Amanda: Homosexuality

Amanda unpacks all the references to homosexuality in the bible and what that seems to point to. All this is held in tension with her own convictions and journey. Handled really sensitively and a good indication of where the pastoral team have landed on this as we wrestled with it as a community.

please note: Amanda had nothing to do with the above photo and will probably hurt me for it.

Ben Wilson: Trust Issues

I'm quite indifferent to the idea of marriage. For a guy with high testosterone levels, some might see that as an issue. I'm really not sure though. The past few years have brought to my attention that I kind of don't want a wife - but I do...but again I don't. I could go on perilous adventures with my loyal steed, questing every land with amazing presentation, unattainable to all and bound by no woman. That's what appeals to me.

Why so much freedom? Why the crazy dreams of liberty? I can't even ride a horse. 

Because I've been in the polar-opposite situation. I've been in a cage as the result of another person. I'm afraid to get a girlfriend - 'cause I have trust issues with women.

Specifically women my age. Ones I could potentially go out with. Many people can't handle the loneliness of being alone - that's the least of my worries. What I can't handle is the drama of a relationship. I can't deal with the other person's outbursts, the silent wars that happen between conversations, the uncertainty of what they're thinking - the possibility it might be something hurtful.

When I meet a girl I remotely like, my reflexes take over. Will she try to manipulate me? Will she pull strings to get her own way? Will she always want to be right? Will she drag me along? Will she screw me over with some kind of irrational, emotional outburst? It's possible these may happen, so I deem the pursuit too risky. If there's even the slightest chance - nothing's worth that again.

I'm acutely aware not all women are the same, but it's not that easy. It's a learned behaviour, a natural reaction, a defence mechanism. It takes a great deal of willpower for me to become close to a woman. Most of the time it's easier not to, so I don't bother. My preconceptions are projected onto someone based on my experiences, what I know of women - and what I've known is not something I want to spend the rest of my life with.

At times I do want a relationship, but I'm never sure if I should be taking these trust issues with me, or deal with them first. Of course this is assuming I don't decide to stay single. Grace, patience and blessings to the woman who decides to go after me...

This goes both ways. No doubt there are women in our community who have been hurt by men. Women who were hurt because a man did something careless. I'm not always the best ambassador for the male species. Maybe I've wounded a few girls because of my austerity.

It'd probably be simpler to keep going the way I have. To continue believing every girl 'round the corner is a unsuspecting saboteur - but I know they deserve more than my suspicions.

So how do my assumptions change? By way of many women, unaware and oblivious to their actions, but little do they know they're breaking down my preconceptions.

They're what I call 'beautiful'.

Andrew Hill: Divorce

God continues to work through some of the gunk in our community as we look at aspects of relationships that have hurt us. Last Sunday was no different as Andrew Hill was back to talk about his own story as a child of divorced parents, God's relationship with Israel and hope in the fact that God wants us back. Well worth a listen. Thanks Andrew!

Singleness and Funny Times

Gotta love community sometimes.

The best nights we have at church are the nights when we get to laugh together, to make fun of ourselves and enjoy each other's company. This has always been the way for our Young Adults group, and as you can hear from this recording, this was us back in form. Afterwards we all headed down to a pub down the road and hung out longer than usual.

I think that's what I love most about church, and why I will look back on Sunday with fondness. Sure, we talked about some important stuff, but the way we did it was the coolest bit.

Love this group. IN A BIG WAY.

Ben Wilson: Pride

I love this church, but there are issues I wish it dealt with better. We talk about nurturing the beaten, the hopeless and the weak. We never give thought to those on the other side. What about those who are just plain awesome - too awesome for their own good? You think life's easy for us too.

Imagine how we feel. We burst at the seams with intellect but we cry ourselves to sleep because most cannot even comprehend our thoughts. We're despised for the good looks we were born with - segregated from the commoners and left to fend alone. We're idealised and placed on pulpits, but when we recognise ourselves we're told it's 'narcissism'. We sacrifice parties and get-togethers in the pursuit of perfect aesthetics so you people have something to look at. Being an adonis is hard...

Lols.

Pride is one of those things people can tell I struggle with, but probably wouldn't tell to my face. According to Catholicism and the 'seven deadly sins,' it's the one vice where all others originate. Needless to say I wouldn't have made a very good Catholic (though apparently I was meant to be). You don't see many people eager to share about their pride, probably 'cause it sounds a bit like, 'I'm a cocky bastard who thinks he's better than you'. Maybe it's time we gave this some limelight. Maybe it's time we blow our trumpets a little and confess our theatrics.

Well, I’m a cocky bastard - and I probably thought I was better than you.

My endeavours on the U.S.S Jackass began at the end of high school. I had been working-out for two years. The double Ds on the chest were developing nicely and I realised something - I was quite good-looking. It came with a feeling of power, confidence and security - and I liked it. I'd strut down public places wearing one of many small-sized shirts feeling like a king. No one was gonna take this away from me, I could call on it any time and it seemed to be magnetizing people.

I enjoyed my childhood. I was well-loved, had many friends and had a lot of things going for me. I always felt clumsy however. Somehow I got the idea in my head that I didn't know anything, or couldn't do anything properly. Much of the time I felt a spectator to life than an active participant. It was a mental block that stopped me from initiating, from trying and being generally productive. I felt like things always had to be done for me.

With a myriad of insecurities, pride gave me power. It numbed many of the feelings I had conjured and gave me a reason to lift my head. People started to notice. My friends started calling me, 'Ben Wilson', like I was a famous person who'd achieved some Hollywood milestone. I saw no reason to give it up, I saw no reason to stop. I wasn't hurting anyone.

You start feeling sorry for people. Sorry because they don't have the aura of limitless achievement. Sorry because they hold their heads to the ground. Sorry as if they'd be lesser for it.

After a few humbling experiences, I began to realise the foolishness of my hubris. What reasons did I have for thinking I was better? None. There weren't any. It was a front. I was trying to make myself feel good. We all try to make ourselves happy - this was my way. There no was legitimate logic behind it.

In retrospect, I suppose I was trying to avoid measuring myself against people. If I was always better I wouldn't be tempted to compare myself and therefore couldn't be disappointed - and I wouldn't have to feel like that little boy who didn't know what he was doing.

Nowadays my pride remains mostly in remnants. It lives on in cute quips made for the greater good of comedy. I still make overtly arrogant comments as a throwback to yesteryear - like a strange in-joke with myself. I'm know where I'm from. I can smile and poke fun at it. I can look back on Pride Rock and laugh at myself.

I don't need to compare anymore. I'm given worth by a maximally-great being who juggles stars and reads the laws of physics like a children's book. If that Person sees me as I am and finds it to be valuable - there's no need to look further.

I have qualities you don't have, and you have qualities I don't have. We're entirely different beasts. I'll help you where I'm strong and you do likewise. You have every reason to love yourself, and love me.

I believe I'm intelligent. I believe I'm capable. I believe I look great. I believe any woman would be lucky to have me. I believe I'm lovable.

But that doesn't make me better than you.

Phillippians 4 - Amanda

Amanda at her best. Get into it!

the cross.

Take the word ‘focus’. Say it 20 times. Now say it 20 more times. Listen to yourself saying it. Most of us at this point will have become weirded out by the word. It becomes simple a small collection of syllables and vowels, a meaningless sound because of its relentless bombardment. We can’t even use the word. For a little while we are confused by it. All meaning has been sucked out.

In our church café we have a whole wall dedicated to the display of crosses. Some are bare and simple, some are floral, others are almost comedic in nature. It seems appropriate that the symbol we Christians are defined by takes such a prominent place in our worlds. We want to give it attention because it is so central to the story we endorse. But the frequency in which we use it in church life can sometimes have a detrimental effect. We can become desensitised to it. In the same way that we have become used to graphic violence in media without even giving it a second thought, the cross is basically lost to us. It simply represents a cold transaction of sin or something. A religious icon divorced from reality.

One of the most telling experiences I ever had was as a student teacher in a local primary school. One Thursday morning an enthusiastic young woman from a nearby church came to give the class I was in a Bible in Schools lesson. The class was made up of 6 year olds and most of them knew very little of the Bible or Christianity.  This young woman proceeded to tell this group of young children the crucifixion story. Of Jesus being nailed to a cross by his hands and feet. The listeners were wide eyed and one scared child had to leave the room in tears. What this young woman had failed to realise was that the crucifixion story is not a child friendly account of history. It isn’t even really PG. It is brutal and horrific.

To put it bluntly, we have domesticated the cross. We have turned it into a get out of jail free card in our evangelistic methods or a piece of poetry unique to our belief system. We have turned it into a “Jesus thinks you are to die for” bumper sticker without actually giving too much thought to what the experience would have actually entailed. Sometimes non-Christians recognise the barbarity of it more than Christians do, due the fact we’re so used to talking about it.

But the cross. It possesses profane horror and godlessness.

Jesus died as a rejected blasphemer.

Crucifixion was the most degrading form of punishment.

It is totally inappropriate for God to go through something like this. It is bad taste.

It is a total scandal.

It is in conflict with anything humane and rational.

Jesus endured nakedness, powerlessness and senselessness and alienation to all.

God experienced God forsakenness.

On this cross we behold a crucified and defeated God.

For God so loved the world.

Domesticate that.