Journeys

Its Christmas morning and Esther is at Melbourne Airport reflecting on her group Christian Backpackers Meetup Melbourne. 

The tagline for Christian Backpackers  is ‘We’re all on a journey’. As well as pointing out the common ground for travellers, the more artistic of us might realise its metaphorical reference to other journeys. Our personal journeys. Our spiritual journeys. Everyone’s trying to get somewhere right?

But the path is oft not easy. The way is winding, confusing, uneven. They say God is love, but he sure seems distant sometimes. 

And so this is Christmas. Mary, Joseph and their little donkey, little donkey made the trek to O little town of Bethlehem. Shepherds left their flocks by night to confirm the great news and bundle of joy. Them three kings from orientar*, bearing gifts, travelled afar. And then there me: 6am at the airport, already tired from the trip home and there’s still 2 hours til take off.

We think of Jesus as the Holy Infant, so tender and mild. We think the travels centred around him, but in fact, he was a weary traveller too.  How long is the trip from eternity to earth? And how long is the road to calvary with a cross?

We struggle our way to him, but he’s already come down to us.
He places heaven on the horizon and walks with his hand in ours.

We’re all on a journey –
O traveller, walk with him.

*come on, didn’t you think it was one word when you sang this growing up?

All I want for Christmas

My Christmas wish
my prayer, even
is that in this sweet
yet struggling world
after a year of success and surprise
alongside volcanoes, bush fires, anti-government protests, mosque shootings and more -
God would once again meet us where we are.

That he would invade hearts and lives
- quietly, powerfully -
like he did that first Christmas.

I am reminded that he did not provide a quick fix back then
(we know better than to believe in those)
thus its unlikely he will do so now.

But that the ray of hope,
the comfort that flowed 
as his feet his the earth
was, and is,
all we need.

~~

How silently, how silently

the wondrous gift is given. 

So God imparts to human hearts 

the blessings of his heaven 

No ear may hear his coming 

but in this world of sin 

where meek souls will receive him 

still the dear Christ enters in. 

                                                                                             ~O little town of Bethlehem
                                                                                                                                                                      P Brooks, 1868

Discrepancies

The 1 December, the first day of summer. To mark the occasion, Melbourne put on a top of 16 deg and a relentless downpour. The next day, as a consolation prize, there was a high of 15 deg and a hailstorm. One could be forgiven for thinking there had been a serious mistake.

As I longed for mulled wine in my merino jersey, I mulled over similar discrepancies:

When the letters after your name say you’re a qualified surgeon, yet you don’t feel qualified to slice the pizza you’ll binge on tonight.

When you're head hunted and got that promotion - and still feel like unworthy to be a janitor in the building.

When he says you’re beautiful and proved it with a ring, yet you can’t brush your teeth in front of the mirror.

When you read 'Jesus died for the sins of the world' in your Bible and sing 'red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight' with your kids, yet can't help thinking you're his one exception.

Winter weather, when the calendar says summer.
The facts - and the feelings that suggest otherwise.
How do you dress for the discrepancies?

No one's suggesting you head out in a bikini. The storm is real.
Nevertheless head out; dress warm, head up.
Weather the weather and know deep down inside
it is
     indeed
          Summer

And that’s what its all about

If I were a fly in the sky I might look down from on high
and think that soccer was all about a ball.
For they chase that sphere
over here, over there
Seems so important even though its so small

If I were a bird up above watching from a power pole
I’d say soccer was about scoring goals.
For when the ball they try and get
goes into the net, they cheer -
realised fears and hopes.

If you were a spectator at our match
you’d be excused if you’re confused
and thought our games are all about food.
For our half-time feasts are enough, to say the least,
to fuel more than a few athletes.

But you know Mr Fly,
a ball is just a ball. Full of air and nothing more.
Its not the aim of our game

And, Dear Bird,
Goals in soccer (and indeed in life)
aren’t always measured by posts painted white.

But a feast – oh yes a feast
is close to what soccer means
Though it’s not because we just like to eat.

As we huddle around oranges and lollies
(and sandwiches/strawberries/muesli/baking/carrot sticks/salami...)
we rest, we’re fuelled
we hear wisdom, gain strength
to continue.

So soccer is a game
but for us its much more.
In many ways its a feast
for our souls 

Fig 1: One of the more modest half-time spreads of the Maribyrnong Swifts State 4 team

Small things

Lately, there's a Bible verse I've been bumping into. In the book of Zechariah, the temple in Jerusalem was being rebuilt. Amongst some interesting imagery, God tells the prophet not to despise the day of small things*.

Now, I'm no prophet, but I stopped to reflect:

- My dad made me my first violin out of a Kodak box and a chopstick

- When I started running, I lasted 10 minutes
- Halfway into my first soccer match, my team decided I seemed fit. They shouted for me to go striker. I had one question as I ran in the direction they pointed: 'Whats a striker??' 

- I came out of my first cat-handling practical bleeding and crying

- In my first gym class I could only lift the bar with no weights

- The first Christian Backpackers' event I organised, two people showed up. I showed up late, on crutches (refused to take a fractured ankle as a sign)

I've still got plenty small stuff on the go. But now: 

- My violin actually makes a sound (sometimes of questionable quality)

- I can run much, much further 

- I'm no striker, but am somewhat more soccer savy 

- I give cats tablets and take away their testicles
- I can lift bars WITH weights

- Christian backpackers is a growing community 

Don't get me wrong. This post - and that verse - is not about how you can achieve your goals with a bit of effort and positive thinking. Enough of that on the internet already. Besides, some things stay small (eg I've given up waiting for my growth spurt). Others go up and down in sin wave fashion.

But its to suggest that: if God is alongside you - carrying you, even - then on that day
   size
         doesn't
               matter 

*For whoever has despised the day of small things shall rejoice Zech 4:10