistic but positive celebration of a life lived sincerely. There was a good balance of tears and laughter. Of course facilitated by the gentle professional management of the event. A person who had been estranged by comments from Mum reestablished a relationship with our family (and works 500 metres away from one of my sisters so they can meet for coffee or lunch). Driving along the river at the end of the day I wanted to tell Mum how good it had been and to let her know who had come to pay their respects.

Reflecting back I realise how frustrating this must have been for a person skilled and trained in pastoral care to deal with. It must have felt as if we had a basic lack of confidence in his abilities. Yet our drive to control was based on some really deep fears. That a real person would be made into some kind of plaster saint. That small parts of a life now completed would be exaggerated and be the focus of events. And some real hopes. That hurts might be healed. That understanding might grow. That someone who had found it hard to accept love might be remembered with love.

When we realised that this was understood we were able to be supported and loved through our farewell to our Mum. Thanks to CR for helping me to see just how much pastoral care was involved in bringing us to that point.

At the end of our tribute to our mother I said:

... The words we will use later today in the committal part of the service are especially apt for our Mum: "Lord, I am your servant, and now I can die in peace, because you have kept your promise to me."

She had a strong sense of God’s faithfulness to her, that kept her free from harm. God had kept his promise to her. She had seen her children grow to mature adulthood. She was so proud of her grandchildren making their way in life in their own special ways, as strong caring individuals with purpose and plans for the future. The imminent arrival of her first great-grandchild gave her a sense that the clan identity was continuing on into the future. She was ready to depart in peace.

We will miss her so much. We rejoice that she is released from the restrictions and limitations that made day-to-day life more difficult. We cry and express our sadness, yet we do not lose hope because we know that love is stronger than death, and that the life she has shared with us has helped us to become the people that we are.

This morning I walked along the bank of the Waikato river – the river where her father chose to make his home, where Mum was born, committed her life to Christ, trained as a nurse, married, and where the three gorgeous redheads were born. The old Central Baptist Church on the banks of the river was the scene of many family weddings and other occasions. It was the river beside which we lived as a family at the Narrows, and runs through the town where each of us has lived as adults, where we farewelled our Dad eight years ago and where our Mum is now laid to rest.

I made my own letter L from a piece of discarded flax, trimmed from the bush so that new shoots can grow and flourish.

This L is for letting go.

So depart in peace dear mother
Let the current of God’s love carry you far into his heart
where you are treasured forever
Enjoy fullness of life in the Saviour
whose death and resurrection we celebrate this weekend
And may the Holy Spirit keep your Spirit safe through all eternity

We will now have a time of quietness to remember our mother, sister, Grammy, friend. Let go of what we need to let go of, and keep deep in our hearts the things we need to remember and cherish.

I still have some letting go to do. Thanks for bearing with me - those who have got this far. And thank you so much to CR for the opportunity for this therapeutic outburst. You must be such an amazing pastor to your people.

Fireworks!

Sally posted the Friday Five at RevGalBlogPals this week. I can't resist a quick play even as I have conference presentation to prepare for next week, bag to pack, and early morning flight to Brisbane in the morning. This is prob my last blog in a while - so thanks Sally. It's a good one!

Sally writes:
I have to admit that I am chuckling to myself a little; how strange it seems for me a Brit to be posting the Friday Five on 4th July! I realise that most of our revgals will be celebrating in some way today, but I hope that you can make a little room for Friday Five! From my short stay in Texas my memories of the celebrations are of fireworks and picnics, one year we went in to central Houston to watch the fireworks and hear the Symphony Orchestra play, we were welcomed and included, and that meant a lot!

So lets have a bit of fun: 1. Barbeque's or picnics ( or are they essentially the same thing?)
In 1962 our family (Mum, Dad, me and two sisters) was living in a rural area Maihiihi. In a birthday speech to our Mum in April 2006 we said, " Many of you will have visited us at the store in Maihiihi. For us those were the picnic years. I think our parents knew every creek in the ... districts and we frequently enjoyed lunchtime outings accompanied by a rather cold swim" So 'picnic' conjures up a very warm memory of family outings, often in the company of grandparents and friends. This one at the beach some summertime. AND I also love a 'barbie' at home or at the park with a crispy salad and lots of tomato sauce.

2. The park/ the lake/ the beach or staying at home simply being?
Yes to all of the above

3. Fireworks- love 'em or hate 'em?
Love
4. Parades- have you ever taken part- share a memory...
Now this is a USA 4th of July memory. 1996. We were in California for only six weeks and invited to join the Sleepy Hollow Church parade. It was a wonderful day and our children rode in style!

For those of us on this side of the world ANZAC parades are always moving as a participant or observer. I never go away without a tear. And while I said on this side of the world - it is amazing to know that there is a bagpipe composition to honour NZ (and others) who lost their lives 'upover' (if that is the opposite of downunder). This photo from NZ Society Scotland of the 2006 parade in Arbroath.

5. Time for a musical interlude- if you could sum up holidays in a piece of music what would it be?
Any Dave Dobbyn really. Here's 'Slice of Heaven' live from London

Celebrating parents

Well this post is light-hearted (at least to start with) and clearly in the trivial facts category. I was intrigued to note in Sally's glimpse of paradise that Fathers' Day was celebrated in the UK last weekend. And then in Ravelry this evening I read lusciousluka who said:

Fathers are acknowledged and celebrated around the world throughout the year. The majority of countries celebrate on the third Sunday of June (or June 15th this year), with our friends down under throwing parties on the first Sunday in September. For a complete list of Father’s Day dates around the world, check out this list on Wikipedia.

SO a quick trip to Wikipedia seemed in order and I was amazed to find out that around the world there are 21 different Fathers' Days, with the first Sunday in September being an entirely Australasian custom. AND there are 32 different Mothers' Days often with explicit links to Holy Days and seasonal festivals. In many Arab countries the vernal equinox marks Mothers' Day, which is also the Persian New Year. Australia and New Zealand are in the most popular group; 64 countries celebrate Mothers on the second Sunday in May. France can never experience the juxtaposition that we did this year, as Mothers' Day shifts (from last Sunday in May to first Sunday in June) if it would coincide with Pentecost.

What a bunch of trivial facts. You will have noticed that I am a pedant with the punctuation as well - against Wikipedia's advice that: Although normal English punctuation guidelines indicate that the holiday should be spelled "Fathers' Day" / Mothers' Day (as it is a plural possessive), common usage dictates that the ostensibly singular possessive "Father's Day" is the preferred spelling.

But - here is the reflective bit - I was surprised at my surprise about UK Fathers' Day. Despite the fact that 14 years ago we were in California for four weeks in June, and my beloved had a year with two Fathers' Days. On that trip the kiddies were really kiddies (1,4,6) and I remember that after a few days of the brilliant Californian summer one of them asked if it would be Christmas soon. There is obviously something quite deep-seated which links our celebrations to the physical season. I realise Fathers' Day is like this for me - September 'feels like' Fathers' Day. Even though I have never been that attached to the custom, its observation is rooted deep in my experience.

In his notebook on Monday HM commented :

Yesterday was "Father's Day" in the US. Later this month will be the tenth anniversary of my Father's death. ...

I am not completely certain as to why, but in this last week going into two, my father has reappeared quite strongly in my daily consciousness...

And then I woke up yesterday morning, and I realized that it was father's day. I had not been paying attention, and really did not think--consciously anyway--of the day until its arrival. But the fact of the resurgence of my father in my recent consciousness being concurrent with the arrival of father's day was not lost on me....

I wonder if these occasions somehow affect us more when our parents are no longer with us. At that deeper level. For me this year Mothers' Day was less than two months after my mother's death. I spent a good day, with a walk along the Parramatta river to hold together the many different and juxtaposing facets that emerged. HM has caused me to think about how it might be in 10 years time. It will be interesting to map the journey over time. Prospectively for Mum and retrospectively for my Dad.

AND for me that Wikipedia list gives plenty of opportunity to manipulate my location so that I get to celebrate multiple Mother's Days in a single year.

Maybe :-)

Beach trip

Today's Friday Five over at an open table set for a diverse group of people -- women pursuing or discerning a Christian vocation -- and their friends -- is posed by Mother Laura who writes:

The Grimes-Honkanen bunch is settling in after a challenging move, and bubbling with gratitude for our new "cozy cottage by the beach": a tiny rented condo on Pacific Coast Highway.

We're five minutes on foot from Sunset Beach for my daily choppy-but-gorgeous swim or prayer walk, often with dolphin sightings. Ten minutes south by car is downtown Huntington with its pier and window shopping, and the same distance north is Seal Beach, much calmer for family swimming.

Nicholas is equipped with shorty wetsuit and boogie board, and game to learn mastering the local waves from Mom--though I need to get a big softy and learn to surf before he does to maintain my cool cred. But Katie is still learning to swim confidently in the pool, and Midwestern-raised Matt prefers something more like his beloved Great Lakes. "No waves, no salt?" "Yes, darling, and no worrisome wildlife." "Except for the water moccasins, dude." You get the idea...it's all a matter of taste.

So in honor of summer, please share your own beachy memories, plans, and dreams with a "Beach Trip" Friday Five.

1. Ocean rocks, lake limps? Vice versa? Or "it's all beautiful in its own way"?

The latter I think. I do adore the sea. The salt I think because I'm very happy in ocean or harbour. Last year I had only the statutory 10 days break over Christmas and New Year (I was planning a summer hol later in January) and on New Years Day it really felt too soon to be returning to work the next day. But an afternoon drive to Cronulla Beach and a dip in the surf dispelled that gloom and set me up with renewed energy for the return to the workplace. (The major return to work was the following week when I led this prayer in a central city congregation.) But I also love the lakes and rivers abundant with water yet so sadly dying in our troubled world. It seems hard to believe that water security is a major public health issue in our rich country.
2. Year round beach living: Heaven...or the Other Place?
Heaven no question. I just couldn't think of a better lifestyle although I must admit I have not managed it to date. This abode is the closest - 5 mins walk from the river which is tidal almost its entire length. Have just worked out (after 18 months) the ferry route to town which takes longer and costs more but links me directly to the harbour. A good way to nurture my spirit.

3. Any beach plans for this summer?
Need to get through winter first! But this is a good prompt to make the summer bookings. I would like to explore the South Coast.

4. Best beach memory ever?
There are so many. Childhood boat trips with Grandfather in his dinghy with an outboard, tramping (hiking) around Lake Waikareiti with friends and spending a week in a hut right on the beach at the far edge, the Abel Tasman walk with spectacular sea views every step of the way it seemed, building sandcastles with children, and a few years later swallowing my feminist sentiments and beaming as they paraded in the Little Miss Beach Girl competition. BUT you asked for the BEST MEMORY EVER. That would have to be buying fish and chips at Kawhia, driving down to the water, digging a large hole in the black iron sand until we reached the thermal springs - then sitting in our own heated pool eating fast food as the sun set over the horizon and the tide came in.

5. Fantasy beach trip?
See above but with addition of a chilled bottle of champagne to accompany.

Bonus: Share a piece of music/poetry/film/book that expresses something about what the beach means to you.
Well this is the one that came to mind. An oldie (although the hymn writer and composer were both born in the 20th century). And I loved hearing Eternal Father in The Perfect Storm. Funny that these are more sombre - not in a way what I would have expected to come to mind when considering the beach. My mind works in mysterious ways... and recognises that threat and opportunity co-exist maybe???

Interesting juxtapositions

Mothers' Day and Pentecost coincide this year. According to my friend Jenny this last happened in 1913 and will not happen again until the year 2228. It also happened in 1818 and will happen again in 2285 (when Easter was/will be even a day earlier than this year). So what a momentous occasion!!?? (one thing you will find about me is that I do love these kind of trivial facts and they will appear on my blog from time to time).

This super-early Easter season has brought other 'co-incidences' that are particularly relevant down-under. Ash Wednesday fell on Waitangi Day - the day when the people of Aotearoa New Zealand remember Te Tiriti or the Treaty signed between Maori and Queen Victoria in 1840. And less than a week later the Prime Minister of Australia, Kevin Rudd, made a formal apology to the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Peoples of this country for actions of the government that tore families apart and deeply wounded communities. The sorry speech was watched by millions nationwide, many workplaces made provision for employees to watch the broadcast, and this Kiwi living in Australia found it extremely moving to see the generous acceptance of the initiative by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander elders and especially by those most affected by past government intervention.

It seemed so appropriate in the season of Lent, when Christians intentionally focus on Jesus' journey to Jerusalem, that the two nations I identify with marked significant milestones in nationhood and in relationship with indigenous people. Colonisation causes such ongoing pain - and as part of the Anglo tradition I sometimes find it hard to know how to be part of the change that is necessary. I can rejoice though in these miniscule steps to repentance - turning around and challenging the often entrenched presumption of privilege. And I am engaged in developing a professional education activity which may help myself and colleagues to hone our skills in critiquing policy from an indigenous perspective.

And circling back to the start - Mothers' Day and Pentecost. The blog from Sally (on her journey) on exclusivism and Mothering Sunday has helped me enter this 'once-in-a-lifetime' liturgical/social coincidence with eyes open to see things differently. And there have been glimpses of that wonderful Spirit of Godde at work in my world. First at Mothers' Day Mass at my daughter's school. The music was excellent and the students' prayers and reflections demonstrated an inclusive valuing of women in their lives, mothers, and aunties, teachers, grandmothers and sisters and friends. Then in our Uniting Church this morning the liturgist prayed for all who struggle with parenthood, for those for whom this day is painful, and for families missing a loved mother or grandmother.

For me this is the first year without a mother to telephone and it has been a day of juxtapositions. Delighting in the attention from my three wonderful children - all living at home at the moment - and in breakfast out with my husband early in the day. Yet missing my own Mum who died on March 17. Then phoning my sister who is enjoying her first Mothers' Day as a grandmother, and hearing what a special day my niece is having with her precious seven-week-old son. Walking along the Parramatta foreshore gave an opportunity to somehow hold all these experiences and feelings and thoughts together and to treasure them deep within my heart.

Indeed - a day and a season of juxtapositions.